naval uniform. In the midst was a huge
baboon with an admiral's cocked hat on his
head. It was Karabouffi the First, passing
judgment, in the midst of the court, on some
misdemeanants. Farther off was a row of
houses, which had been evidently pillaged
and destroyed. A light touch on his arm
recalled Marasquin from his wondering
reverie. He turned; and Saïmira, making a
sign of silence, led him gently away. Stooping
her head to show him where he was also
to stoop his, she led him in safety from that
frightful assembly, until they came to some
cages. Strongly secured in one was the
unfortunate Mococo. Saïmira asked plaintively
to have that cage opened, and Marasquin
comprehended and obeyed. The bolt was
shot back, and Mococo was free. The lovers
embraced; but, even in the midst of his joy,
Mococo rushed to Marasquin, and hung about
him like a child; caressing and embracing
him with eager affection. Their tenderness
was at its height when Saïmira heard a noise.
She hastily thrust Mococo back into his cage,
and motioned Polydore to secure it as before.
She then signed to him to follow her, and led
him to a grotto; where, by looks and gestures
as eloquent as words, she assured him he was
safe. But, notwithstanding Saïmira's attentions,
and notwithstanding his terror of the
apes he had escaped, the tedium of his situation
gained upon Polydore. After a week's
confinement he ventured forth, directing his
steps to the fire and smoke, which again he
sees at a distance. He gains it; and finds it
to be the crater of a volcano, round which
innumerable apes are standing in perfect
silence, throwing in leaves, sticks, branches,
trees—all they can find wherewith to feed it.
In a moment their silence is exchanged for a
simultaneous cry; and once more Marasquin
is in their hands. As they seize him, push,
hustle, and ill-treat him, he is enabled to
perceive that the buttons on the uniform, in
shreds and rags of which they are all
fantastically dressed, bear the impress of the
Halcyon—Vice-Admiral Campbell's vessel.

Karabouffi appears, accompanied by his
ministers, two kindred orang-outangs; and
the punishment of his old enemy is ordered.
He is seized by a chain of monkeys and swung
madly over the crater; higher, higher, faster
faster, the fierce flames leaping up, the fierce
forms round him growing darker and more
frantic; higher, faster, madder, until at last,
when the swing is at the wildest, he is flung
from the chain, and falls bleeding and bruised
on the ground. He is not suffered to swoon
at leisure, but is dragged up and forced into
one of the houses he has seen before. The
most pitiable scene of devastation meets him.
Windows broken, furniture smashed, torn,
and heaped in disorder about the rooms,
fragments of ladies' dresses, rags of British
uniform, books, all one mass of ruin and
confusion, as if the place had been delivered
into the hands of madmen. As indeed it
had been; "the eternal madmen of the
universe," as Marasquin calls his captors. He
is thrust into a room, where Karabouffi
appears covered with feathers, like some
monstrous ogreish bird. On a nearer examination,
Polydore discovers that the feathers are
quill pens, which, in exaggerated imitation of
clerks and secretaries, he has stuck about
him wherever a quill would stick. At a sign
and a sound, the former keeper is buffetted
into a smaller room, where two monkeys are
already at work, busily scrawling over sheets
of paper, which then are caught by two older
monkeys, signed, sealed, and thrown away.
Marasquin is ordered to do the like, and for
thrice twenty-four hours is kept unremittingly
at his labours, as secretary to his
Majesty, Karabouffi the First.

It was hard work. If at any moment
the poor human creature was failing from
want of sleep and weariness, the attendant
apes pinched and scratched him, and pulled
his hair, and drummed on his back, and
would have gone to still worse extremities
had he not roused himself, and resumed
his labours. On the fourth day a bell
rang, and all the world rushed out, Marasquin
with them; expecting surely to find
a human hand this time near his. No!
An ape had pulled the dinner-bell, and apes
assembled to dine at the sound. Marasquin
followed the stream, and found Karabouffi
and his ministers at table. They suffered
him to eat with them, but he relished neither
their food nor their companionship, and,
profiting by their pre-occupation, he rambled
through the apartments.

He came upon the kitchens: half-dead
with hunger as he was, the discovery made
him forget his miseries. But the court of
the Monkey-king had been before him, and
the larder was empty. He found, though,
some closets, locked and secured; he opened
them, and fell into the midst of a world of
edible wealth. A very mine of potted meats,
essences, jams, preserves, wines, and, though
not edible, yet valuable, wax candles. He
flung himself upon the viands, and devoured
the meal of a dozen men in a trice. But, not
to be greedy, he presented his majesty with
a colossal pot of quince marmalade; and
Karabouffi the First plunged himself up to
his shoulders therein. By an inadvertence
the closet was forced open, and the monkey-
world began the pillage. Marasquin had
broken the neck off a bottle of wine, and
drank the contents; and all the apes broke
the necks off all the bottles of wine they could
find, and drank the contents too. Here was
a scene! The monkey-world verging into a
state of universal drunkenness! Night was
coming on; it was growing dark; Polydore
was becoming mad with horror, when he
remembered the wax candles. He lighted
one; and the apes, seizing the whole store,
lighted every one in imitation. After nearly
setting fire to the house, they seemed to