“Faithful, even unto death,” said the guide, with a look and tone in which pathos and triumph were strangely blended.
“She has not yet been tried to that extent, but if she is, God will enable her to stand firm,” said Fisatra, whose grave child-like sincerity, when talking of religious subjects, was not less impulsively honest and natural than were the outbursts of his fun when another humour stirred his feelings.
The “rock” to which he alluded was a frightful precipice at one side of the city from which criminals were usually hurled—a spot which is hallowed by the blood of many Christian martyrs who perished there during the long reign of that tyrant queen Ranavalona.
“Has then the queen forbidden the Christians to pray?” asked Ravonino.
“Have you not heard?—but of course you have not, being an outlaw and having only just returned. Recently a very bad fit has come over the Queen. You know that for some years past there have been a few French people living in Antananarivo, who by their knowledge and skill in mechanics and mercantile matters have made themselves useful to our government. These men lately tried to dethrone the Queen, on pretence of delivering the country from her cruelties, and establishing a ‘French Protectorate.’ They gained over some of our chief men, collected in one of their houses a large quantity of weapons and ammunition, and had even fixed the night when the palace was to be invaded, the Queen seized, and the Protectorate set up. Fortunately the plot came to my knowledge. I say fortunately, because a bad queen is better than a French Protectorate, for the first will die, but the latter might never end! Well, I at once informed the Queen, who had the conspirators seized and banished from the country for ever. Among them were a Roman Catholic lady and two Jesuits. The anger of the Queen was of course very great, and she has had, as I have said, a very bad fit against the Christians; for, as these unprincipled conspirators have the name though none of the reality of Christians, she naturally mixed us all up together—and I know not what the end will be, but I have much fear, because the Queen is very angry.”
“Has she done nothing yet?” asked Ravonino.
“Nothing—except threaten and fume. But when the black cloud is overhead, and muttering thunder is heard, one knows too well what to expect—especially when one has been exposed to the storm in former years.”
“The sun is shining behind the black cloud and it will break through when the Master wills,” said Laihova, joining in the conversation for the first time that evening, and looking earnestly at his friend Ravonino, as if the words were meant for his ear alone—as indeed they were.
“Thanks, thanks, my friend, for the comforting words,” said Ravonino, “and I take shame to myself that my faith is so weak.”
“You will spend the night with me?” said their host to the guide.