"Oh, Squarky-woo," she cried, "oh, you little fool!" and great tears of misery almost blinded her. Squarky-woo crushed back his sobs when he saw his mother weeping. "Don't cry, Mammy-ana," he said, "I am not worth it. I am only a wicked, ungrateful little beast, and I don't mind dying." Then Mammy-ana broke down helplessly and sobbed out that he was all she had in the world, and that it was all her own fault for not having told him what a trap was like, and that Heaven knew she had done it all for the best. A sad, twisted little smile flickered across Squarky-woo's face, but he only shook his head and repeated bravely: "No, mother, it was all my fault." "Oh," she cried, "I might have known what would happen. Your father's blood was bound to come out." Squarky-woo's eyes lit up with a great pride. "Yes," he said, "it has taught me how to make a fool of myself, but it will also teach me how to die." "Listen," cried Mammy-ana suddenly. "There is one faint chance. If the cat is not present when you are discovered, they will try to drown you. Just as they are going to open the trap I will attract their attention, and if by any chance they open it a second too soon--jump, darling, jump, for your life and mine." A glimmer of hope stole into Squarky-woo's eyes, and he set his little teeth with a grim determination that was good to witness. Mammy-ana wiped away her tears, and kissed him through the wires. And when the cold, grey light of morning crept through the chinks in the shuttered windows, she was still beside him, softly encouraging him with words of hope, and firmly resolved that if she failed to save him it should be at the price of her own existence. At last a heavy step outside warned them of approaching danger, and Mammy-ana scuttled away and took up her position under the dresser. The terrible and immediate necessity for caution kept her cool and alert, though every nerve was tingling with savage determination. Then the door opened, and a great, sleepy scullery-maid blundered into the room. Directly she saw Squarky-woo in the trap she gave a scream of terror, and darted to the door. "Cook, cook," she called. "Come 'ere." Mammy-ana heard the door of the cook's room open, and the angry answer that came across the passage: "Well, what are yer screechin' about, silly?" "There's a mouse in the trap." "Well, it won't eat yer." There was a sound of flopping footsteps, and the cook waddled in, looking anything but pleasant. "Never 'eard such a noise," she remarked angrily. "Ain't yer ever seen a mouse before, fat'ead?" She advanced towards the fireplace, and glanced down at Squarky-woo. "Where's that blessed cat?" she inquired. "Dunno," said the scullery-maid. "What's the good of you?" demanded the cook scornfully. Being apparently unable to find any satisfactory solution to this problem, the scullery-maid only glanced nervously at Squarky-woo and murmured, "Pore little thing."