threatened death averted—buried alive—end of the tyrant queen—revolt crushed and radama the second crowned.
one morning, shortly after sunrise, mark was awakened by the entrance of their jailor. by that time he had grown so accustomed to clanking chains, shooting bolts, and such-like sounds, that he looked up sleepily and without much interest, but a thrill or qualm passed through him when he observed that the jailor was followed by hater of lies with his silver spear.
still more were he and his awakened comrades horrified when the names of ravoninohitriniony and voalavo were sternly called out. both men promptly stood up.
“at last!” said the former, quietly, and without a trace of excitement. “well, i am glad, for it is the lord’s will. farewell, my friends,” he added, looking back as he was led away, “we shall all meet again in great joy—farewell!”
evidently voalavo did not take things so quietly. his lips were firmly compressed, his face was deeply flushed, and his brows were sternly contracted, as they led him out. but for his chains the chief would certainly have given his jailors some trouble.
the whole thing passed so quickly that it seemed to those left behind like a dream when they found themselves alone. ebony sat down, put his face on his knees, and fairly burst into tears.
“oh! lord,” he sobbed, “send ’em quick for me, an’ let’s hab it ober!”
it seemed as if the poor fellow’s prayer was about to be answered, for again the door opened, and the secretary entered.
“be not afraid,” he said, observing their alarm, “i come not to summon you to death, but to ask you, doctor, to come and see the queen—she is ill.”
“oh! massa, pison her! do, massa! nobody would call it murder,” said the negro, with fervent entreaty.
paying no attention to this advice, mark followed the secretary, and the bolts were again drawn on his friends.
he found ranavalona suffering severely. indeed, for some time previous to that her health had been failing, and she would gladly have had the advice of her court physician, but seemed to be ashamed to send for him after the way she had caused him to be treated. there is this to be said for her, that she would probably have liberated him long ago, but for the advice of her minister, rainiharo, who was jealous of the young englishman’s growing popularity as well as a hater of his religion.
after prescribing for the queen and affording her some relief, he gave orders that she should be kept very quiet; that no noise was to be permitted in or near the palace. then he left her apartments with the secretary.
as they traversed one of the corridors, the latter told mark that the order had been given for the execution of ravonino and voalavo.
“was that order given by the queen?” demanded mark, flushing with indignation, while a gush of anxiety almost choked him.
“no, it was given by rainiharo, who takes advantage of his position and the queen’s illness.”
just then a step was heard at the further end of the passage, and hater of lies advanced towards them with his badge of office, the silver spear, in his hand.
like a flash of light an idea entered the young englishman’s head! he had no time to think or plan—only to act. in the same moment, however, he offered up a silent prayer for help.
as the officer was about to pass, mark snatched the spear from his hand and brought the handle of it down on its owner’s crown with such good-will that the hater of lies was laid flat upon the floor!
thunder-struck, the secretary gazed at his young companion. “you are ruined now!” he said.
“true, and you must be ruined along with me! here, take the spear and act the part of the hater of lies.”
for a moment the secretary hesitated—then, as if suddenly making up his mind, he said—
“come, i am with you heart and soul!”
“lead to the place of execution—quick,” cried mark.
“we will take the prison in passing,” said his companion, grasping the spear and hastening onward.
the prison was soon reached. the guards were a little surprised at the change of the bearer, but no one dared to think of opposing the passage of the well-known and awful emblem of office!
“come, hockins, ebony, laihova, follow us,” cried mark, springing in.
he did not wait to explain. the secretary, acting his part well, stalked with grand solemnity down the streets towards the western gate of the city. his four friends followed. every one made way. hockins and the negro, not knowing what they might be called on to do, took the first opportunity that presented, each to seize and carry off a garden-stake, as a substitute for cudgel or quarter-staff.
the guards, as before, let them pass without question. once outside the town they quickened their pace, and finally ran.
“we may be too late!” gasped mark.
