At other times he resorted to such small devices as asking him for the salt, the pepper, the vinegar, the mustard--anything that was on his maimed side--and watching him as he handed it.

By dint of these experiments, he did at last so satisfy and convince himself, that, after a longer silence than he had yet maintained, he laid down his knife and fork on either side his plate, drank a long draught from a tankard beside him (still keeping his eyes on Joe), and leaning backward in his chair and fetching a long breath, said, as he looked all round the board: 'It's been took off!' 'By George!' said the Black Lion, striking the table with his hand, 'he's got it!' 'Yes, sir,' said Mr Willet, with the look of a man who felt that he had earned a compliment, and deserved it.

'That's where it is.

It's been took off.' 'Tell him where it was done,' said the Black Lion to Joe.
'At the defence of the Savannah, father.' 'At the defence of the Salwanners,' repeated Mr Willet, softly; again looking round the table.
'In America, where the war is,' said Joe.
'In America, where the war is,' repeated Mr Willet.

'It was took off in the defence of the Salwanners in America where the war is.' Continuing to repeat these words to himself in a low tone of voice (the same information had been conveyed to him in the same terms, at least fifty times before), Mr Willet arose from table, walked round to Joe, felt his empty sleeve all the way up, from the cuff, to where the stump of his arm remained; shook his hand; lighted his pipe at the fire, took a long whiff, walked to the door, turned round once when he had reached it, wiped his left eye with the back of his forefinger, and said, in a faltering voice: 'My son's arm--was took off--at the defence of the--Salwanners--in America--where the war is'-- with which words he withdrew, and returned no more that night.
Indeed, on various pretences, they all withdrew one after another, save Dolly, who was left sitting there alone.