a malagasy garden party—the cloud grows blacker.

the garden party is by no means a novelty of the present day. in the early part of this century—if not much earlier—malagasy sovereigns seem to have been wont to treat their court and friends to this species of entertainment.

the order which the queen had given that her european visitors should attend upon her in the garden, was neither more nor less than an invitation to a garden party, or pic-nic, to be held the following day at one of her surburban retreats named anosy, about half-a-mile from the city. accordingly, early in the morning—for the malagasy are early risers—their friend the interpreter came to conduct them to the spot, with a gift of a striped lamba for each of the white men.

“why she not send one for me?” demanded ebony, pouting—and ebony’s pout was something to take note of!

“’cause you’re black and don’t need no clothing,” said hockins, awkwardly attempting to put the lamba on his broad shoulders.

“humph! if she knowed what splendid lobscouse an’ plum duff i kin make,” returned the negro, “ranny valony would hab sent me a silk lamba an’ made me her chief cook. hows’ever, dere’s a good time comin’. i s’pose i ain’t to go to the party?”

“yis—you muss go. all of you got to go. kill-deaded—if you don’t go.”

“i’m your man, den, for i don’t want to be deaded yet a while; moreover, i want to see de fun,” returned the negro.

meanwhile the interpreter showed them how to put on the lamba—with one end of it thrown over the left shoulder, like the spaniard’s cloak,—and then conducted them to the palace, where they found three palanquins—or chairs supported by two staves—awaiting them. getting into them they set off, preceded by the interpreter in a similar conveyance. ebony and his bearers brought up the rear.

the queen and her court had already started some time. our party soon reached the scene of festivities, at the south-east of the city. it was a charming spot, having large gardens laid out in the european style, with goodly trees overshadowing the pleasure-house of anosy, and an extensive lake. the house was on an island in the lake, and was reached by a narrow causeway.

at the entrance to the place two enormous letters, “r r,” formed in grass borders that surrounded flower-beds, indicated that radama rex, the first king of that name, had originated those gardens. and they did him credit; for he had made great exertions to accumulate there specimens of the most useful and remarkable trees and plants in the country—especially those that were of service in materia medica. some immense camphor-wood trees were among the most conspicuous, and there were several specimens of a graceful fan-palm, as well as clumps of the long-leaved ròfia. the lake was covered in part with a profusion of purple waterlilies, and was well stocked with gold-fish. in the garden and on the upper part of the grounds were luxuriant vines, besides figs, mangoes, pine-apples, and coffee-plants.

here, to the strains of an excellent band, hundreds of people, in white and striped lambas, and various gay costumes, were walking about enjoying themselves, conversing with animation, or consuming rice, chickens, and beef, on mats beneath the mango and fig-trees. elsewhere the more youthful and lively among them engaged in various games, such as racing, jumping, etcetera.

“come,” said their friend of the previous day—the secretary—to mark and his comrades, breaking in on their contemplation of the animated scene, “the queen wishes to see you.”

her majesty, who was dressed in a long robe of muslin, embroidered with gold, sat near the door of the garden-house, surrounded by her ladies, who all wore the simple but graceful native dress. a guard of soldiers stood near at hand.

the queen merely wished to ask a few ceremonial questions of her visitors. while she was engaged with hockins and the secretary, mark ventured to glance at the ladies of the court, among whom he observed one who made a deep impression on him. she wore, if possible, a simpler dress than any of her companions, and no ornaments whatever. her features were well formed, and her rather pensive countenance was very beautiful. when they were retiring from the presence of the queen, mark could not resist the temptation to ask the secretary who she was.

“that,” said he, “is our self-willed little christian, rafaravavy.”

“she does not look very self-willed,” returned mark.

“true, and she is not really so—only in the matter of religion. i fear we shall lose her ere long, for she minds not the queen, and no one who defies ranavalona lives long. but come, let us sit down under this mango tree and eat. you must be hungry.”

he led them as he spoke to a sequestered spot near a coppice which partially guarded them from public gaze on three sides, and on the fourth side afforded them a charming view of the gardens, the gay assemblage, and the country beyond.

at first both hockins and ebony hesitated to sit down to breakfast with so distinguished a person as an under-secretary of state.

“we ain’t used, you see, doctor,” observed the seaman in a low tone, “to feed wi’ the quality.”

