Unexpected Deliverance and Several Surprises.  
At the time when Mamba started away on his expedition to Tamatave, Ravonino, as we have said, lay concealed in the forest, anxiously awaiting news from the town. At last the news came—the two white men and the negro had got involved in a row, and were in prison!
 
So said Laihova on entering the cave and seating himself, weary, worn, and dispirited, on a ledge of rock beside his friend, to whom he related all that had befallen.
 
“Give not way to despondency,” said Ravonino, though he could not smooth the lines of anxiety from his own brow. “Does not the Lord reign? Let the earth rejoice! No evil can befall unless permitted, and then it will surely work for good. Let us now consider what is to be done. But first, we will pray.”
 
In the gloom of the cavern the two men went down on their knees, and, in very brief but earnest sentences, made known their wants to their Creator.
 
“It is useless to remain here idle,” said the guide, as they resumed their seat on the ledge.
 
“It is useless to go into the town,” returned Laihova. “I am known now as one of those who aided Mamba to escape.”
 
“But I am not known—at least not in my present guise,” said Ravonino. “Have you seen Rafaravavy?”
 
“No; I tell you we had not been long in the town when this mischance befell.”
 
“Did not Mamba tell you why he has undertaken so long a journey?”
 
“He did not, but I can guess,” answered Laihova, with a slight smile. “The night before we left our friends in the cave in Betsilio-land I heard his mother urging him to accompany us to the capital and fetch her, if possible, a copy of the Word of God. She was joined in her persuasions by my sister Ramatoa, and you know he loves Ramatoa. I have no doubt that the two overcame his objections.”
 
“Do you know why he objected?” asked Ravonino.
 
“He said that he was afraid to quit his mother and the others at a time when she might sorely need his protection, but other motives may have influenced him.”
 
“If he said it he meant it,” returned the guide, with some decision, “for Mamba is open and true of heart. No doubt he had other motives, but these were secondary. God grant him success and safe deliverance from the hands of his enemies!”
 
“Amen!” responded Laihova.
 
For some time the two friends sat there in silence, meditating as to what they should do in the circumstances, for each felt that action of some sort was absolutely necessary.
 
“My friend,” said the guide at last, “it seems to me that the Lord requires me at this time to go with my life in my hand, and give it to Him if need be. I have led these Englishmen into danger. I must do my best to succour them. Rafaravavy also is in great danger of losing her life—for the Queen’s fondness for her may not last through the opposition to her will which she is sure to meet with. At all risks I will enter the town and try to meet with Rafaravavy. But you, my friend, have no need to run so great a risk. The Englishmen have no claim upon you. My sister Ra-Ruth, as well as the other banished ones, need your arm to defend them, all the more that Mamba has left for a time. I counsel you to return to the Betsilio country and leave me. There is no fear. I am in the hands of God.”
 
For a few moments Laihova was silent. Then he spoke, slowly. “No. I will not leave you. Are not our friends also in the hands of God? For them, too, there is no fear. At present they are far from danger and in safe hiding, for even the outlaws—the robbers who infest the forests—understand something of their case; they have sympathy and will not molest them. Besides all that, Ravoninohitriniony, is there not the Blood-covenant between you and me? No, I will not leave you! Where you go I will go, and if you die I will not live!”
 
Seeing that his friend’s mind was made up, the guide made no further effort to influence him, and both men prepared themselves to go to the city.
 
We return now to our friends Mark Breezy, John Hockins, and James Ginger, whom we left in the act of quitting their prison after being the means of obtaining some extension of mercy to an unfortunate sufferer whom they left behind them there.
 
The Interpreter led them up several steep streets, and finally brought them to a court-yard in which were several small houses. Into one of these he ushered them, having previously pointed out to them that the building occupied a prominent position not far from the great palace of the Queen.
 
“So—if you out goes—git losted—know how to finds you’self agin!”
 
“Das so,” said Ebony. “You’s a clibber man.”
 
“Now you stop,” continued the Interpreter, paying no attention to the remark, “for git some—some—vik—vik—vikles—eh?”
 
“Vikles!” repeated Mark, with a puzzled air.
 
“Yis—yis—vikles,” repeated the Interpreter, nodding his head, smiling, opening his mouth very wide, and pointing to it.
 
“P’r’aps he means victuals,” suggested Hockins.
 
