The boys edged into chairs at the table, but missed a round of muffins through staring at the "doctor."
The merchant masquerade was wholly outclassed by this new display of the make-up art.
Billy wanted to say "ring the night bell," but sheer admiration kept him silent.
Whether it was the combined effects of the steaming coffee, hot muffins, and a big black cigar that followed, or the silent tribute in the eyes of his young guests, it was, nevertheless, a speedily noted fact that Roque was thawing into more gracious manner.
"I suppose you know that it is only a few hours now until Christmas, and we must find some special way to observe it."
Billy and Henri could not get the straight line on Roque's remark, but later realized that the holiday was of the like they had never before passed.
With a cutting wind from off the icy flow of the mighty river Elbe in their faces, the boys followed their leader to the docks, where they boarded a small craft, evidently built for speed, which had steam up and manned for instant start.
The captain was the same who commanded the deck when the boys had accompanied Roque on a previous exciting excursion. This official, standing at attention, stiff as a ramrod, gave no visible mark of recognition as the passengers boarded the boat, but Billy could have sworn that he saw something like a twinkle in the captain's right eye when they passed the gangplank.
"No use asking where we are bound for," lamented Henri.
"Not a bit of use," agreed Billy.