self
alone and unobserved, had _taken it off_! To say that Joe Harris's eyes
sparkled at this proof of her suspicions, would be quite
insufficient--they flashed, danced and radiated with delight, in such a
manner as made it very fortunate for the peace of mind of the whole male
sex that she happened to be alone.

Richard Crawford had taken off that bandage, and that bandage must come
into her possession at once, while the preparation was fresh. But how
was it to be obtained? Where had he put it? From the fact that he had
been re-arranging his clothes while yet in a recumbent position, the
chances seemed to be that he had taken off the bandage, if at all,
without getting up, and that he then had it somewhere about him,
intending to lock it up or put it away when he rose to go to the
bed-room. He was very neat in his personal habits, as well as somewhat
nervous in disposition; and on the score of cleanliness he was not
likely to have put it into one of his pockets, while if he indeed felt
it to be poison he would have been quite as unlikely to retain it so
near his person. Joe felt that if removed, that bandage must be
somewhere about the sofa. How to get it, even then? He would not be at
all likely to go to bed, leaving it there; besides, she wanted it _at
once_! He must be got suddenly out of the room, and he was too weak and
suffering to remove often or on small provocation. The piano!--ah, yes,
she would try the piano!

Joe's musical performances were always pyrotechnic; except on particular
occasions when the sad soul that underlay the merriment came uppermost,
and then they were mournful enough to tempt suicide. To say that she
knew nothing about music, would be untrue of any one taught at the same
trouble and expense; but to say that she understood it, taking the
knowledge of other people as a standard, would be equally incorrect.
When studying music under an excellent teacher, it had been found
impossible to confine her to any set rules, and quite as impossible to
make her execute her lessons properly. When she should have been
performing that routine duty, her eolian piano at home was half the time
turned into a banjo or a harp, tinkling a serenade, or into an organ,
playing some ponderous old anthem or sobbing out some dirge of a broken
heart. These were all well enough, in their way, but they were not
studying the piano. As a result, she could produce all those effects
upon the instrument, that no one else wo