In the rear of the house the young men detected another foliate shed, in which were, secured to some rough stalls, numerous specimens of horse-flesh; while in the vicinity were scattered drays, light spring carts, and even shakey gigs, evidently the conveyances of the various guests. Here our friends left their horses; and judging the best place to present themselves to their host, and where they were most likely to see him, would be the leafy hall, they bent thither their steps. Upon reaching the entrance they perceived the company was being enlivened by the performance of some disciple of Apollo, who was venting forth in a stentorian voice a rendering of "The Maniac;" and when he uttered (as the young men arrested their steps so as not to "disturb the harmony"): "No, by heavens! I am not mad," they really thought he was under the same strange hallucination as the subject of the song, and labouring to deceive himself upon a reality. If he was not mad, they imagined, he was at least bordering on that state; while the whole of his hearers were not far removed from the same, when they tolerated such uproar unworthily dignified by the name of music.
However, when the song ceased, in the midst of the deafening shouts, and clatter of tumblers etc. that followed, William and his companion entered; and at once distinguished the late singer as the individual who sat at the head of the board. This personage was a coarse-looking, red-faced, thick-set fellow; with lowering eyebrows, bushy moustache (though otherwise cleanly shaved face), and hair of an objectionable, though undefinable colour. He was dressed, as far as was perceptible, in a black coat, white waistcoat, and neckerchief, and with an immense frill front to his shirt. He seemed to be exceedingly heated with the exertion of his song; and was drying his face and forehead with a white handkerchief, in which action he was displaying more than one massive ring; adorning fingers, that, to the eyes of our friends, proved experience in more active and manual employment than military discipline would be likely to require. He sat smiling complacently at his friends, as one who was conscious of having displayed the possession of a valuable talent; and, though gratified by the adulation of his hearers, he took it as a just homage, and as a proof that they were not destitute of a phrygian taste; or at least could appreciate music, when they heard it in perfection, as when he himself sang.