"On Thursday, 29th August 1861, we that were in concealment appeared.
Then all the people were astonished when they saw us, that we were
alive and not yet buried or eaten by the dogs. And there were a great
many people desiring to see us, for they considered us as dead, and
this is what astonished them. On the 9th of September, those that
were in fetters came to Antananarivo, but they could not walk on
account of the weight of the heavy fetters and their weak and feeble
bodies."
It was a strange gathering, and there were many surprises in the church
that day, and some strange music too, besides that of psalms and hymns
and spiritual songs, for, during the service, several exiles who had
just arrived, hearing what was going on, had hastened to the scene of
reunion without waiting to have their fetters filed off, and entered the
house in clanking chains.
The preacher's duty was one of unusual difficulty, for, besides these
peculiar interruptions and the exclamations of surprised friends, the
sympathy of his own heart nearly choked his utterance more than once.
But Totosy was equal to the occasion. His heart was on fire, his lips
were eloquent, and the occasion was one of a thousand, never to be
forgotten. Despite difficulties, he held his audience spell-bound while
he discoursed of the "wonderful words of God" and the shower of blessing
which had begun to fall.
Suddenly, during a momentary pause in the discourse, the clanking of a
very heavy chain was heard, and a man was seen to make his way through
the crowd. Like Saul, head and shoulders above his fellows, gaunt,
worn, and ragged, he had been standing near the door, not listening,
apparently, to the preacher, but intent on scanning the faces of the
congregation. Discovering at length what he looked for, he forced his
way to the side of Reni-mamba, sank at her feet, and with a profound
sigh--almost a groan--laid his head upon her lap!
Mamba, grown to a giant, seemed to have come back to her. But it was
not her son. It was Andrianivo, her long-lost husband! For one moment
poor Reni seemed terrified and bewildered, then she suddenly grasped the
man's prematurely grey head in both hands and covered the face with
passionate kisses, uttering every now and then a shriek by way of
relieving her feelings.
Great though the preacher's power was in overcoming the difficulties of
his position, Reni-Mamba's meek spirit, when thus roused, was too much
for him. He was obliged to stop. At the same moment the gaunt giant
arose, gathered up Reni in his great arms as if she had been a mere
baby, and, without a word, stalked out of the meeting to the music of
his clanking chains. A Malagasy cheer burst from the sympathetic
people.
"Praise the Lord! Let us sing!" shouted the wise Totosy, and in a few
seconds the congregation was letting off its surplus steam in tremendous
and jubilant song, to the ineffable joy of Ebony, who must have burst
out in some other way had not this safety-valve been provided.
But there were more surprises in store for that singular meeting. After
the sermon the preacher announced that two marriages were about to be
solemnised by him in the simplest manner possible. "My friends," he
said, "one of the bridegrooms is only half a Malagasy, the other half of
him is English. He objects to ceremony, and his friend, the other man
to be married, objects to everything that _he_ objects to, and agrees to
everything that _he_ agrees to, which is a very satisfactory state of
mind in a friend; so they are to be married together."
Immediately after this speech Ravonino led forward Rafaravavy, and
Laihova advanced with Ra-Ruth, and these two couples were then and there
united in matrimony. Radama the Second, and Prince Ramonja, who had
been recalled and reinstated with the Secretary, and Soa, and other
courtiers, graced the wedding with their presence.
From this time, Radama the Second--or Rakota, as we still prefer to call
him--began systematically to undo the mischief which his wicked mother
had done. He began to build a college; he re-opened the schools
throughout the country which had been closed in the previous reign, and
acted on principles of civil and religions liberty and universal free
trade, while the London Missionary Society--which had sent out the first
Protestant Missionaries in 1818-20--were invited to resume their
beneficent labours in the island--an invitation which, of course, they
gladly accepted, and at once despatched the veteran Mr Ellis, and other
missionaries, to the re-opened field. _See Note 1_.
But all this, and much more historical matter of great interest, we must
leave untouched, in order that we may wind up the record of our heroes'
fortunes, or misfortunes; as the reader pleases to consider them.
The events which we have described occurred in such rapid succession
that our trio--Mark, Hockins, and Ebony--had scarce found breathing-time
to consider what they should do, now that they were free to do as they
pleased.
