“Hush! never mind! Follow me!” said Mark, in a peremptory whisper.
Another moment and the sweet tones of the flageolet silenced the noise of the excited throng, as Hockins stood before the Queen and played one of the sweetest of Scottish songs.
Mark placed Ebony behind his comrade, made him hold up the Roman candles, quietly lighted them both, and retired. Thus Hockins, much to his own surprise, found himself, in the midst of spouting fire, producing the melodious notes of “Afton Water!”
When the little candles exploded, our Director-General advanced to the royal chair and expressed a hope that the performances had given satisfaction.
This the Secretary—ever-ready in time of need—translated, and returned the answer that the Queen was charmed, after which the proceedings terminated, and Ranavalona returned to her palace to dream, no doubt, of fireworks and music instead of martyrdoms.
So engrossed was the whole Court with the exciting and singular events of the day that no one noticed the absence of Rafaravavy, and, happily, the Queen did not happen to require her attendance that night.
Even those who were in closest proximity to the fugitive’s own room were so taken up with what they had seen that they either did not think of her, or supposed that fatigue had induced her to retire early.
Thus it came to pass that when her flight was discovered on the following day, Rafaravavy, carried by strong and willing bearers, and guarded by her devoted Ravonino and his faithful friend Laihova, was being swiftly borne over mountain and plain to the forest stronghold in Betsilio-land.