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.