The chief, being a sympathetic as well as a hilarious soul, made no objection, but rather urged him to make haste.
Ravonino then turned to his white companions, who could, of course, only guess at the meaning of all that had been said, and explained to them the whole matter. They rose at once, and, having no preparations to make, professed to be ready to start there and then.
Now, while they were yet speaking, the festive party received another surprise, or alarm, which was even more exciting than the previous one.
A young man suddenly burst into the village with the announcement that a body of the Queen’s soldiers were close at hand. They had been sent off in pursuit of Razafil, with directions to scour the country, and bring in as many Christian fugitives as possible, and he—the young man—being a fast runner, had been sent in advance by some friends of the bard to warn him of his danger.
“I would not try to avoid them if I stood alone,” said Razafil, softly. “Should I shrink from dying for Jesus, after seeing my Raniva go to Him in a chariot of fire? But I stand not alone. My wife claims my support, and my little boy.”
While he was speaking, it was seen that a few of the hunters, as well as one or two inhabitants of the village, rose quietly and left the place. These were either professing or suspected Christians, who were anxious to make their escape from the danger that threatened.
After bidding Voalavo farewell, the guide and his friends left the village and struck into the woods. They were accompanied by the bard a short distance, until a point was reached where their routes diverged, and here, after a few words of brotherly sympathy and counsel from Ravonino, the bereaved man went on his solitary way, and the others directed their course towards the capital.
“Poor man,” said Ebony, who looked over his shoulder with profound sorrow in his earnest eyes as long as the tall figure of the bard was in sight, “I’s most awrful sorry for ’im. Why don’t dey hang Randalvalona, or shot ’er?”
“History teaches that it’s not always so easy as one might think to get rid of objectionable queens in that way,” said Mark.
“Hm! I’d teach history suffin diff’rent if I had my way,” returned the negro.