"Your gracious majesty is served!"-- screeching out the words so distinctly that, though he was on the opposite side of the valley, the portentous announcement sounded to Fritz as if it had been bellowed in his ears.
"I'm coming," he answered; and, with no lagging footsteps, he quickly hastened towards the left cliff, where in front of the hut he could see Master Eric had made the most elaborate preparations in his power for the promised feast.

The lad had even gone so far as to spread the piece of tarpaulin which the skipper had given them, on the ground in lieu of a tablecloth! Everything looked charming.
Eric had arranged some plates and a couple of dishes round the tarpaulin with great artistic effect, and a carving knife and fork before the place where he motioned Fritz to seat himself.

The lad's own position, as host, was in front of a large mess tin which was covered with a cloth.

A most agreeable odour filled the air, albeit the faint smell as of burnt meat somewhat struck Fritz as Eric proceeded to take off the covering cloth with a flourish.
"Well, Monsieur Cuisinier, what is the bill of fare ?" asked the elder brother with a gratified smile, the unaccustomed smell of a hot dinner almost making his mouth water before he knew what he was going to have.
"Roast beef to begin with," announced Master Eric pompously.
"Himmel!" exclaimed Fritz, "roast beef! How have you managed to provide that ?" His heart sank within him as he asked the almost unnecessary question; for, quickly came the answer he feared.
"Oh," said Eric in an off-hand way, "I opened the cask Captain Brown gave us and roasted a piece over the fire." "But, that was salt meat!" ejaculated Fritz in consternation.
"Well, what matter ?" rejoined Eric; "I suppose it was as good to roast as any other.

Besides, we didn't have any fresh." Fritz heaved a sigh of despair.
"Let us try it, anyhow," he said in a melancholy tone, and Eric having, carved off with extreme difficulty a knob--it could be called nothing else--of the black mass in the mess tin he had before him, handed the plate containing it over to Fritz, who, sawing off a fragment, endeavoured to chew it unsuccessfully and then had finally to eject it from his mouth.
"Good heavens, Eric!" he exclaimed, "it's as hard as a brickbat, as salt as brine, and burnt up as thoroughly as a piece of coke.