Presently the highest civil and military officers came forth, one of whom, in a loud sonorous voice, delivered the message of his terrible mistress.
After a number of complimentary and adulatory phrases to the Queen herself, and many ceremonial bowings towards the palace, as if she actually heard him, the messenger spoke as follows—
“I announce to you, O people, that I am not a Sovereign that deceives. I find that, in spite of my commands, many of my people revile the idols and treat divination as a trifle, and worship the Christians’ God, and pray, and baptize, and sing—which things I abhor. They are unlawful. I detest them, and they are not to be done, saith Ranavàlo-Manjàka. I will not suffer it. Those who dare to disobey my commands shall die. Now, I order that all who are guilty shall come in classes according to their offences, and accuse themselves of being baptized, of being members of the Church, of having taught slaves to read, and that all books shall be given up.”
As on a previous occasion, many came forward at once and accused themselves, or gave up their Bibles and Testaments; but, as before, others concealed their treasures and held their tongue, although it was evident that on this occasion the Queen uttered no vain threat, but was terribly in earnest.
The proclamation ended, the people dispersed, and Mark and his friends were returning to their quarters when they were arrested by a party of soldiers. As usual, their first impulse was to resist violently, but wisdom was given them in time, and they went quietly along. Of course Mark protested vehemently both in English and in broken Malagasy, but no attention whatever was paid to his words. They were led to a prison which they had not before seen. As they approached the door the sound of singing was heard. Another moment and they were thrust into the room whence the sounds issued, and the door was locked upon them.
At first they could only see dimly, the place was so dark; but in a few seconds, their eyes becoming accustomed to the gloom, they could see that a number of other prisoners—both men and women—were seated round the walls singing a hymn. When the hymn ceased an exclamation from a familiar voice made them turn round, and there they saw their friend Ravonino seated on the floor with his back against the wall and chained to Laihova and to the floor. Beside him were several well-remembered natives, and on the opposite side of the room, also chained, were the women of the party, among whom were Ramatoa, Ra-Ruth, Rafaravavy, her maid Sarah, and the poor mother of Mamba.
“Ravonino!” exclaimed Mark, in tones of profound sorrow, as he sat down beside his old guide, “I little thought to find you in such a strait.”
“Even so, sir,” returned the man in a gentle voice, “for so it seems good in His eyes! But still less did I expect to find you in prison—for the way they thrust you in shows me that you are no mere visitor. I fear me, the cruel woman has found out how kind you were in helping me.”
“But surely dar some hope for you! Dey nebber kill you all!” said the negro, waving his hand round as if to indicate the whole party.
“No hope, no hope,” returned Ravonino, sadly, “Not even for you, Ebony, because you are only a black man. But they won’t kill you, sir, or Hockins. They know better than to risk the consequences of putting a British subject to death. For the rest of us—our doom is sealed.”