The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar by R. M. Ballantyne (top books to read txt) 📖

Chapter Twenty Six. Doctor Breezy prescribes for the Queen, and attains to Temporary and “Perfik F’licity.”

While these events were taking place in the forest, Queen Ranavalona was keeping her Court Physician and his comrades in a state of considerable uneasiness, not only with reference to the safety of their own heads, but because of her violent edicts regarding her Christian subjects.

She renewed her commands as to the necessity of every one coming forward, on pain of instant death in the event of disobedience, and accusing themselves, with the reiterated assurance that if they failed to comply and they were afterwards accused by others they should be subjected to the ordeal of the Tangena, and slain or reduced to perpetual slavery if found guilty.

The whole city was in a panic. No one felt safe. Under the influence of fear some accused themselves, expecting, no doubt, that their punishment would be lightened. Others remained quiet, hoping that they might escape detection, while many were accused by false friends as well as by enemies, and fell victims under the poison ordeal. Others, again, stood firm, and boldly proclaimed their faith in the Lord Jesus and their readiness to die if need be for His cause.

After the accusations, trials, and investigations, sentences were read which deprived four hundred officers and nobles of their honours, and levied fines on the remainder to the number of about two thousand. One would have thought that the mere necessity for such widespread punishment would have shown the Queen how deeply the new religion had taken root, and how hopeless it was to attempt its suppression, but she did not see it in that light. On the contrary, she issued a mandate requiring all books to be delivered up to her officers, and threatening death against any who should keep back or hide even a single leaf. She also commanded her subjects never again even to “think of the Christian lessons they had learned, but to blot them from their memories for ever!”

Among those who boldly held to their opinions was the Queen’s own son Rakota, who, however, as we have seen, did not run quite so much risk as others, owing to his mother’s affection for him. The Prime Minister’s son, also, and Prince Ramonja, made no effort to conceal their opinions, though they were wise enough to refrain from exasperating the angry Queen by asserting them openly.

One morning the Prime Minister sent a message to the Court Physician, requiring his immediate attendance at the palace. Mark was seated in his own room at the time, talking with Hockins and Ebony about the gloomy state of affairs. A slight feeling of dismay fluttered the heart of each when the message came, for death-warrants were much in the air at that time.

“Oh, massa, p’r’aps dey’re a-goin’ to kill you!” was the negro’s comforting suggestion.

“More likely they want him to cure the Queen,” said Hockins.

“Couldn’t you, massa,” whispered Ebony, with a terribly solemn countenance, “mix a spoonful—a bery small spoonful—ob prussic acid, or creosote, or suffin ob dat sort, wid ’er physic?”

Mark laughed, and shook his head as he went out.

He found Rainiharo, with a tremendous frown on his face and deep lines of care on his brow, seated in front of our friend the Secretary, who had an open book on his knee. Three other officers of the palace sat beside them. These constituted a court of inquiry into the contents of the suspected books, and the Secretary, being the only literary character among them, was the appointed reader.

“Come here. Sit down,” said Rainiharo, sternly pointing to a seat; “we want you to explain your books. The Queen commands us to examine them, and, if we find anything contrary to her wishes in them, to condemn them to the flames. But it seems to us that there is nothing in them but rubbish which we cannot understand.”

Strange, is it not, that in barbaric as well as in civilised lands, people are apt to regard as rubbish that which they do not understand?

So thought the Court Physician, but he wisely held his tongue and sat down.

“This book,” said the Prime Minister, pointing with a look of mingled contempt and exasperation to the volume on the Secretary’s knee, “is worse than the last. The one we condemned yesterday was what you call your Bible. We began with it because it was the biggest book. Being practical men we began at the beginning, intending to go straight through and give it a fair hearing. We began at Gen—Gen—what was it?”

“Genesis,” answered the Secretary.

“Genzis—yes. Well, we found nothing to object to in the first verse, but in the second—the very second—we found the word ‘darkness.’ This was sufficient! Queen Ranavalona does not like darkness, so we condemned it at once—unanimously—for we could not for a moment tolerate anything with darkness in it.”

Mark felt an almost irresistible desire to laugh outright, but as the gratification of that desire might have cost him his head he did resist it successfully.

“Now,” continued the Prime Minister, with a darker frown, “we have got to the Pil—Pil—what is it?”

