Martin, meanwhile, having been thoroughly aroused, got up and went towards the fire.
“You’re bright and early, Mainmast,” he said, slowly filling his pipe.
“Yes, hog takes time to cook.”
“Hog is it, eh? That’ll be first-rate. Got sauce for it?”
“Hog needs no sauce,” said Mrs Christian, with a laugh. To say truth, it required very little to arouse her merriment, or that of her amiable sisterhood.
When Martin had lighted his pipe, he stood gazing at the fire profoundly, as if absorbed in meditation. Presently he seized a frying-pan which lay on the ground, and descended therewith by way of the steep cliffs to the sea.
While he was gone, one and another of the party came to the fire and began to chat or smoke, or both, according to fancy. Ere long Martin was seen slowly ascending the cliffs, holding the frying-pan with great care.
“What have you got there?” asked one.
“Oysters, eh?” said another, scrutinising the pan.
“More like jelly-fish,” said Young.