After introducing me, with much courtesy and friendliness, to his brother, a young man of fifteen, who was kneeling by his side, the king said, “I have had this fowl and duck cooked in the European fashion; tell me if they are to your taste.” All had been really exceedingly well prepared; the fish, particularly, was capital. “Good brandy,” said the king, in English (the only words he knew in that language), as he pointed to a bottle of cognac. “Drink,” continued he. The attendants then placed before me jellies and exquisitely preserved fruits, bananas, and excellent mangoes. Afterwards tea was served, of which the king also partook, having first offered me a Manilla cigar. He then wound up a musical-box, and put it on the table. The first air gave me great pleasure, all the more because I was unprepared to hear it in a royal palace. It was the _Marseillaise_. The king took my start and look of astonishment for admiration. “Do you know that air?” he asked. “Yes, sire.” Then followed another scarcely less familiar, the air of the Girondins, _Mourir pour la patrie_. “Do you also know that?” As an answer, I accompanied the air with the words. “Does your Majesty like this air?” I inquired. “Not so well as the first.” “Your Majesty is right; most European sovereigns have the same taste.” “Napoleon, for instance?” “Napoleon, particularly.” My Annamite was with me, and filled the office of interpreter, with a perfect tact which pleased the king. The young prince now asked permission to retire, and saluted his brother by bowing to the earth and raising his clasped hands above his head. The king desired him to return the next morning, and accompany us to the palace of the first king; and the prince, passing out into the courtyard, was lifted astride on the shoulders of an attendant, and carried to his palace. His Majesty then displayed to me his European furniture, mahogany tables covered with china vases and other ornaments of a commonplace description; above all, he pointed out, as worthy of notice, two old looking-glasses in gilt frames, a sofa, and various similar articles. “I am but beginning,” said he; “in a few years my palace will be beautiful.” He afterwards took me into his garden, where were some rare and curious plants, and a miniature artificial rock. Then, on returning to the sitting-room, he conducted me past the inmates of his seraglio, at least a hundred in number, whom curiosity had brought out to gaze at the stranger. “You are the first foreigner who has ever been admitted here,” he said to me. “In Cambodia, as in Siam, no one but the people on duty can penetrate into the king’s private apartments.” THE SECOND KING.