“it may be so—but we have not far to go.” as he spoke they distinguished sounds as of men engaged in a struggle. on turning a point of rock they came in sight of a party of twelve soldiers. they were struggling fiercely with one man, whom they tried to bind. but the man seemed to possess the power of samson.
“it’s voalavo,” cried hockins, and rushed to the rescue.
“das so,” cried the negro, following suit with blazing eyes.
snatching the silver spear from the secretary, mark sprang forward like a wild-cat, and, sweeping it right and left, brought down two of the men. his comrades overturned two others whose muskets they seized, while voalavo, with the power of a giant, hurled two others from him as if they had been boys. he did not stop to speak, but to the surprise of his rescuers, ran straight into a neighbouring coppice, and disappeared.
for one moment the remaining soldiers lowered their bayonets as if to charge, but the secretary, grasping the hater of lies, said, in a commanding tone—
“what means this haste? ye shall answer to the queen for what you have done! go! return to your quarters. you are under arrest. carry your comrades with you!”
cowed by this speech, for they all knew the secretary to be a man of position and power in the palace, the soldiers humbly picked up their fallen comrades and retired. the victors immediately ran into the coppice in search of voalavo, whom they found on his knees, digging up the earth with both hands as if for very life! just as they came up he had uncovered the face of ravonino, who had been buried alive, and was already as pale as if he were dead.
“have they killed him?” gasped laihova, as he dropped on his knees with the others, and began to dig.
“no—they do not kill when the sentence is to bury alive,” said the secretary, “but no doubt he is half-suffocated.”
the grave was very shallow—not more than a foot deep, and a living man might without much difficulty have struggled out of it, but the poor man had been bound to a long pole, which was buried along with him, so that he could not move. they soon got him out, and were about to cast him loose when there arose a cry in the city which quickly increased to a mighty roar.
“they have found out our trick,” said the secretary. “nothing can save us now but flight. come—take him up. this way!”
in a moment hockins and ebony had the ends of the pole on their shoulders, and bore their still unconscious friend after the secretary. the noise and shouting in the town increased, and it soon became evident that they were pursued, being led, no doubt, by the soldiers who had been so roughly handled.
“this way,” cried their guide, turning sharp into a by-path which led them into a small garden, “a friend—a christian—dwells here.”
the friend turned out to be an old woman who was rather deaf, but she heard enough to understand the situation.
“here!” she said, tottering into a back-yard, in which was a quantity of straw and rubbish. “go down there.”
she pointed to a hole. it was the mouth of a rice-hole. down went the secretary, without a word, and turned to receive the end of the pole which hockins passed carefully in. the rest followed. the old woman put on the cover and threw over it some of the rubbish.
being pitch dark, the nature of the place could not be distinguished by the fugitives, but they could hear the shouting of the soldiers who searched the house for them. they could also hear the angry queries that were put to the owner of the place, and they could perceive that the old woman had miraculously become dumb as well as stone deaf!
soon the quietness overhead led them to hope that the soldiers had left. in a short time the cover of the rice-hole was removed, and the old woman, putting her head down, informed them that all was safe, at least in the meantime.
they now unfastened ravonino from the pole, and found, to their great joy, that he was yet alive, though considerably shaken. a little rice-soup, however, and a night’s rest, put him all right again.
in that hole, carefully tended by the deaf old woman, these six were compelled to secrete themselves for a week, during which time the soldiers were scouring the country in all directions in search of them. they had to keep so close, and to be so careful, that they did not even dare to let the old woman go near the neighbours to inquire what was going on in the town, though naturally they were very anxious on that point.
at the end of that week, while the fugitives were taking a breath of fresh air in the yard, they were surprised by hearing the tramp of approaching soldiers. to dive into their hiding-place and be covered over by the old woman was the work of a few seconds. anxiously they listened while the renewed search was going on. the sounds sometimes showed that the searchers were retiring from the yard, at other times drawing near to it. at last a step was heard on the rubbish heap above them; then a blow resounded on their covering, as if with the butt-end of a musket. this was followed by a shout, a clamour of voices, and a hasty clearing away of the rubbish.
