Desfoso is carrying on a heated conversation in whispers with the fishermen.

Khorre steps forward and speaks, glancing at Haggart askance: "I had a little talk with them, Noni--they are all right, they are good fellows, Noni.

Only the priest--but he is a good man, too--am I right, Noni?
Don't look so crossly at me, or I'll mix up the whole thing! You see, kind people, it's this way: this man, Haggart, and I have saved up a little sum of money, a little barrel of gold.

We don't need it, Noni, do we?
Perhaps you will take it for yourselves?
What do you think?
Shall we give them the gold, Noni?
You see, here I've entangled myself already." He winks slyly at Mariet, who has now lifted her head.
"What are you prating there, you scarecrow ?" asks the abbot.
Khorre continues: "Here it goes, Noni; I am straightening it out little by little! But where have we buried it, the barrel?
Do you remember, Noni?
I have forgotten.

They say it's from the gin, kind people; they say that one's memory fails from too much gin.