k and the tinned oysters--"

"That mixture would be almost enough to settle one!" said Fritz,
interrupting him. "Anything else?"

"Oh, yes. As there were only a few potatoes left from those we used for
planting in the garden I put them in; and, as I had no other vegetables,
I also shook in some preserved peaches, and--"

"There, that will do," shouted Fritz, quite put out at having his
expected dinner treat spoilt in such a fashion,--"salt pork, pickled
oysters, and preserved peaches,--good heavens! The stew only wanted
some cheese to be added to make it perfect."

"I did put some in," said Eric innocently.

This naive acknowledgment quite restored Fritz's good humour, and he
burst out laughing; his anger and disgust dispelled at once by the
comical confession.

"If ever I let you cook for me again," he observed presently when he was
able to speak again, "I'll--yes, I will eat a stewed penguin, there!"

Eric laughed, too, at this; although he remarked, wisely enough,
"Perhaps you might have to eat worse than that, old fellow!"

"I don't know what could be," said Fritz.

"Nothing!" curtly replied Eric, the truism silencing his brother for the
moment and setting him thinking; but he presently spoke again to the
point at issue.

"Is there nothing left for us to eat?" he asked. "I'm famishing."

"There's the cheese and some raw ham if you can manage with those," said
Eric sadly, quite disheartened at the failure of all his grand
preparations for giving his brother a treat.

"Capitally," replied Fritz, "fetch them out, and let us make a good
square meal. We can have some coffee afterwards. Next time, laddie,"
he added to cheer up Eric, "I dare say you'll do better."

The lad was somewhat relieved at his brother taking the matter so good-
humouredly, and quickly brought out the cheese and ham, which with some
biscuits served them very well in place of the rejected viands; and,
soon, the two were chatting away together again in their old
affectionate way as if no misunderstanding had come between them,
talking of home and old familiar scenes and recollections of Lubeck.

While they were yet sitting in front of the hut, over their coffee, the
setting sun cast the shadow of the cliff right before their feet; and,
at the very edge of the craggy outline, they perceived the shadow of
something else which was in motion.

This somewhat aroused their attention and made them look up towards the
heights above the