174 Hans Brinker

“© Caviare! That is made of gold! Who has caviare to
sell?”

Peter had sometimes eaten it at home. He knew that it
was made of the roes of the sturgeon and certain other large
fish; but he had no idea of its cost.

“ Well, mine host, what have you?”

“ What have I? Everything. I have rye-bread, sour-krout,
potato-salad, and the fattest herring in Leyden.”

“What do you say, boys?” asked the captain. “ Will
that do?”

“ Yes,” cried the famished youths, “if he ’ll only be quick.”

Mynheer moved off like one walking in his sleep, but soon
opened his eyes wide at the miraculous manner in which his
herring were made to disappear. Next came, or rather went,
potato-salad, rye-bread and coffee, then Utrecht water flavored
with orange, and, finally, slices of dry gingerbread. This last
delicacy was not on the regular bill of fare; but Mynheer
Kleef, driven to extremes, solemnly produced it from his own
private stores, and gave only a placid blink when his voracious
young travellers started up, declaring they had eaten enough.

“J should think so!” he exclaimed internally ; but his
smooth face gave no sign.

Softly rubbing his hands, he asked, —

«Will your worships have beds?”

“ Will your worships have beds!” mocked Carl. “ What
do you mean? Do we look sleepy ?”

“ Not at all, master. But I would cause them to be warmed
and aired. None sleep under damp sheets at the Red Lion.”

“ Ah, I understand. Shall we come back here to sleep,
captain?”

Peter was accustomed to finer lodgings; but this was a frolic.