The natives laughed, and intimated that the light came from King Edmond’s palace. “Who is King Edmond?” “Not know. Frenchman. Not Wesleyan; not Bishop’s man. Come from Sydney;” were the four distinct replies received from the natives. “From Sydney?” said the Doctor; “then it is no other than Thierry; the fellow was there in ’35. He proclaimed himself, ‘by the grace of God King of Nebuhwa and sovereign chief of New Zealand,’ and he showed documents to prove that he had the support of Louis Philippe and his Government. He drew upon the same French Government, and raised a considerable sum of money by the sale of the bills, which were discounted by some queer people, considering they came from so far north as Aberdeen; and which, on being forwarded to their destination, were, as might be expected, returned dishonoured. Nevertheless, with the proceeds he got together a body of retainers, chartered a ship, and came over to Hokianga.” “What did the resident say to it?” asked a young engineer, of a native at his side. “What resident speak, Mister Chalton? He no speak! he go mad! Church missionaries go madder; and chiefs maddest of all. Write to Queen Victoria; Queen speak:—‘New Zealand chiefs all independent. King Thierry no king.’ Church missionaries almost mad like chiefs, cause Thierry speak Hokianga land belong to him.” “No wonder!” said the doctor, “for his Majesty declared that the Church missionaries had sold it to him, years before, for twenty tomahawks! What did he do at Hokianga?” “Make fine coat for naked Zealander,” said one of the natives, with a grin. “A royal tailor, by Jove!” exclaimed the medicus. After some further discussion upon this strange personage, the travellers agreed to make for his island palace, and ask hospitality. Leaving two natives in charge of the boat and luggage, under the guidance of the other two the English travellers made their way, with difficulty, over stumps of trees and decayed logs, to the royal residence. On reaching the palace, they found, to their dismay, that it had nothing to distinguish it from the huts of the natives, save one solitary glazed window. At the back there was a hole, which served for a door; a Kawri board was fixed against it, and to this the four travellers applied their knuckles. They had not long to wait; the board was removed by an ill-dressed man, of perhaps fifty years of age, who welcomed them into a tolerably neat kitchen, well-warmed by a blazing fire. To an inquiry as to whether they could see the Baron, he announced himself as Baron, and Sovereign Chief of New Zealand. He reiterated his welcome; introduced them to his wife, who confidently believed that her husband was a sovereign, because he had told her so twenty times a day for the last three years; and he finally asked them if they were fond of music. The guests pleaded guilty to the taste, but they also honestly confessed that they were exceedingly hungry.