“all is lost!” exclaimed the secretary in his native tongue.
“not while we have arms,” growled voalavo.
“you need not count on me to help you,” said ravonino, quietly, in the native tongue; “why should we slaughter men uselessly? if we had a chance of making a dash i would fight. but we can get out of this hole only one by one, and no doubt a hundred men await us!”
“is we a-goin’ to fight, massa?” asked the negro, hopefully.
“of coorse we are,” said hockins.
“no, my friend, we are not,” said the secretary, “our only hope, now, is in god.”
“it seems to me,” rejoined ravonino, “that god is our only hope at all times—whether in danger or in safety; but he makes it plain just now that our duty, as well as our wisdom, lies in quiet submission.”
ebony received this remark with a groan, and hockins with something like a growl. just then the covering of their hiding-place was thrown off, and several bayonet-points appeared.
“come out, one at a time, quietly, else we will shoot you where you stand!” exclaimed a stern voice.
the secretary translated this. at the same time ravonino clambered out of the rice-hole, and was instantly seized and bound.
“it’s all over now—may the lord have mercy on us!” exclaimed hockins, dropping his weapon and following his friend.
whatever might have been the various feelings of the unfortunate party, the example thus set was accepted, for each one submitted, and when mark looked round on the large band of armed men by whom they were surrounded, he perceived the wisdom of ravonino’s advice, and how hopeless would have been any attempt on the part of himself and his friends to break through and escape.
silently, and without a word of explanation, the officer in command led his captives into the town. they were too much overwhelmed by their calamitous circumstances to pay much attention to anything, yet they could not help observing that greater crowds of people than usual were hurrying through the streets, and that every one wore, more or less, an air of excitement.
our friends had expected to be cast into their old prison, but they were led straight to the palace, where they were handed over to the officer on duty. in spite of the depression of his spirits, the secretary could not resist his feelings of curiosity, and asked what all the stir meant, but he received no answer.
the prisoners were now conducted into a large room, where they found prince rakota standing, surrounded by a crowd of people—male and female. beside the prince was his cousin, ramonja. ravonino and laihova observed—with a gush of feeling which may be understood but not described—that rafaravavy and ra-ruth were among the ladies. poor reni-mamba was also there, her mild face showing unmistakable traces of the suffering caused by the loss of her only son.
“welcome, my friends,” said rakota, hastening forward to receive the prisoners. “you are now safe and free!”
“safe? free?” repeated the secretary, in surprise.
“yes. have they not told you the news?” he asked, while an expression, as of pain, passed over his face, “my mother—the queen—is dead! but come,” he added quickly, as if he wished to avoid the subject, “i wish to consult with you, for serious dangers threaten us. come.”
he left the room quickly, followed by the secretary, while ravonino and laihova were drinking in the news from the respective lips that pleased them best. the facts were soon communicated to all the party.
the queen, they said, who had been declining in health for a considerable time past, had latterly become much worse. no doubt her failure to stamp out christianity must have aggravated her complaint, for the effect of her extreme severity was rather to advance than hinder the good cause. the persecutions—the banishments—the murders—of twenty-five years, instead of checking, had spread the gospel far and wide over the land, for, as in the first days, ‘they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the word,’ and the amazing constancy, and courage, and tenderness to their enemies, of the noble army of martyrs, had given a depth and power to the christian life which might otherwise have been wanting.
at all events, whatever the cause, ranavalona the first sank rapidly, and, on the 15th of august, 1861, after a reign of thirty-three years, the tyrant queen of madagascar passed away to the tribunal of the king of kings.
her son, prince rakota, was her successor; but his succession was not to be unopposed. he had a rival claimant to the throne in his own cousin rambosalàma, an able, wary, and unscrupulous man, who, on perceiving that the end was approaching, had laid his plans secretly and extensively for seizing the reins of government. prince rakota, however, was so much beloved that all his cousin’s plans were revealed to him by his friends, but the disposition of the prince was too humane to permit of his adopting the usual savage means to foil his foe.
