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

of the hymn, which appropriately terminated in "Praise ye the Lord."

"But our retreat is no longer safe," said Ravonino, when the last echo of their thanksgiving had died away. "We must change our abode--and that without delay. Get ready. By the first light of morning I will lead you to a new home. These soldiers will not return, but they will tell what they have seen, and others less timorous will come here to search for us."

Immediately the people set about collecting together and packing up what may be termed their household goods, leaving the guide and their visitors to enjoy supper and conversation in their own corner of the cave.


CHAPTER SIX.


THE GUIDE BECOMES COMMUNICATIVE, AND TELLS OF TERRIBLE DOINGS.

During the progress of supper, which consisted of cold dried meat and rice, the quartette seated on the ferns in the corner of the cave were unusually silent. Mark Breezy and Ravonino continued to eat for some time without speaking a word. Ebony, although earnestly absorbed in victuals, rolled his eyes about as he looked from time to time at his companions with unwonted solemnity, and John Hockins frowned at his food, and shook his shaggy head with an air of dissatisfied perplexity.

"Ravonino," at length said the last, looking up, and using his grass pocket-handkerchief, "it seems to me, bein' a plain straight-for'ard sort o' seaman, that there's somethin' not exactly fair an' above-board in all them proceedin's. Of course it's not for me to say what a independent man should do or say; but don't you think that w'en a man like you professes to be honest, an' asks other men to trust him, he should at least explain _some_ o' the riddles that surround him? I'm a loyal man myself, an' I'll stand up for _my_ Queen an' country, no matter what may be the circumstances in w'ich I'm placed; so that w'en I sees another man admittin' that he's a outlaw, an' finds the soldiers of _his_ Queen a-huntin' all about the country arter him and his comrades-- seems to me there's a screw loose somewheres."

"Dat's _my_ sent'ments zactly," said the negro, with a decisive nod.

Mark took no notice of this speech, but silently continued his supper. For a few moments the guide did not speak or look up. Then, laying down his knife and clasping his hands over one of his knees, he looked earnestly into the seaman's face.

"You tell me you are loyal," he said.

Hockins nodded.

"If your queen," continued Ravonino, "were to tell you to give up the service of God and worship idols, would you do it?"

"Cer'nly not," replied the seaman, promptly, "for she has no right to rule over my soul. My duty to the King of Kings stands before my duty to the Queen of England."

Again the guide was silent for a few minutes. Then he said:--

"Hockins, by God's blessing you have saved the lives of all our party this day--at least it seemed so, for, another step, and that soldier would have discovered us if your little pipe had not stopped him. You are therefore entitled to expect some gratitude, and, from what I have seen of you and your comrades, I have reason to believe you will not betray us, even if you get the chance."

"Right you are, friend, I will never betray an honest man; an' I may speak for my comrades as well as self, for they're true-blue to the back-bone--"

"Furder nor dat," interposed Ebony, "troo-bloo to de marrow!"

"Don't you shove in your oar till you're ordered, you nigger! Well, as I was a-sayin', we'll never betray honest men, but I give you fair warnin' if you're _not_ honest, we'll have nothin' to do wi' your secrets, an' if our duty to God an' man requires us to go against you, we'll do it without flinchin'."

"So be it. I am satisfied," returned Ravonino, calmly. "I will tell you as much as I think you are entitled to know. It may have reached your ears, perhaps, that there has been terrible persecution in this island for many years."

Here Mark Breezy took up the conversation.

"No," said he, with something of a deprecatory air, "we did not know it. For my part I am ashamed to say so; but I will say in excuse that the British empire is widely extended in every quarter of the globe, and her missions are so numerous that average men can scarcely hope to keep up with the details of all of the persecutions that occur. Rumours, indeed, I have heard of doings in Madagascar that vie with the persecutions of the Scottish Covenanters; but more than this I know not, though of course there are men connected with our Missionary Societies-- and many people, no doubt, interested in missions--who know all about the persecutions in Madagascar. Is it in connection with this that you have been outlawed?"

"It is. Ranavalona, the blood-stained usurper, our present queen, is filled with such bitter hatred of Christianity that she has for many years persecuted the native Christians who have been taught by white missionaries from your land. Hundreds of men and women have been murdered by her orders because they refused to forsake Christ; others have been banished to regions so unhealthy that they have died, and many have been sold into slavery."

