'It was not I,' said Hiram, with as much calmness as he could command, while he looked at the other fixedly--'it was not I.' 'Glad to hear you say so. If it had been, I would have made kindling wood of you--yes, kindling wood of you!--That's all got along with,' he added, lowering the cleaver. 'Now take a seat.' The madman sat down on one side of a small table, and motioned Hiram to occupy the chair opposite. He did so. 'Now we are comfortable. Don't you think so? Shan't have to move, shall we? Old Meeker, d----n his soul!--don't own this house. Come, let's have a gay old time!'--and he commenced, half shouting, half singing: 'Ain't I glad to get out of the wilderness-- To get out of the wilderness, To get out of the wilderness?-- Ain't I glad to get out of the wilderness? Hip, hip, hurrah!' Hiram sat pale, but not trembling. He knew his very life depended on his composure, and he believed that the noise which the madman was making would soon bring persons to the spot. 'You don't seem to like my little song,' he exclaimed, 'I will give you another.' And he shouted on: 'I wish I was a horse, as big as any elephant-- As big as any elephant, As big as any elephant-- I wish I was a horse, as big as any elephant-- Hip, hip, hurrah!' 'That's better, ain't it?' Suddenly he turned and looked at the corpse. 'Wife--wife! who said 'wife' to me?--who said 'wife' to me?' And he burst forth more furiously than ever: 'My wife's dead, and I want another one-- And I want another one, And I want another one-- My wife's dead, and I want another one-- Hip, hip, hurrah!' The man had now become so much excited, that he commenced walking rapidly around the room, brandishing his weapon in a most reckless manner. Hiram's situation was becoming critical. He did not lose his self-possession, but began to balance the chances of attempting to escape by moving swiftly to the door, against keeping his seat and closely watching the maniac. As if divining what was passing in his mind, the madman suddenly placed his back to the door, as if to bar any egress, and commenced singing again. Relief came at last. Hiram, whose every sense was on the alert, thought he saw the knob of the door turn. He was not mistaken; for now it commenced partially to open. The maniac, feeling the pressure, turned about, leaving the entrance free--and Dr. Ephraim Peters entered. He seemed to take in matters at a glance. Addressing the madman in a calm but commanding tone, he said: 'How is it that you have disobeyed me? I shall not trust you again. Sit down.' The effect was electrical. An entire change came over the countenance and bearing of the maniac; he dropped the cleaver, and, passing to the other side of the room, took a seat in close proximity to the corpse. Then turning, the young doctor addressed Hiram: 'Is your presence here forced or voluntary?' 'Purely accidental.'