Bertie holds the big pin close to the quivering body of the poor butterfly. He must find the exact spot in the middle of his back, so that the operation may not fail. He has told Minnie to put her hands flat down on the net, one on each side of the poor prisoner. The butterfly, thus pressed, can scarcely stir; a few convulsive struggles are the only signs of his agony and his helplessness; his head, with its large eyes, can still move a little. How dreadful his eyes look; they are full of terror.

Bertie was so proud of his victory; why does he hesitate now?