“das so, massa,” chimed in ebony in the same tone; “wittles nebber taste so pleasant in de cabin as in de fo’c’s’l.”

“don’t object to anything,” replied mark, quickly, “just do as i do.”

“hall right, massa. neck or nuffin—i’m your man!”

as for the seaman, he obeyed without reply, and in a few minutes they were busy with the secretary over drumsticks and rice.

the free-and-easy sociability of that individual would have surprised them less if they had known that he had been specially commissioned by the queen to look well after them, and gather all the information they might possess about the fugitive christians who were hiding in the forests.

fortunately our young student was quick-witted. he soon perceived the drift of the secretary’s talk, and, without appearing to evade his questions, gave him such replies as conveyed to him no information whatever of the kind he desired. at the same time, he took occasion, when the secretary’s attention was attracted by something that was going on, to lay his finger on his lips and bestow a look of solemn warning on his comrades, the effect of which on their intelligent minds was to make the negro intensely stupid and the seaman miraculously ignorant!

now, while our friends are thus pleasantly engaged, we will return to rafaravavy, whom we left standing among the queen’s ladies.

of all the ladies there that little brunette was not only the best-looking, the sweetest, the most innocent, but also, strange to say, the funniest; by which we do not mean to say that she tried to be funny—far from it, but that she had the keenest perception of the ludicrous, and as her perceptions were quick, and little jokes usually struck her, in vulgar parlance, “all of a heap,” her little explosions of laughter were instantaneous and violently short-lived. yet her natural temperament was grave and earnest, and her habitual expression, as we have said, pensive.

indeed it would have been strange had it been otherwise, considering the times in which she lived, the many friends whom she had seen sacrificed by the violence of her royal mistress, and the terrible uncertainty that hung over her own fate.

after a time the queen dismissed some of her attendants to ramble about the grounds,—among them rafaravavy, who sauntered down one of the side-walks by herself.

she had not gone far when, on reaching a turn of the road where a small thicket of shrubs concealed her from the more public part of the garden, she heard her own name pronounced.

stopping abruptly, she listened with intense anxiety expressed on her countenance.

“rafaravavy!” repeated the voice again, “fear not!” next moment the bushes were turned aside, a man stepped on the path, and ravonino stood before her! he seized her in his arms, and printed a fervent kiss upon her lips.

“oh! samuel,” she said, using her lover’s christian name, which she naturally preferred, and speaking, of course, in her native tongue, “why did you come here? you know that it is death if you are caught.”

“i would risk more than death, if that were possible, to see you, rafaravavy. but i come to ask you to fly with me. our dear lord’s counsel is that when we are persecuted we should flee to a place of safety.”

“impossible!” said the girl, in a tone of decision that made her lover’s heart sink. “besides, i am not persecuted. the queen is fond of me, and bears much.”

“fond of you she may well be, my loved one, she cannot help that; but she is fonder of herself, and the moment you go beyond a certain point she will order you out to execution. has she not done the same sort of thing before? she is capable of doing it again. she will surely do it again. come, dearest! let us fly now—this moment. i have a lamba here which will conceal most of your dress. arrangements are made with some of our friends in the lord to aid us. bearers are ready. i will guide you to the caverns in the forest where my sister ra-ruth is longing to receive you, where many of your old friends are dwelling in security, where we worship god, and pray to jesus, and sing the sweet old hymns in peace. come, dear one! will you not come?”

it was evident that the intense earnestness of the lover was exerting powerful influence over the affectionate maiden, for she began to waver.

“oh! do not persuade me thus!” she said. “i know not what god would have me do. but the queen has been very kind to me in spite of my religion, and sometimes i have thought that she listens to my pleading. perhaps god may use me as the means of bringing her to jesus. think what that would be—not only to her own soul but to the multitudes who are now suffering in—”

at that moment footsteps were heard on the gravel walk. they were evidently approaching the spot where the lovers stood. before ravonino could make up his mind to drag her into the thicket by main force, rafaravavy had disengaged herself and bounded away. at the same moment ravonino glided into the shrubbery and disappeared.

a few seconds later and mark breezy stood on the spot they had quitted. he was alone.

“strange!” he muttered to himself, “i am almost certain that she took this path, and i fancy that the man’s voice sounded like that of ravonino. nothing more natural than that he should ferret her out. yet it seems to have been imagination.”

“it was not imagination,” said a rather stern voice at mark’s elbow. he turned quickly.

