"Now vat I vas going to do?" he groaned. "Dere don'd vas a Modor Matt any more, und dere iss der Red Flier, pack along der roadt, und Verral, und sooch a mess as I can't dell at der La Fita Blace. Ach, himmelblitzen!"
Carl, overcome by the dark outlook, sank down on the rocks and covered his face with his hands.
Near him the face of the cliff was covered with a growth of bushes and trailing vines.
Suddenly Carl heard a voice that lifted him to his feet as though a spring had been released under him.
It was his name! Somebody had called his name, and it sounded like Matt's voice.
"Vot it iss?" demanded Carl, a spasm of hope running through him.
"Come here!"
Carl looked all around, but without seeing where he was to go.
"Iss dot you, Matt?" he asked.
"Sure."