The eyes of the guide gleamed for a moment, and his stern countenance flushed as he thus referred to the sorrows of his people, but by a strong effort he controlled his feelings, and his countenance resumed its habitual quietude.

"My mother and my sister and I," he continued, "were sold into slavery. My mother was a native lady, high in station, and a member of the court of King Radama the First, who was very favourable to Missionaries. I was an infant at that time; my little sister was not born. My father was an English trader, skilled in many handicrafts, and a great favourite with the king, who fostered the Christian religion and helped those who came to teach us. Our teachers learned our language; taught us the love of God, and, through the power of the Holy Spirit, brought many of us to the Saviour. But they were persevering and wise as well as good. Having learned our language--in which my father helped them much--they taught us to read; translated many parts of the Word of God into our tongue; sent home for presses and types, and had these printed, as well as the _Pilgrim's Progress_ and other books.

"Peace, joy, and prosperity were spreading in our land. Idol-worship and cruel customs were being uprooted, and everything was going well when the king died--whether a Christian or not, who can tell? for, although favourable to, he never professed, Christianity. `The Lord knoweth them that are His!' The rightful heir to the throne, according to our customs, was Rakotobe--a good young man who had been taught by the missionaries, and was nephew to the king; but Ranavalona, one of the king's wives, resolved to seize the opportunity. A bold bad woman, with a powerful will and no principle, she carried her point by reckless bloodshed. There were men at court as bad as herself who agreed to aid her. When she boldly claimed the throne, four loyal nobles asserted the claim of Rakotobe. They were instantly speared in the palace. The rightful heir was not present. Soldiers were sent to his residence to seize and kill him, before he should hear of what was going on.

"Not content with shedding blood, the cruel monsters dug the poor youth's grave before his eyes. When they were thus engaged Rakotobe kneeled down to pray, and while he was in this position they speared him and cast him into his grave. Soon after the father and mother of Rakotobe were murdered--the last being starved to death. The brother of Radama was destroyed in like manner. He lingered eight days in agony before death came to his relief. Then Rakotobe's grandmother and other relations were slain by Ranavalona's orders, and thus the murderess waded through blood to the throne of Madagascar!

"Think you," continued the guide, with a passing gleam of the anger which he strove to restrain, "think you that I owe allegiance to _such_ a queen?"

"Truly ye do not," answered the seaman, stoutly. "My only wonder is that the people suffer her to reign."

Scarce heeding the reply the guide continued, with suppressed excitement, "but she did not rest content. It was in the year 1829 that she usurped the throne. Since then she has persecuted the Christians for more than a quarter of a century, and at times blood has flowed like water in our land. Bad as she is, however, she would have been worse but for her love to her son. Ay, the woman whose heart is a stone to most people is soft towards the young prince Rakota, in spite of the fact that this youth is favourable to the Christians and has often stood between them and his mother.

"About nine years after the queen's coronation my little sister was born, and was secretly baptised--the name of Ruth being given to her. It is our custom to prefix Ra to many names--so she is Ra-Ruth. Look at her!" He pointed to a group not far-off, where the delicate and graceful girl was busily assisting an elderly woman in her packing arrangements. "See you the lady beside her, with the grey hair and the sad worn face? That is my mother. I have said she was high at the Court of Radama the First. She was young then. I was born the year that Radama died. Ranavalona was fond of her, though she loved not her Christianity, so she continued at the palace. The Queen also became very fond of my little sister when she began to grow to womanhood, but Ra-Ruth could not return the affection of one whose hands were stained so deeply with Christian blood. I was an officer in the palace at the time, but would gladly have left, only my doing so might have roused the queen's wrath against my father and mother.

"At last the missionaries were ordered to quit the capital. In 1849 a great persecution took place. The queen became furious because her people would not cease to love and serve Jesus. She ordered many men and women to be speared and burned and tossed over precipices, but all without avail, because `greater is He who is for us than all who can be against us.'

"My father was away on a trading expedition at this time. One day in attempting to cross a lake he was drowned." The guide's voice deepened as he went on, "He was a good loving father to me. He taught me nearly all I know, and he was no mean scholar. He also sent me to the missionary schools. After his death the Queen hardened her heart against us; and as we refused to give up praying to God and singing His praise, we were cast out of the palace--my mother and sister and I, with several others, among whom were Laihova and his sister Ramatoa. We were sold into slavery in the public market.

"Our purchaser was