During the short time that Sally was left to herself it might not have been quite a matter of the imagination to fancy that she raised her eyelids cautiously and cunningly, and looked timidly about her. But the cellar was in darkness, and when Seth Dumbrick returned with the baby, Sally lay with closed eyes, and with apparently as little life in her as a stone.

The cellar, as has been said, was in darkness, and only to one accustomed to the gloom could the objects it contained be seen. But Seth had lived in the place for years, and from long custom his sight had accustomed itself to the shadows by which he loved--for he was by no means an unhappy man--to be surrounded. As Sally lay before him, he could see her face distinctly.

"I'd best bathe her head with water," he muttered; "it'll liven her up."

Taking a cup, he dipped it into what looked like a large glass tank, and withdrew it full of water. As he raised it from the surface, a stickleback leapt from the cup, and fell, with a little plash, into the tank. Seth, peering into the cup, inserted his fingers, and lifted out two water-beetles, which he deposited in the tank. Then he knelt by Sally, and laved her face.

Seth Dumbrick was a bachelor, fifty years of age, with no ties of kindred, and desiring none as it seemed, but not entirely without companionship. He was the possessor of an aquarium, constructed by himself, having in its centre a device in rocks, and with weeds, lilies, and what water-plants were in season, floating on the surface through the whole of the year. In the aquarium was a strange collection of fish and reptiles, comprising gold and silver fish, sticklebacks, silver pike, water worms and beetles, and as many varieties as Seth could gather and purchase of the fantastic Salamander. Of a certain species of this family of Salamandrid?, with large lustrous yellow spots and stripes which Seth claimed to come from Japan, and which he called his water-leopards, Seth was particularly proud. The rocks in the centre of the aquarium came sheer out of the water to suit the habit of those of his creatures amphibiously inclined, and it was from this aquarium he drew the water to restore Sally to consciousness.

But Sally's attack was one of the most obstinate nature, and she showed no signs of recovery. The more Seth bathed her face and head the more insensible she appeared to become, and Seth, not being accustomed to such "tantrums," as he called them, was doubtful, after a great exercise of patience, whether he was adopting the proper means for the recovery of the patient. And in a little while he was sensible of a creeping fear that Sally had taken her departure from this world of trouble to one where trouble was not known. "But that can't be," he murmured, as he placed his ear to her bosom, "for her heart's beating　Whether I look with a good or an evil eye upon men.."

and very violently for a child in Sally's weak condition. Seth doubted whether it was natural that the hearts of persons who were in the habit of falling into trances should beat so loudly as Sally's heart was beating now, and while he was considering the knotty point in silent perplexity, Sally's eyelids were cautiously raised, and she strove to pierce the darkness which surrounded her. She saw nothing, not even the eyes of Seth Dumbrick, which were fixed upon hers, in close observance.