Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar by R. M. Ballantyne (top books to read txt) 📖
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar by R. M. Ballantyne (top books to read txt) 📖». Author R. M. Ballantyne
It was evident that the intense earnestness of the lover was exerting powerful influence over the affectionate maiden, for she began to waver.
“Oh! do not persuade me thus!” she said. “I know not what God would have me do. But the Queen has been very kind to me in spite of my religion, and sometimes I have thought that she listens to my pleading. Perhaps God may use me as the means of bringing her to Jesus. Think what that would be—not only to her own soul but to the multitudes who are now suffering in—”
At that moment footsteps were heard on the gravel walk. They were evidently approaching the spot where the lovers stood. Before Ravonino could make up his mind to drag her into the thicket by main force, Rafaravavy had disengaged herself and bounded away. At the same moment Ravonino glided into the shrubbery and disappeared.
A few seconds later and Mark Breezy stood on the spot they had quitted. He was alone.
“Strange!” he muttered to himself, “I am almost certain that she took this path, and I fancy that the man’s voice sounded like that of Ravonino. Nothing more natural than that he should ferret her out. Yet it seems to have been imagination.”
“It was not imagination,” said a rather stern voice at Mark’s elbow. He turned quickly.
“I was sure of it!” he exclaimed.
“If you were so sure of it,” said the guide, with a touch of bitterness, “why did you interrupt us and scare the maiden away?”
“You do me wrong in your thoughts,” replied the student, flushing. “One of the Queen’s secretaries is even at this moment coming along this track in company with Hockins and Ebony. While seated at breakfast I saw Rafaravavy walk in this direction, and somehow I took it into my head that you would surely meet her here—I know not why I thought so, unless it be that in like circumstances I myself would have acted the same part—so I hastened on in advance to warn you. Hush! do you not hear their steps?”
“Forgive me,” said Ravonino, extending his hand, and grasping that of his friend. Then, speaking low and hurriedly, “You are in favour at Court. Will you befriend her?”
“I will. You may depend on me!”
There was no time for more. Already it was almost too late, for the guide had barely disappeared in the thicket when his comrades and the Secretary appeared.
“Hallo! doctor,” exclaimed Hockins, “was ye arter a pretty girl that you bolted so, all of a sudden?”
“Yes, I was,” answered Mark promptly. “I saw one of the Queen’s ladies come in this direction and ran after her! I suppose there is no harm in that, Mr Secretary? You don’t forbid men to look at your women, do you, like the Arabs?”
“Certainly not,” replied the Secretary, with a slight smile and a ceremonial bow.
“Come, then, let us follow the track, we may yet meet her.”
So saying, Mark led the way along the path where Rafaravavy had vanished, not for the purpose of overtaking her, but in order to give his friend time and opportunity to get out of the thicket unperceived.
On the evening of that same day, after the garden festivities were over, Queen Ranavalona sat in her palace with a frown on her brow, for, despite her determination and frequent commands, the Christians in the town still persisted in holding secret meetings for worship. Those who knew her moods saw plainly that she was fanning the smouldering fires of anger, and that it needed but a small matter to cause them to burst out into a devouring flame.
While she was in this critical frame of mind an influential courtier appeared before her. He seemed to be greatly excited.
“Madam,” he said, “I request that a bright and sharp spear may be brought to me!”
Somewhat surprised at the nature of the request, the Queen asked to know the reason.
“Madam,” continued the courtier, “I cannot but see with grief the dishonour that is done, not only to our idols but to the memory of your own predecessors, by the doctrines of these foreigners. Our ancient customs are being destroyed and the new faith is spreading on every hand. All this is but preparatory to the invasion of Madagascar by Europeans; and, as I would rather die than see my Queen and country so disgraced, I ask for a spear to pierce my heart before the evil day arrives.”
This speech had a powerful effect on the Queen. She began to regard Christianity as not merely a sacrilege, but a political offence; for were not people learning to despise the idols of their forefathers and to cease praying to the royal ancestors by whom the kingdom had been established, and under whom the country had become great and powerful? Might they not eventually despise herself and learn to treat their living sovereign with contempt?
For some time Ranavalona remained silent, leaning her forehead on her hand. Suddenly she looked up with a flushed countenance.
“It is true—all true,” she said. “When I was carried along in procession to-day did I not hear these Christians singing one of their hated hymns? They will not cease till some of them lose their heads. Have you got with you the formal accusation that was made before my chief judge yesterday?”
“No, madam, I have not.”
“Go. Fetch it and read it to me.”
