We will take up our traveller’s route at Kamput, on the sea-coast, where he had an interview with the king of Cambodia, and obtained carriages to convey him to Udong, the capital. Udong is situated about one hundred and thirty-five miles to the north-east of Kamput, and four miles and a half from an arm of the Mekong which forms the Great Lake. After traversing a marshy plain he and his followers entered a noble forest, and “under green leaves” proceeded to Udong, resting at night in stations provided for the accommodation of travellers. These are about twelve miles apart, and are not only spacious but handsome. The road all the way proved to be in excellent order, and averaged from eighty to one hundred feet in width. A broad track in the middle is reserved for vehicles and elephants, while on either side extends a belt of turf, covered with shrubs, and bounded by the lofty and majestic trees of the forest. On drawing near the capital, M. Mouhot saw that the country exhibited signs of cultivation: fields of rice waved luxuriantly, and the country residences of the Cambodian nobles were surrounded by beautiful gardens. The capital was protected by a large moat, surmounted by a parapet, and enclosed by a palisade ten feet high. There were no sentinels at the gate, however, and M. Mouhot entered unchallenged; nay, more, without let or hindrance passed into the palace-court of the second king of Cambodia. ~A CAMBODIAN PALACE.~ ~MOUHOT AND THE KING.~ This distinguished personage soon heard of the stranger’s arrival, and despatched a couple of pages to summon him to his presence. Mouhot would have excused himself on the plea that his luggage had not arrived, and he was not in suitable attire. He was told that the king had no dress at all; and before he could invent a second excuse, the king’s Chamberlain arrived with a more peremptory message. Mouhot, therefore, repaired to the palace, the entrance of which was guarded by a dozen dismounted cannon, and was shown into the audience-chamber, the walls of which were whitened with chalk, and the floor paved with large Chinese tiles. Here, waiting for the king’s appearance, were collected several Siamese pages, from twenty-five to thirty years of age, all dressed alike in a langouti of red silk. As the king entered every forehead touched the ground. His manner was graceful and self-possessed, and the questions he asked were pertinent and sensible. Was M. Mouhot French or English? What was his business in Cambodia? What did he think of Bangkok? Then, with all the ease of a European sovereign, he held out his hand for Mouhot to kiss; and the latter withdrew, well pleased with the interview. ~A BUSY SCENE.~