ed several days among its tributary isles. There we
saw the viceroys of him who reigned in the hollow: chieftains of whom
Donjalolo was proud; so honest, humble, and faithful; so bent upon
ameliorating the condition of those under their rule. For, be it
said, Donjalolo was a charitable prince; in his serious intervals,
ever seeking the welfare of his subjects, though after an imperial
view of his own. But alas, in that sunny donjon among the mountains,
where he dwelt, how could Donjalolo be sure, that the things he
decreed were executed in regions forever remote from his view. Ah!
very bland, very innocent, very pious, the faces his viceroys
presented during their monthly visits to Willamilla. But as cruel
their visage, when, returned to their islets, they abandoned
themselves to all the license of tyrants; like Verres reveling down
the rights of the Sicilians.

Like Carmelites, they came to Donjalolo, barefooted; but in their
homes, their proud latchets were tied by their slaves. Before their
king-belted prince, they stood rope-girdled like self-abased monks of
St. Francis; but with those ropes, before their palaces, they hung
Innocence and Truth.

As still seeking Yillah, and still disappointed, we roved through
the lands which these chieftains ruled, Babbalanja exclaimed--"Let us
depart; idle our search, in isles that have viceroys for kings."

At early dawn, about embarking for a distant land, there came to us
certain messengers of Donjalolo, saying that their lord the king,
repenting of so soon parting company with Media and Taji, besought
them to return with all haste; for that very morning, in Willamilla,
a regal banquet was preparing; to which many neighboring kings had
been invited, most of whom had already arrived.

Declaring that there was no alternative but compliance, Media
acceded; and with the king's messengers we returned to the glen.

CHAPTER LXXXIV
Taji Sits Down To Dinner With Five-And-Twenty Kings, And A Royal Time
They Have

It was afternoon when we emerged from the defile. And informed that
our host was receiving his guests in the House of the Afternoon,
thither we directed our steps.

Soft in our face, blew the blessed breezes of Omi, stirring the
leaves overhead; while, here and there, through the trees, showed the
idol-bearers of the royal retreat, hand in hand, linked with festoons
of flowers. Still beyond, on a level, sparkled the nodding crowns of
the kings, like the constella