“Pilgrim’s Progress,” answered the Secretary. “Just so—the Pilgim’s Progress. Well, we agreed that we would give the Pil—Pilgim’s Progress a better chance, so we opened it, as it were, anyhow, and what do we come on—the very first thing—but a man named Obstinate! Now, if there is one thing that the Queen hates more than another it is an obstinate man. She cannot abide obstinate men. In fact, she has none such about her, for the few men of that sort that have turned up now and then have invariably lost their heads. But we wanted to be fair, so we read on, and what do we find as one of the first things that Obstinate says? He says, ‘Tush! away with your book!’ Now, if the man himself condemns the book, is our Queen likely to spare it? But there are some things in the book which we cannot understand, so we have sent for you to explain it. Now,” added Rainiharo, turning to the Secretary, “translate all that to the maker of physic and tell me what he has to answer.”

It was a strange and difficult duty that our young student was thus unexpectedly and suddenly called to perform, and never before had he felt so deeply the difference between knowing a subject and expounding it. There was no escape, however, from the situation. He was not only bound by fear of his life, but by Scripture itself, “to give a reason of the hope that was in him,” and he rose to the occasion with vigour, praying, mentally, for guidance, and also blessing his mother for having subjected him in childhood—much against his will!—to a pretty stiff and systematic training in the truths of Scripture as well as in the story of the Pilgrim’s Progress.

But no exposition that he could give sufficed to affect the foregone conclusion that both the Bible and the Pilgrim, containing as they did matter that was offensive to the Queen, were worthy of condemnation, and, therefore, doomed to the flames.

Having settled this knotty point in a statesmanlike manner, Rainiharo bade Mark and the Secretary remain with him, and dismissed his three colleagues.

“You see,” he said, after some moments of anxious thought, “although I agree with the Queen in her desire to stamp out the Christian religion, I have no desire that my son and my nephew should be stamped out along with it; therefore I wish to have your assistance, doctor, in turning the mind of Ranavalona away from persecution to some extent for in her present mood she is dangerous alike to friend and foe. Indeed I would not give much for your own life if she becomes more violent. How is this to be done, think you?”

The question was indeed a puzzler, for it amounted to this—

“How are we to manage a furious, blood-thirsty woman with the reins loose on her neck and the bit fast in her teeth?”

“I know not,” said Mark at last, “but I will think the matter over and talk with you again.”

“If I may be allowed to speak,” said the Secretary.

“You are allowed,” returned the Premier.

“Then I would advise that the Queen should arrange a grand journey—a procession—all over the country, with thousands of her soldiers. This will let her have plenty of fresh air and exercise, change of scene, and excitement, and will give her something to do till her blood cools. At the same time it will show the people her great power and perhaps induce them to be cautious how they resist her will.”

“The idea is good,” said Mark, with animation, “so good that I would advise its being carried out immediately—even before another week passes.”

Rainiharo shook his head. “Impossible. There is to be a great bull-fight this week, and you know Ranavalona will allow nothing to interfere with that. Besides, it takes time to get up such an expedition as you suggest. However, I like the notion well. Go. I will think over it and see you again.”

The bull-fighting to which the Premier referred was a favourite amusement with this blood-thirsty woman, and the spectacle usually took place in the royal court-yard. Rainiharo was right when he said the Queen would not forego it, but she was so pleased with the plan of a royal progress through the country that she gave orders to make ready for it at once in an extensive scale.

“You will of course accompany me,” she said to Mark, when he was summoned to a subsequent audience, “I may be ill, or my bearers may fall and I may be injured.”

“Certainly,” he replied, “nothing would afford the Court Physician greater pleasure than to attend upon her Majesty on such an expedition. But I would ask a favour,” continued Mark. “May my black servant accompany me? He is very useful in assisting me with my medicines, and—”

“Yes, yes,” interrupted the Queen, “let him go with you by all means. He shall have bearers if you choose. And take yon other man also—with his music. I love his little pipe!”

In some excitement Mark went off to tell his comrades the news—which Hockins received with a grunt of satisfaction, and the negro with a burst of joy. Indeed the anxieties and worries they had recently experienced in the city, coupled with the tyranny and bloodshed which they witnessed, had so depressed the three friends that the mere idea of getting once again into the fresh free open plains and forests afforded them pleasure somewhat akin to that of the school-boy when he obtains an unexpected holiday.

Great was the excitement all over the country when the Queen’s intention was made known. The idea was not indeed a novelty. Malagasy sovereigns had been in the habit of making such progresses from time to time in former years. The wise King Radama the First frequently went on hunting expeditions with more or less of display. But knowing as they did, only too well, the cruel character of Ranavalona the First, the people feared that the desire to terrify and suppress had more to do with the event than pleasure