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
Rambosalama, 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 Rambosalama
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 Rambosalama 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 Rambosalama. 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 Rambosalama, 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, Rambosalama," 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."
Rambosalama 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.