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“Of course,” replied the Professor. “You hated the island when you thought it might promote the interests of science. But some lovers’ nonsense would keep you here willingly for life. Just like a woman.”

“The King,” said the Hermit, “has espoused the cause of Sir Bleoberis, and we hope he may win the lady for the knight whom she loves.”

“The King, eh? Then you have a monarchical government?”

“We have eleven kings upon this island.”

“All reigning?”

“Yes.”

“How many people are there in the whole island?”

“No one knows, exactly. One hundred thousand, possibly.”

“Not ten thousand men apiece for the kings! Humph! In my country we have a million men in one town, and nobody but a common man to rule them.”

“Incredible!”

“And what is the name of your particular king,—the one who is lord of this part of the country?”

“King Brandegore; a wise, and good, and valiant monarch.”

“Tilly,” said the Professor, “you might as well jot that down. Eleven kings on the island, and King Brandegore running this part of the government. I must get acquainted with him.”