"Well, mine host, what have you?"
"What have I? Everything. I have rye bread, sauerkraut, 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 travelers started up, declaring they had eaten enough.
"I 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?"