"Marta," the farmer said, "this man was ship-wrecked and is to be our guest for as long as he wants to stay. He is...?"
"Ramsay Cartou," Ramsay supplied.
"Yaah! Ramsay Cartou. I am Pieter Van Hooven and this is my wife, Marta."
Ramsay made himself comfortable in the neat kitchen while Marta Van Hooven hurried efficiently about, preparing a meal. There was baked whitefish, venison, roasted goose, fluffy mashed potatoes, crisp salad, billowy fresh rolls, delicious cheese and milk.
Ramsay ate until he could eat no more, then pushed himself away from the table and smiled graciously at Marta Van Hooven. "That was good!" he said feelingly.
"You ate so little."
Ramsay grinned, "Not more than enough to feed three good-sized horses. You can really cook."
Pieter Van Hooven glowed at this compliment extended to his wife. He filled and lighted a clay pipe, and puffed contentedly. "What are you going to do now?" he asked Ramsay.
"I," Ramsay hesitated, "I'd like to pay for the meal."
Pieter Van Hooven smiled. "Forget that. You were our guest."