“De young cannon!” panted Ebony.
“Yes, yes. You must fire it for me in about ten minutes or so, when the warriors seem to be getting knocked up. Follow me, Hockins, and keep close.”
Another minute and Rafaravavy, who was standing near the Queen’s chair, felt a touch on her arm. She looked round with a start, for, like every one else, she had been fascinated and quite engrossed by the scene before her.
A glance and motion of the hand from Mark sufficed. She glided gently backwards and reached the other side of the house unobserved. Here Mark grasped her hand and Hockins followed. They walked at first, but began to run on gaining the shrubbery, which was rendered doubly dark by contrast with the glare behind them.
In a couple of minutes they reached the thicket where the previous meeting had taken place. The over-arching foliage deepened the darkness so that it was impossible to distinguish features. A form was dimly seen, but it was only by the sound of the voice that they knew it to be Ravonino.
Few words were uttered. Every instant was precious.
“Farewell, dear friend,” said Ravonino, grasping Mark’s hand, “God grant that we may meet again in better times! Laihova waits for me beyond the garden—”
He stopped abruptly, seized Rafaravavy’s hand and glided with her noiselessly into the thicket, for at that moment another figure was seen to approach them. From his unusual size they knew him to be one of Ranavalona’s chief executioners. He was a cool-headed and suspicious man, a sort of natural detective, who always had his wits about him. Having observed several people gliding through the shrubbery he had quitted the sports and followed. To have been recognised by this official would have been fatal—at least to those plotters who did not take to flight. Hockins, who was prompt to conceive and act when danger pressed, at once stepped forward and gave the man of blood a right-hander on the top of the nose which instantly Romanised that feature and laid its owner on his back insensible.
At the same moment—as if the blow had been the touching of a secret spring—the whole garden was lighted up with a magnificent red glare, and they knew that Ebony had done his part and lighted the giant candle. The red glare lasted long enough to reveal the fact that Ravonino and Rafaravavy were gone, and that the man at their feet was indeed the executioner whom they had guessed him to be. Leaving him there they ran quickly back to the scene of festivities, hoping that their absence had not been observed. Before they had gone half-a-dozen steps there was an explosion like that of a big gun, a bomb went high into the air, and burst in a magnificent constellation of brilliant stars, mingled with fiery rain. The “oo!—oo!—oo!” cheers became vociferous at this, and were, if possible, still more enthusiastic when the red fire changed to a beautiful blue.
“Splendid!” exclaimed Mark, much satisfied with the result of his recent labours, “and it will keep going on for a considerable time yet.”