'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one _lives_ it--to not many is it _known_; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.'--GOETHE. 'SUCCESSFUL.--Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or intended.'--WEBSTER'S _Dictionary_. CHAPTER VI. About two weeks after Hiram's interview with Dr. Ephraim Peters, he had occasion to spend a long evening in company with certain influential members (of which he, of course, was the most influential) of St. Jude's. It was past eleven o'clock when the meeting broke up. It was a clear, cold, December night, and Hiram buttoned his coat quite to his chin as he descended the steps to commence his walk home. Some had carriages in waiting; but he, fully alive to his brother's advice, preferred to go on foot. One gentleman kept him company for a couple of blocks; after that, he proceeded alone. As he passed the corner of a street which ran at right angles to the one he was pursuing, a man came suddenly upon him, and, standing square in his path, demanded in a savage tone, 'Do you want your wood split?' Hiram turned quickly aside, to avoid the questioner; but he had time to observe that he was an athletic man, with a limping gait, and a fierce, demoniacal countenance. He carried in his hand something like a butcher's cleaver; and before Hiram could escape, he repeated the question: 'Do you want your wood split?' Hiram uttered a hasty 'No,' in response, and walked swiftly forward. The stranger was not to be so easily disposed of. He put himself before the millionnaire a second time, and repeated his question. Hiram Meeker was not a coward--that is, so far as his brain served him; and we all know he had enough of that. Finding he was not to get rid of the unknown so readily, he stopped and regarded him with careful scrutiny. The other repeated his question still again: 'Do you want your wood split?' Hiram was not slow to perceive that the man was insane, and he endeavored to humor him. 'Yes,' he said, 'I want my wood split very much indeed. It is too late to-night; but come to my house to-morrow, and you shall have the job.' 'Oh, no, no, no!' cried the other, 'I work only by night--only by night--and I cannot go to your house--you must come to mine!' He laid hold of Hiram's arm with a tenacious grasp. 'I must first go home,' said Hiram, calmly, 'and send my wood round for you to split.' 'Not so, not so,' retorted the maniac. 'It has already been sent. Come and see!'--and he began pulling at Hiram's arm--not with ferocity, but with a doggedness almost worse. Hiram looked up and down the street. Not a soul was visible. The creature who stopped his way was a powerful man--was armed with a deadly weapon--was mad.