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The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar Part 45

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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, pa.s.sed 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 n.o.ble 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.sa.s.sins 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 G.o.d," said the Secretary.

Rakota looked pleased with the reply. "I want you," he said, "to stand in the pa.s.sage here, till Rambosalama appears. He is sure to pa.s.s, being now in the death-chamber, to which I return speedily. His followers will be in force in the palace-yard--I hear the mult.i.tudes a.s.sembling even now. When he pa.s.ses 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 friends.h.i.+p.

Meanwhile the mult.i.tudes, 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 pa.s.sage 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' n.o.body 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 mult.i.tude, and, amid demonstrations of wildest joy, alike from soldiers and people, proclaimed Rakota King of Madagascar, under the t.i.tle 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 n.o.bles.

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, a.s.sured 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.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE LAST.

The vigour with which Prince Rakota put down the attempt at usurpation was followed by characteristic deeds of leniency and kindness. Instead of taking the usual method of savage and semi-civilised rulers to crush rebellion, he merely banished Rambosalama from the capital, and confined him in a residence of his own in the country; but no fetters were put on his limbs, and his wealth was not forfeited, nor was he forbidden to communicate with his friends.

Moreover, before the sun of that day in 1861 had set, the new King caused it to be proclaimed far and wide that all his subjects might depend upon receiving equal protection; that every man was free to wors.h.i.+p G.o.d according to the dictates of his own conscience; that the prison-doors should be thrown open to those who had been condemned for conscience sake, and their fetters knocked off. He also sent officers to announce to those who had been banished to the pestilential districts that the day of deliverance had come.

To many of these last, of course, the good news came too late for this life. Disease, and hard labour and cruel fetters, had done their work; but the deliverance that came to these was grander and more glorious than the mere removal of earthly chains and pains.

It was a glad day for Madagascar, and the people of the capital were wild with joy, for condemned ones who had long been given up as lost, because enslaved or imprisoned for life, were suddenly restored to family and friends, while others could entertain the hope that those who had been long banished would speedily return to them. Many a house in the city resounded that day with hymns of praise and thanksgiving that the tyrant Queen was dead, and that the gentle Prince was crowned.

But the change did not bring equal joy to all. Some there were whose smitten hearts could not recover from the crus.h.i.+ng blows they had sustained when the news of loved ones having perished in exile had been brought to them--though even these felt an impulse of pleasure from Christian sympathy with the joy of their more fortunate friends.

Among these last was poor Reni-Mamba. She, being very meek and submissive, had tried hard to join in the prayer and praise; but her voice was choked when she attempted to speak, and it quavered sadly when she tried to sing.

"Oh! if it had only pleased G.o.d to spare thee, Mamba--thou crumb of my life!--my dear, my only son!" She broke out thus one day when the sympathetic Ra-Ruth sought to comfort her. "I was beginning to get over the loss of his father--it was so many years ago that they took him from me! and as my boy grew up, the likeness to my Andrianivo was so strong that I used to try to think it was himself; but--now--both--"

"Are with the Lord, which is far better," said Ra-Ruth, tenderly laying her hand on Reni's arm.

"You are young to give such comfort," returned Reni, with a sad smile.

"It is not I who give it, but the Lord," returned Ra-Ruth. "And you forget, mother, that I am old in experience. When I stood on the edge of the Rock of Hurling, that awful day, and saw the dear ones tossed over one by one, I think that many years pa.s.sed over my head!"

"True--true," returned the other, "I am a selfish old woman--forgetting others when I think so much of myself. Come--let us go to the meeting.

You know that the congregation a.s.sembles to-day for the first time after many, many, years--so many!"

"Yes, mother, I know it. Indeed I came here partly to ask you to go with me. And they say that Totosy, the great preacher, is to speak to us."

Many others besides these two wended their way to the meeting-house that day. Among them was a group in which the reader is perhaps interested.

It consisted of Mark Breezy, John Hockins, Ebony Ginger, Samuel Ravoninohitriniony, Laihova, and Voalavo.

"Well now, this is the queerest go-to-meetin' that I've had to do with since I was a babby," remarked Hockins, as he looked from side to side upon the varied crowd of men and women, black, brown, and yellow, rich and poor, n.o.ble and slave, who were joyfully and noisily thronging to the house of G.o.d!

"Das true,--an' look dar!" said Ebony, pointing to a young woman who was standing as if thunder-struck before a worn-out, feeble, white-haired man in tattered garments, with a heavy iron collar on his neck.

Recovering from her surprise, the young woman uttered the word "Father"

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The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar Part 45 summary

You're reading The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): R. M. Ballantyne. Already has 560 views.

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