“Eh?” cried Fitz, looking puzzled. “How came I—your cabin—your cabin? Is it your cabin?”
The lad nodded.
“I don’t know,” said Fitz. “How did I come here?”
“But it is my cabin—rather.”
“Yes, yes; but how did I come here?”
“Why, in the boat.”
“In a boat?” said Fitz thoughtfully—“in a boat? I came in a boat? Yes, I suppose so, because we are at sea. But somehow I don’t know how it is. I can’t recollect. But I say, hasn’t it turned very warm?”
“Yes. Getting warmer every day.”
“But my head—I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you? Well, never mind. How do you feel?”