The courtier bowed, left the apartment, and speedily returned with a paper containing the accusations referred to. Unfolding it, he read as follows:—
“First. The Christians are accused of despising the idols. Second. They are always praying. Third. They will not swear, but merely affirm. Fourth. Their women are chaste. Fifth. They are of one mind with regard to their religion. Sixth. They observe the Sabbath as a sacred day.”
Strange to say, this catalogue of so-called accusations deeply affected the queen with grief and rage.
“I swear,” she said, with flashing eyes and clenched hands, “that I will root out this religion of the Europeans if it should cost the life of every Christian in the land! Go. Leave me!”
For a fortnight subsequent to this the palace and Court appeared as if in mourning for some public calamity. No band played; no amusements were allowed, and a dread of impending evil seemed to weigh upon the spirits of all classes. During this time, also, measures were taken to effect the final destruction, as far as possible, of all that had been done in the country by the teaching of the missionaries and their converts.
At last the storm burst. A Kabàry, or immense general assembly of the nation, was called by proclamation at the capital. The people were only too well aware of what this signified to doubt that the Queen was thoroughly in earnest and in one of her worst moods. With trembling hearts they hastened to obey the summons.
No rank or age was exempt from attendance at the great assembly. Soldiers were sent about the city and suburbs to drive the people towards the place of assembly near the palace, and the living stream continued to pour onwards until many thousand souls were gathered together at Imàhamàsina.
Here a body of troops fifteen thousand strong was posted, and in the earlier part of the day the cannon along the heights of the city thundered out a salute to inspire the people with awe and respect for the royal authority. The highest civil and military officers were there in their varied and gay trappings, but Ranavalona herself did not appear in person. Her message was conveyed to the people by one of the chief officers of state. It was interspersed here and there with the various titles of the Queen, and was to the following effect:—
“I announce to you, oh ye people! I am not a sovereign that deceives. I therefore tell to you what I purpose to do, and how I shall govern you. Who, then, is that man who would change the customs of our ancestors and the twelve sovereigns in this country? To whom has the kingdom been left by inheritance, by Impóin, Imérina, and Radama, except to me? If any, then, would change the customs of our ancestors, I abhor that, saith Rabòdon-Andrian-Impóin-Imérina.”
After a good deal more to much the same effect, the message went on to say:—
“As to baptisms, societies, places of worship distinct from schools, and the observance of the Sabbath, how many rulers are there in the land? Is it not I alone that rule? These things are not to be done; they are unlawful in my country, saith Ranavàlo-manjàka, for they are not the customs of our ancestors; and I do not change their customs, excepting as to things alone that improve my country. And then, in your worship, you say ‘Believe!’ ‘Follow the Christian customs!’ and thus you change the customs of the ancestors, for you do not invoke all that is sacred in heaven and earth, and all that is sacred in the twelve sovereigns and the idols. And is not this changing the customs of the ancestors? I detest that; and I tell you plainly that such things shall not be done in my country, saith Ranavàlo-manjàka.
“Now I decree that all Bibles and books of the new religion shall be delivered up to be destroyed, that all who are guilty shall come in classes, according to the nature of their offences, and accuse themselves of having been baptized, of being members of the church, of having taught slaves to read—all shall come to the officers and confess; but those who conceal their offence and are accused by others shall be subjected to the ordeal of the tangena, and those who resist my commands shall die, saith Ranavàlo-manjàka.”
This message was no idle threat. The people were well aware of that, and the city was filled with weeping and consternation.
It was while things were in this state that Mamba arrived at Antananarivo with his precious New Testament and Psalms in the folds of his lamba. Although well aware of what had taken place, he recklessly visited his friends in the city. From them he learned more particulars, and saw, when too late, that it would be impossible for him now to pass out of the gates with the Testament on his person, as the guards had been cautioned to search every one whom they had the slightest reason to suspect.
Hearing of the sudden exaltation of his English friends, he formed the wise resolution to place his treasure in their hands.
Boldness is often successful where timidity would fail. Without hesitation, or even consultation with his friends, Mamba went straight to the palace and demanded permission to visit the Maker of Medicine. He was allowed to pass and conducted by an official to the quarters of Mark Breezy, who was seated with Hockins and Ebony at the time.
Great was their surprise at seeing their friend.
“Why, Mamba! I thought you had gone to Tamatave?” said Mark, shaking hands heartily with him.
“Yis—yis—I hoed,” said Mamba, and then endeavoured to tell something of his doings in English; but his knowledge of that language was so very imperfect that they could make nothing of it. They understood him, however, when he cautiously and lovingly drew the Testament from its hiding-place and gave it into Mark’s hands.
“What am I to do with it, my poor friend?” said Mark. “I know that you have no chance of retaining it, after the decree that has just been
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