"Look alive, Henrik!" cried Max to Hartvig junior, who was nearer
at hand; "why don't you help your sister?"

Miss Frederica extricated herself without help, and the party
proceeded.

The table was laid in the garden, along the wall of the house; and
although the spring was so young, it was warm enough in the
sunshine. When they had all found seats, Mrs. Hartvig cast a
searching glance over the table.

"Why--why--surely there's something wanting! I'm convinced I saw
the house-keeper wrapping up a black grouse this morning.
Frederica, my dear, don't you remember it?"

"Excuse me, mother, you know that housekeeping is not at all in my
department."

Rebecca looked at her father, and so did Lintzow; the worthy Pastor
pulled a face upon which even Ansgarius could read a confession of
crime.

"I can't possibly believe," began Mrs. Hartvig, "that you, Pastor,
have been conspiring with--" And then he could not help laughing
and making a clean breast of it, amid great merriment, while the
boys in triumph produced the parcel with the game. Every one was in
the best possible humor. Consul Hartvig was delighted to find that
their clerical host could join in a joke, and the Pastor himself
was in higher spirits than he had been in for many a year.