The Fugitives by Robert Michael Ballantyne (hardest books to read TXT) 📖

the Christians, he felt that through him he might influence her to agree to her lover's proposal.

Then his plan to effect the rescue of Mamba was gradually matured.

"Ebony," he exclaimed, suddenly, one afternoon when sitting at his table preparing some villainous compound for the Queen, "go down to the laboratory, boy, and fetch me some gunpowder, sulphur, saltpetre, and charcoal."

Mark's laboratory, by the way, contained not only the medicines which chanced to be in the capital at that time, but also a vast collection of miscellaneous articles and substances which, in the opinion of palace officials, could be classed, however remotely, with "doctor's stuffs."

"Them stuffs," remarked Hockins, who sat luxuriously in an arm-chair smoking a short pipe--for he had unfortunately obtained tobacco since arriving at the capital!--"Them stuffs are apt to cause surprisin' effects w'en properly mixed."

"Just so. That is my reason for sending for them. I shall create some surprising effects if my old cunning in pyrotechny has not forsaken me. When I was a school-boy, you must know, I was fond of dabbling in fireworks, and it strikes me that I could compound some things that would charm the Queen and astonish the natives."

"Massa," asked Ebony, powerful surprise expressed in his sable visage, while Mark spooned large quantities of the ingredients referred to into an earthenware dish, "is dem powders to be took inside arter bein' well shooken, or rubbed outside?"

"Whichever way you please, Ebony. Would you like to try?"

"No thankee, massa."

"Now, then, look here," said Mark, making some pencil notes on a sheet of paper, after arranging several plates in a row. "You and Hockins set to work and mix these in the exact proportions set down on this paper. I'd do it myself, but I'm due at the palace, and you know the Queen does not like to be kept waiting. Stick to the paper, exactly, and here you have an egg-cup, a table-spoon, and a tea-spoon to measure with. Put your pipe out, I advise you, Hockins, before beginning. If Rainiharo should call, tell him he will find me with the Queen. I don't like that Prime Minister. He's a prime rascal, I think, and eggs the Queen on when she would probably let things drop. He's always brooding and pondering, too, as if hatching mischief."

"If that's a sign of hatching mischief," said Hockins, with a short laugh, "the same thing may be said of yourself, doctor, for you've done little but brood and ponder for more nor a week past."

"True, I have been plotting; but many a man plots much without much resulting."

Hurrying away, Mark found the Secretary waiting for him to act as interpreter, for the Queen understood little or no English.

After the preliminary ceremonial salutations, the young doctor asked if her Majesty would honour the gardens with her presence the following day, hold a grand reception, and make arrangements to remain in Anosy till after dark.

Yes, the Queen was quite ready to do so, but why did her Court Physician make such a proposal? Had he some new surprise in store for her?

"I have," answered Mark. "In my country we make very grand displays with fire. But I have various little surprises and plots in store, which cannot be properly wrought out unless Ranavalona will consent to go to the gardens privately--that is to say, without public announcement, for that has much to do with the success of my scheme."

"It shall be done, though it is against my custom," said the Queen, with a good-natured nod, for she had begun to regard her young physician as an eccentric creature who needed and deserved encouragement in his amusing and harmless fancies.

Immediately after the audience, Mark and his sympathetic interpreter, the Secretary, obtained an interview with Rafaravavy. The doctor began abruptly.

"I am well acquainted with your lover, dear young lady." At this she pouted a little, blushed terribly, and drew her pretty figure to its full height--which was not great! "And," continued Mark, "I have been very deeply indebted to him."

Rafaravavy relaxed a little, and fixed her fine dark eyes on the youth searchingly, but said nothing.

"Now I know," Mark went on, pretending not to observe the maiden's varying moods, "that my friend loves you so profoundly--so deeply--that he will risk his life to see you, and if he is caught, you are well aware that in the present state of the Queen's mind the result would be his death--almost certainly, and perhaps you would die along with him. Therefore, if you get an opportunity soon you should agree to fly with him."

During the first part of this speech the young girl's face glowed with evident pleasure, but the last part was unfortunate. It did not suit the temper of one who was brave as she was beautiful.

"I know not, sir," she said, with flashing eyes, while the little figure drew up again, "what English girls may think or do, but Malagasy women are not afraid to die with those whom they love. Your advice may be kindly meant, but I doubt if it is wise. Besides, I am a servant of my Queen, and owe allegiance to her."

"Your Queen, mademoiselle, is a servant of the devil," said Mark, whose indignation was severely stirred. "And, Rafaravavy, do you not profess to be a servant of the Christians' God--the Almighty? Does not the Book state that it is impossible to serve _two_ masters?"

"Come, come!" cried the Secretary, in a sharp tone, after translating this faithfully, "it is time to go. Follow me!"