"Go home, ob course," said Ebony, when the question was mooted. "Ain't
my black darlin' awaitin' ob me dar?"
"I incline to the same course," said Mark, "for my--well, I won't say
who, is awaiting me there also."
"Unless she's falled in lub wid some one else, tinkin' you was dead,
massa, you know," suggested Ebony.
"Ditto, says I," answered Hockins, when appealed to, "for, to the best
o' my belief, my old ooman is awaitin' for me, too, over there--he
pointed to England with the stem of his pipe--to say nothin' o' three
thumpin' boys an' a gal--also an old gran'-mother an' a maiden aunt,
etceterer--all awaitin' with great patience, I have no manner o' doubt."
"But how's we to git dar? Das de question; as Hamblit said to his
moder's ghost."
The question was answered sooner than they expected, for while they were
yet speaking, a summons came from the King commanding the immediate
attendance of the Court Physician. The object was to offer Mark his
appointment permanently, but Mark respectfully, yet firmly, declined the
honour.
"I feared that," said the King, "for I doubt not that you has friends in
your native home which draws you. Well, you wishes to go. I say, `Go
with my good-will.' There is Breetish ship loading at Tamatave now. If
you and you's friends mus' go, there be your chance, and I will send you
to Tamatave in palanquins. We all very sorry you go, for you was useful
to us, and you was be kind--to my mother!"
Of course Mark gladly availed himself of the opportunity, thankfully
accepted the king's offer, and went off to inform his comrades and make
preparation.
It was a sad occasion when they met in the house of their old guide
Ravonino, to spend the last evening with him and Rafaravavy, and
Laihova, and Ra-Ruth, Reni-Mamba and her husband, Voalavo, Soa, Totosy,
the Secretary, and other friends, but it was also a time of pleasant
communing about days that seemed so long past, although so recent. They
also communed of days to come, and especially of that great day of
reunion in the Better Land. And intensely earnest was the final prayer
of the native pastor Totosy, as he commended his friends to the loving
care of God.
Next day they set sail for the seaport town of Tamatave.
And here we might appropriately terminate our narrative, for the bright
days that had begun to dawn on Madagascar have never since been darkened
by persecution--though they have not been altogether cloudless or free
from the curse of war; for, with its enormous capacities and important
position, the island has long been a morsel, coveted by some of what men
style the "Great Powers."
But we may not close our tale without at least touching on one dark
spot, the contemplation of which cannot fail to grieve the heart of
every sincere Christian. Rakota, the gentle, humane, courageous Prince,
who had always favoured, and suffered hardship for, the cause of Christ,
who had shielded and saved many of the Christians at the risk of his own
life, and seemed to be--indeed was--a very pillar in the infant church,
Rakota fell into gross sin and ultimately perished by the assassin's
hand.
We have no right to judge him. Only this we know, that "the blood of
Jesus Christ cleanseth from _all_ sin;" and if his life and death throw
light upon any passage of Scripture, they seem to bring out in strong
relief the words, "Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he
fall."
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It was a bright breezy morning when our three heroes stood on the deck
of a homeward-bound vessel and gazed wistfully over the taffrail at the
fast-receding shore. When the island sank like a little cloud into the
horizon and disappeared, Mark and Ebony turned their eager eyes in the
direction of old England, as if they half expected that celebrated isle
of the west to appear! Possibly the one was thinking of a fair one with
golden hair and blue eyes and a rosebud mouth. It is not improbable
that the other was engaged in mental contemplation of a dark one with "a
flat nose, and a coal-scuttle mout', an' such eyes!" As for Hockins, he
stood with his sea-legs wide apart, his hands in his breeches pockets,
and his eyes frowning severely at the deck. Evidently his thoughts,
whether of past, present, or future, were too deep for utterance, for,
like his comrades, he maintained unbroken silence.
Leaving them thus in pensive meditation, we regretfully bid them--and
our readers--farewell!
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Note 1. Those who wish for fuller information will find it in such
works as _Madagascar and its People_, by James Sibree, Junior;
_Madagascar, its Missions and its Martyrs; The History of Madagascar_,
etcetera, by Reverend William Ellis; _Madagascar of To-day_, (a
threepenny volume), by G.A. Shaw, FZS, etcetera.