Under different circumstances the boys would have been happy enough. But do what he would, Robert could not get warm, while the sight of food only sickened him. But for Jack's persistent efforts to make him take it, he would not have drunk his tea. At last, however, a cup of the steaming beverage was swallowed, and then, for the first time since he had returned to consciousness, he felt a warm glow steal over him. But it was not a pleasant warmth, and presently the heat became more painful than the previous shivering fits; a violent headache also came on, and he could hardly speak for the acute throb that beat in his temples.
Jack, finding it was the kindest thing to do, forebore at last to chat and laugh in the hope of "cheering him up," and having taken down the tea-tray, brought back a pile of school books, and sat quietly down by the bed to do his preparation. He was glad to see that Robert was asleep. But at intervals, he moaned and muttered, and Jack did little study because he was constantly pulling up the blankets that Robert's restless movements tossed from his body, leaving his arms and chest exposed to the air. Presently, however, there came a longer silence than usual, and, turning, Jack saw that Robert was awake.
"Is that you, Jack?" he asked.
"Yes, of course. Who else should it be?"
"I'm not at home, am I?"
"No, you're at my house and in my bed. Don't you remember that the ice broke, and you fell in the water, and came here to get your clothes dried?"
For a moment Robert looked puzzled. Then Jack saw that he remembered everything.
"What's the time?" he asked.
"It's just gone eight."
Robert hastily rose on his elbow, but immediately fell back again with a groan.