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.