It was Ned’s turn to keep watch from the observatory, as they termed a little shelter, roughly-made on the top terrace; but Chris would have taken his place had not his father interposed.
“But it seems so hard for him to go up there while we’re having a good meal down here,” said Chris wistfully.
“He shall be looked after,” said the doctor, “and I don’t want you to do much climbing about yet. You must rest.”
Chris was silent, and took an opportunity to have a word or two with Ned before he started to climb up the narrow ways.
“That was very good of you, old chap,” whispered Ned, gripping his comrade by the left arm, with the result that Chris groaned and ground his teeth.
“Oh, you brute!” he said sharply.
“Chris!—I am sorry.”
“What’s the good of being sorry? That’s the sorest place I’ve got.”
“I didn’t know, old chap.”
“I did; and I do now,” replied Chris, rubbing the spot softly. “Never mind.”