remember a past scene, and, sticking them in
the chandeliers, lighted the salon for a ball.
So they had a ball, and Polydore had to
play for them. One ape thrummed the
piano, another the accordion; Polydore,
after having been beaten about the head, was
forced to attempt the guitar.

Worse than this. When the amusements
of the evening grew rather slack, the
unhappy man was ordered to enliven the
monkey-guests by gymnastics; much of the
same description of exercises as men force
from monkeys. In vain he refused; he was
beaten till he was black and blue. In vain
he was unsuccessful, and fell instead of
climbing to the top of la perche; he was
beaten again. He had a taste now of
captivity, indeed, and knew better than he had
ever done before, what monkeys feel when
they fall into the hands of men.

Karabouffi had mysteriously quitted the
ball some time ago. He now returned, bearing
on his arm Saïmira, weeping, plaintive,
and disconsolate. It was plain that the king
had divorced the lovers, and forced poor ,
faithful Saïimira to himself. That was the
reason, then, why the unhappy Mococo was
confined; that the monarch might both feed
his revenge, and hold the threat of his
hostage over Saïmira, should she be recalcitrant
and disobliging. The little chimpanzee
could only look, her tender plaintive
sympathy with her former master, undergoing
these indignities. At last a thought seemed
to strike her. She became gay, lively,
coquettish; roused the jealousy of
Karabouffi; flirted openly before his eyes; until
the king, in a passion, dragged her rudely
from the ball-room; and the whole court
fled in his train. This was Saïmira's mode
of delivering Marasquin.

To barricade himself in the verandah, as
this portion of the house was called, was not
a work of time. In ten minutes Polydore
was safe from all attacks from the monkey-
world outside. He had food and lights here;
what more did he require? He laid himself
down and slept as tranquilly as if he had
been in his apartment at Macao. The next
day he ascended a small spiral staircase, which
led to Admiral Campbell's private study.
Looking out through the lattice-work, he
saw the whole army of apes drawn up about
his castle, strongly armed with sticks and
bludgeons, silently, and patiently, and
watchfully, besieging him. But he knew that he
was safe, and despised them. Searching
about, he found Lord Campbell's journal,
where, among other things too long to
mention here, he learned the mystery of the
skeleton. It was that of a mandrill, the
former monkey-king of the island, who,
disputing the admiral's possession, had been first
shot, then hung as a terror to all recusants
and rebels. The journal mentioned where
the rifle was placed, and Marasquin thus saw
himself in possession of a formidable weapon
of offence. On the strength of the good news
he went to dine. But, a new difficulty had
arisen—there was no water to be had; and
Polydore was beginning to suffer from the
strong and fiery wine of the British sailor.
This difficulty though not immediately pressing,
was not wholly  despicable. Peeping
again through the lattice-work, Polydore
beheld the besieging army still at their posts,
but with an increase of weapons. Before
each ape, lay a heap of stones.

Days passed. Polydore portioned out his
provisions, and found that he could live for
three years, at the least, on the Vice-
Admiral's stores. But for water? Not a
drop! Champagne and fiery wines in
abundance, but of pure water—not a drop.
This wine-drinking made the temperate
keeper ill and mad. After about a month of
it, in a fit of frenzy, he rushed to the
armchest, seized thirty rifles, loaded them all,
broke out two loopholes in the wall, and
prepared to deal death on all who opposed
him in the search for water. But what a
sight met his eyes! He had last looked on
two or three thousand apes; now, there were
twenty thousand, at least, and their stone
heaps had risen into mountains, piled up
higher than the top of the bell-tower.
Maddened and in desperation, Polydore fired:
and the battle began. Each rifle was loaded
with six balls, and each shot slew multitudes;
but multitudes appeared to take the places
of those who fell; while, like hail, came
thundering down showers of huge stones,
battering walls and roofs, and threatening to
end the siege in quicker time than was agreeable
to the besieged. However, night came
on, and a truce came with it.

Marasquin was in a state of habilimentary
destitution. His clothes had left him, even
to the last shred, and he was dying of
cold. Turning over the few chests yet
unrifled in the apartment, he came upon the
magnificent skin of Campbell's slaughtered
mandrill. The very thing for the poor
naked, shivering combatant. He thrust his
arms into the mandrill's arms, his legs into
the mandrill's legs, he pulled the hairy scalp
over his forehead, then sewed himself up
with twine—an ape complete.

When day dawned he ascended to his post;
but a few minutes' bombardment set the
question of the siege at rest; the walls were
falling about his ears. Resolved to die like
a man, he seized a Malay kreese in one hand
and a revolver in the other, then leaped from
the verandah into the midst of his enemies.
But what a miracle! The army, instead of
falling on him and tearing him to pieces, slunk
back in reverent dismay. It was a panic—a
superstitious awe. After a moment Karabouffi,
crawling on all-fours, and full of the most
terrible fear, writhed and crept up to him at
the head of the prostrate forces. He licked
his hands and feet, and all the army licked
his hands and feet. He abased himself