“Yis—yis—jus’ so—vittles,” cried the Interpreter, eagerly, “wait for vittles. Now—good-boy—by-by!” he added, with a broad grin at his blunder, as he left the room and shut the door.
 
The three friends stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds in silence, looked at each other, and smiled dubiously.
 
“Let’s see if we really are free to go and come as we choose,” said Mark, suddenly stepping to the door and trying it. Sure enough it was open. They passed out and went a short distance along the street, in which only a few natives were moving about. These, strange to say, instead of gazing at them in idle curiosity, seemed to regard them with some show of respect.
 
“Hold on, sir,” said Hockins, coming to an abrupt halt, “you know that feller told us to wait for victuals, and I am uncommon disposed for them victuals; for, to say truth, the trifle of rice they gave us this mornin’ was barely enough to satisfy an average rat. Better come back an’ do as we’re bid. Obedience, you know, is the first law of natur’.”
 
“Das w’at I says too. Wait for de wittles.”
 
“Agreed,” said Mark, turning on his heel.
 
On reaching the house they found that two slaves had already begun preparations for the hoped-for feast. In a few minutes they had spread on the mat floor several dishes containing rice, mingled with bits of chicken and other meats, the smell of which was exceedingly appetising. There was plain beef also, and fowls, and cooked vegetables, and fruits of various kinds, some of which were familiar to them, but others were quite new.
 
Slaves being present, our three travellers did not give full and free expression to their feelings; but it was evident from the way that Hockins smacked his lips and Ebony rolled his tongue about, not to mention his eyes, and Mark pursed his mouth, that they were smitten with pleased anticipation, while the eyes of all three indicated considerable surprise!
 
There were no knives or forks—only horn spoons for the rice; but as each man carried a large clasp-knife in his pocket, the loss was not felt.
 
In any other circumstances the singularity and unexpected nature of this good treatment would have stirred up the fun of Ebony and the latent humour of Hockins, but they could not shake off the depression caused by the memory of what they had seen in the prison—the heavy iron collars and the cruel binding chains. They tried to put the best face possible on it, but after a few faint sallies relapsed into silence. This, however, did not prevent their eating a sufficiently hearty meal.
 
“There’s no sayin’ when we may git the chance of another,” was Hockins’s apologetic remark as he helped himself to another fowl.
 
“It is very mysterious that we should receive such treatment,” said Mark. “I can only account for it by supposing that our friend Ravèlo is an officer of some power. If so, it was doubly fortunate that we had the opportunity of doing him a good turn.”
 
“Now, you leave dem two drumsticks for me, ’Ockins,” said Ebony, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’ll do yourself a injury if you heat de whole ob ’im.”
 
“Well, I must confess to bein’ surprised summat,” said the seaman, referring to Mark’s observation, not to Ebony’s.
 
They were destined to receive some additional surprises before that day was over. The meal which they had been discussing was barely finished when their friend the Interpreter again entered and bade them follow him.
 
“Queen Ranavalona wish sees you,” he said.
 
“What! all on us?” exclaimed Hockins, with elevated eyebrows.
 
“Yis—all.”
 
“Oh! nonsense,” he cried, turning to Mark. “It must be you, doctor, she wants to see. What can she want with a or’nary seaman like me?”
 
“Or a extraor’nary nigger like me?” said Ebony, with a look of extreme contempt.
 
“You kin stop in house if you choose,” remarked the Interpreter, with a quiet grin, “but you heads be splitted if you do.”
 
“Then I think I’ll go,” said Hockins, quietly.
 
“Me too,” remarked the negro.
 
Accordingly they all went—with a slight qualm, however, for they felt slightly doubtful whether, under existing circumstances, they might not after all be going to execution.
 
The royal palaces, to which they were led, occupy a very conspicuous and commanding position on the summit of the hill, and stand at an elevation of more than 500 feet above the surrounding plains. They are conspicuously larger than any of the other houses in the city, are grouped together in a large court-yard, and number about a dozen houses—large and small. The chief palace, named Manjàka-Miàdana, is about 100 feet long by 80 broad, and 120 high to the apex of its lofty roof. A wide verandah, in three stories, runs all round it. All is painted white except the balustrade. The building next in size to this is the Silver House. On the eastern side of the court-yard are the palace gardens, and around it............