The only floor of the old tower (for there was but one) consisted of three rooms; one was rather large, and might have been in its best days of a vermilion color, but was now utterly discolored by great patches made by rain-water, which had changed it to a dull, yellowish, muddy hue. It was an ancient and gloomy-looking apartment, with all manner of rusty and antique Indian armor, shields, banners, spears, swords, bows and arrows, and lances ranged along the wall, which seemed to have been wielded by men of gigantic stature, and pointed to an epoch beyond the memory of the present race. Passing through this hall, we entered another and smaller room, the walls of which had also once been painted with gigantic flowers, birds, and beasts, among which the figure of the crocodile was most conspicuous. It contained a bed of state which looked like Indian, i.e. Bombay, workmanship, lifting to the ceiling a high, solemn canopy of that ponderous flowered silk called kinkaub. I cannot depict the scene: how the glimmering light within and the changing lights without, reflected from the dark green waters, touched upon and singled out for a momentary illumination one after another the picturesque arms and the gigantic pictures on the walls, and diffused an air of mystery over the whole. [Illustration: A LAOTIAN.] "Welcome, welcome, brave friend!" said one of the three dark young men I found seated within, who rose and came to meet me with a singular gesture of courtesy and respect, and whom I at once recognized, from his strong likeness to the Princess Sunartha Vismita, to be the Prince P'hra O'Dong Karmatha. The prince, for it was he, with an excitement he could not quite control, inquired if I had seen his sister. As I spoke, May-Peâh drew near and listened to what I said, with intense interest and anxiety expressed in her fine face. But when I handed the prince the letter, they were all inexpressibly delighted. All the others waited anxiously, turning silent looks of sympathy and affection on him, as he read it first to himself, and then aloud to the party. "May-Peâh" were the only two words I understood of its contents; but I saw two big drops like thunder-rain fall suddenly from the eyes of P'hra O'Dong on the blotted yellow paper, and his voice died away in a hoarse whisper as he concluded the strange epistle. After which the party were silent, saying nothing for nearly a whole hour, as it appeared to me, and absorbed each with his own thoughts.