Mark's surprise at this abrupt termination of the interview was great, but as Rafaravavy retired hastily, he had no resource but to follow his friend.

"Why so sharp?" he asked, as they passed along the corridor.

"Because you have said enough," returned the Secretary, with a quiet smile. "You may understand your own women, no doubt, but not the Malagasy girls as well as I do. When a man has said _enough_ to a woman he should stop and let it simmer. All the rest that he would say she will say to herself--and say it much better, too! But tell me, when do you think Ravoninohitriniony will meet Rafaravavy?"

"I don't know. All I know is that a true lover is sure to manage a meeting soon--and somehow."

He was glad to be able to make this indefinite reply; for although he trusted the Secretary, and would have revealed his own affairs fully to him, he felt that he had no right to reveal the affairs of his friend to any one.

Before they reached the palace-yard a loud report was heard. The palace shook as with an earthquake. Loud cries of soldiery were heard without, and Mark's heart sank with an undefinable dread.

To account for this report we must go back a little. When Hockins and Ebony were left, as we have seen, to mix their "powders," the former, being a reckless man, forgot to put his pipe out, and Ebony being a careless man, (as regarded himself), did not observe the omission. The consequence was that the seaman kept on puffing and emitting sage reflections to his admiring friend while they mixed their compounds in concert.

"Hand me the powder, Ebony."

"Das good--ha! ha! das awrful good," cried the negro, referring to the latest sage reflection--as he pushed across the powder canister, which was a large one.

At that inauspicious moment a spark fell from the pipe! Next moment the door was burst open, the window blown out, Hockins was laid fiat on his back, while Ebony went head-over-heels upon the floor!

Slowly and with a dazed look the seaman raised himself on one elbow and looked round.

"Any--anything of ye left, boy?" he asked, quietly.

"I--I's not kite sure, 'Ockins," replied the negro, slowly passing his hand down one of his legs without rising from the floor. "'Ow does it feel wid _you_?"

"All right, I think," replied the seaman, rising and presenting a remarkable exhibition of singed beard and frizzled locks, "no bones broke, anyhow."

At that instant Mark rushed into the smoke-filled room in consternation, followed by the Secretary and a number of soldiers who formed the guard of the palace, and great was their surprise, as well as their satisfaction, to find that the two men had received no damage worth mentioning.

"Well, I _am_ thankful," exclaimed Mark, beginning to pick up the debris of plates and furniture.

"So am I," remarked the sailor, "thankful to think that I've got it over at last--so easy too!"

"Why, what do you mean?"

"I means, doctor, that I've gone the whole round o' human possibilities now--leastwise I think so--and am alive to tell it! I've bin shot, an' stabbed, an' drownded--all but--an' now I've bin blow'd up!"

"So's I, 'Ockins, so you needn't boast," remarked Ebony, as he tenderly felt the place where his wool ought to have been, but where only a few irregularly-shaped patches of scrub remained.

We need scarcely say that Mark Breezy did not allow this little _contretemps_ to interfere with his plans.

"You'll have to work all night, both of you--that's your punishment for disobeying orders--and without the solace of a pipe too," said Mark, when order was somewhat restored and work resumed. "The garden party, you know, is fixed for to-morrow, and it's as much as our heads are worth to disappoint the Queen of her expected amusements. Time, tide, and Ranavalona the First wait for no man! I've got to go out for an hour or so. When I return I'll show you how to make stars and crackers and red rain, etcetera."

"But I say, Doctor," asked Hockins, looking up from his work, "where are the cases to hold all this here stuff?"

"Time enough for that when we want 'em. I've got some fellows at work on small ones, and there's a big one that will open the Madagaskite eyes if there's virtue in saltpetre. It's made of--ah! here it comes," he added, as the door opened and two natives carried in a piece of cast-iron pipe about six feet long and four inches in diameter.

"The pistol-barrel of a giant," exclaimed the seaman.

"A young cannon!" said Ebony. "W'y, massa, you gwine to make a Roman candle ob _dat_?"

He turned for an answer, but Mark had hastily quitted the house.

Encountering the Secretary in the court-yard, he took his arm and said, "I want your help."

"Well, you shall have it. But you are so mys--mys--what is it--sterious about your leetil plans, that I fear my help is not useful."

"Oh! yes, it is, I want you to get me a paper from--I don't know who-- the proper officer, whoever he is, authorising me to take a gang of convicts--four will do--to work for me."

"Good, you shall have it," returned the Secretary, with a laugh. "I see you are going to give us big surprises to-morrow."

"You are right, I am," said Mark, as the Secretary left him to execute his mission.

Armed with an order, Mark left the palace and hurried through the steep narrow streets of the town, until he reached a piece of road that was being mended by four slaves in long chains. That morning Mark