Whereupon Dave suddenly disappeared under the table, and all the others stared in wonder at Fly. "Firefly, do you know anything?" "I expect Scorpion is in his grave. Where is the use of making such a fuss?" responded Fly. And she made a precipitate retreat out of the window. All the remainder of that day was occupied in a vain search for the missing animal. Mrs. Cameron strongly suspected Firefly, but the only remark the little girl could be got to make was: "I am sure Scorpion is in his grave." Mrs. Cameron said that was no answer, and further insisted that the child should be severely punished. But as in reply to that, Helen said firmly that as long as father was in the house no one should punish the children but him, she felt, for the present, at least, obliged to hold her sense of revenge in check. After Fly had gone to bed that night, David crept into her room. "I've done it all now," he said. "I sold Scorpion to-night for a shilling to a man who was walking across the moor, and I have just popped the shilling into Mrs. Cameron's purse. The horrid little brute worked quite a big hole in the bottom of the grave, Fly, and he nearly snapped my fingers off when I lifted him out to give him to Jones. But he's away now, that's a comfort. What a silly thing you were, Fly, to burst out laughing at breakfast, and then say that Scorpion was in his grave." "But it was so true, David. That hole looked exactly like a grave." "But you have drawn suspicion upon you. Now, Mrs. Cameron certainly doesn't suspect me. See what she has given me: this beautiful new two-shilling piece. She said I was a very kind boy, and had done my best to find her treasure for her." "Oh, Dave, how could you take it!" "Couldn't I, just! I'm not a little muff, like you. I intend to buy a set of wickets with this. Well, good-night, Fly; nobody need fear hydrophobia after this good day's work." CHAPTER XV. A DILEMMA. A night's sleep had by no means improved Mrs. Cameron's temper. She came downstairs the next morning so snappish and disagreeable, so much inclined to find fault with everybody, and so little disposed to see the faintest gleam of light in any direction, that the children almost regretted Scorpion's absence, and began to wonder if, after all, he was not a sort of safety-valve for Mrs. Cameron, and more or less essential to her existence. Hitherto this good woman had not seen her brother-in-law; and it was both Helen's and Polly's constant aim to keep her from the sick room. It was several days now since the Doctor was pronounced quite out of danger; but the affection of his eyes which had caused his children so many anxious fears, had become much worse. As the London oculist had told him, any shock or chill would do this; and there was now no doubt whatever that for a time, at least, he would have to live in a state of total darkness.