“all has been told to me,” he said to the secretary. “my cousin has gained many to his side—especially of those who hate the christians. he has even hired men to kill me! i know it, because one of the assassins came last night and warned me. at the same time he confessed that he had intended to commit the crime.”
“but have you not taken steps to thwart your cousin!”
“i have. for some time past every allowable measure for our protection has been taken, but the religion of jesus, as you know, forbids me to resort to poison, the chain, or the spear. my reign shall not begin with bloodshed if i can help it. you know that my good friend the commander-in-chief of the troops, rainiharo’s son, is on our side. finding that my cousin went about armed, he recently issued an order that no one should be allowed to carry arms in the palace. as i myself bowed to this order, and submitted to be searched, of course rambosalàma had no excuse for refusing. then, as a precaution, we have concealed from all except sure friends the orders which, from day to day, have regulated the movements of the troops. i have met daily in council those on whom i can depend, and our course of action is all arranged. only one point remains unsettled, and it is that which i ask you to undertake—for your will is resolute.”
“whatever my prince requires of me shall be done—if it be not against the laws of my god,” said the secretary.
rakota looked pleased with the reply. “i want you,” he said, “to stand in the passage here, till rambosalàma appears. he is sure to pass, being now in the death-chamber, to which i return speedily. his followers will be in force in the palace-yard—i hear the multitudes assembling even now. when he passes this way it will be to give the signal of revolt. you will stop him. if he resists, use force—you are strong! you understand?”
the secretary looked intelligent, and bowed as the prince rose and left him. then he hastily sought for and found his friend ebony, with whom he had struck up a sort of happy-go-lucky friendship.
meanwhile the multitudes, who had heard early in the morning that the queen was dying, had crowded every street that led to the palace. some had even pressed into the courts in their anxiety to know the truth. laxity seemed to prevail among the guards, for many people who carried weapons ill-concealed in their lambas, and whose looks as well as movements were suspicious, were allowed to enter. these were the partisans of rambosalàma. indeed it is probable that even among the guards themselves there were adherents of the pretender.
but the faithful commander-in-chief was on the alert, and had laid his plans. he stood in the chamber of death where the mourners were weeping. he watched with keen eye the movements of rambosalàma, and when that prince left the room for the purpose of giving the signal to his followers, he slipped quietly out and gave his counter-signal, which was the waving of a scarf from a window. instantly a trumpet sounded, and more than a thousand trusty soldiers who had been in waiting marched into the palace courts.
hearing the trumpet, the pretender hastened along the passage that led to the court. at the end of it a door opened, and the secretary, stepping out, confronted him.
“well met, rambosalàma,” he said, taking his arm in a friendly but firm way, “i have somewhat to say to you.”
“not now, not now!” exclaimed the other, hastily. “i am wanted outside! another time—”
“no time like the present,” interrupted the secretary, tightening his grasp, “come this way.”
rambosalàma taking alarm, tried to wrench himself free, but the secretary was strong. at the same moment a powerful black hand grasped the nape of his neck.
“come now, sar, you go ’long quiet an’ comf’r’able an’ nobody hurt you. dis way. das a sweet little chamber for de naughty boys.”
with a force that there was no resisting ebony pushed the prince into a small room with a very small window. the door was shut, the key turned, and the danger was past!
immediately afterwards the commander-in-chief appeared on the balcony of the palace, announced the queen’s death to the multitude, and, amid demonstrations of wildest joy, alike from soldiers and people, proclaimed rakota king of madagascar, under the title of radama the second.
in the afternoon of the same day the king presented himself to the people, arrayed in royal robes, with a crown on his head, and surrounded by his chief nobles.
so overjoyed were the people at the blessed change from the tyranny of a cruel woman to the sway of a gentle prince, that it was some time before they could be quieted. when silence was obtained, the king, in a few and simple words, assured his subjects that his great desire was, and his aim would be, to devote himself to their welfare, and that of the country over which he had been called to reign.