“i was sure of it!” he exclaimed.

“if you were so sure of it,” said the guide, with a touch of bitterness, “why did you interrupt us and scare the maiden away?”

“you do me wrong in your thoughts,” replied the student, flushing. “one of the queen’s secretaries is even at this moment coming along this track in company with hockins and ebony. while seated at breakfast i saw rafaravavy walk in this direction, and somehow i took it into my head that you would surely meet her here—i know not why i thought so, unless it be that in like circumstances i myself would have acted the same part—so i hastened on in advance to warn you. hush! do you not hear their steps?”

“forgive me,” said ravonino, extending his hand, and grasping that of his friend. then, speaking low and hurriedly, “you are in favour at court. will you befriend her?”

“i will. you may depend on me!”

there was no time for more. already it was almost too late, for the guide had barely disappeared in the thicket when his comrades and the secretary appeared.

“hallo! doctor,” exclaimed hockins, “was ye arter a pretty girl that you bolted so, all of a sudden?”

“yes, i was,” answered mark promptly. “i saw one of the queen’s ladies come in this direction and ran after her! i suppose there is no harm in that, mr secretary? you don’t forbid men to look at your women, do you, like the arabs?”

“certainly not,” replied the secretary, with a slight smile and a ceremonial bow.

“come, then, let us follow the track, we may yet meet her.”

so saying, mark led the way along the path where rafaravavy had vanished, not for the purpose of overtaking her, but in order to give his friend time and opportunity to get out of the thicket unperceived.

on the evening of that same day, after the garden festivities were over, queen ranavalona sat in her palace with a frown on her brow, for, despite her determination and frequent commands, the christians in the town still persisted in holding secret meetings for worship. those who knew her moods saw plainly that she was fanning the smouldering fires of anger, and that it needed but a small matter to cause them to burst out into a devouring flame.

while she was in this critical frame of mind an influential courtier appeared before her. he seemed to be greatly excited.

“madam,” he said, “i request that a bright and sharp spear may be brought to me!”

somewhat surprised at the nature of the request, the queen asked to know the reason.

“madam,” continued the courtier, “i cannot but see with grief the dishonour that is done, not only to our idols but to the memory of your own predecessors, by the doctrines of these foreigners. our ancient customs are being destroyed and the new faith is spreading on every hand. all this is but preparatory to the invasion of madagascar by europeans; and, as i would rather die than see my queen and country so disgraced, i ask for a spear to pierce my heart before the evil day arrives.”

this speech had a powerful effect on the queen. she began to regard christianity as not merely a sacrilege, but a political offence; for were not people learning to despise the idols of their forefathers and to cease praying to the royal ancestors by whom the kingdom had been established, and under whom the country had become great and powerful? might they not eventually despise herself and learn to treat their living sovereign with contempt?

for some time ranavalona remained silent, leaning her forehead on her hand. suddenly she looked up with a flushed countenance.

“it is true—all true,” she said. “when i was carried along in procession to-day did i not hear these christians singing one of their hated hymns? they will not cease till some of them lose their heads. have you got with you the formal accusation that was made before my chief judge yesterday?”

“no, madam, i have not.”

“go. fetch it and read it to me.”

the courtier bowed, left the apartment, and speedily returned with a paper containing the accusations referred to. unfolding it, he read as follows:—

“first. the christians are accused of despising the idols. second. they are always praying. third. they will not swear, but merely affirm. fourth. their women are chaste. fifth. they are of one mind with regard to their religion. sixth. they observe the sabbath as a sacred day.”

strange to say, this catalogue of so-called accusations deeply affected the queen with grief and rage.

“i swear,” she said, with flashing eyes and clenched hands, “that i will root out this religion of the europeans if it should cost the life of every christian in the land! go. leave me!”

for a fortnight subsequent to this the palace and court appeared as if in mourning for some public calamity. no band played; no amusements were allowed, and a dread of impending evil seemed to weigh upon the spirits of all classes. during this time, also, measures were taken to effect the final destruction, as far as possible, of all that had been done in the country by the teaching of the missionaries and their converts.

at last the storm burst. a kabàry, or immense general assembly of the nation, was called by proclamation at the capital. the people were only too well aware of what this signified to doubt that the queen was thoroughly in earnest and in one of her worst moods. with trembling hearts they hastened to obey the summons.