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There was no mistaking the nature of the music, for the Queen had long been familiar with the music of the psalms, in which the "praying people" were wont to sing praise to the name of Jesus. "Who sings?" she asked, with a fierce look at Rainiharo. The prime minister again gave vent to a very slight touch of sarcasm as he replied, "I think it is Rafaravavy."
She looked pointedly at Rainiharo as she spoke, and the prime minister winced, for he had lately discovered that his own son was among the number of the "praying people." Recovering himself in a moment, however, he merely said that he was not aware of any of his kindred having fallen away from the customs of their ancestors.
He found Rainiharo, with a tremendous frown on his face and deep lines of care on his brow, seated in front of our friend the Secretary, who had an open book on his knee. Three other officers of the palace sat beside them. These constituted a court of inquiry into the contents of the suspected books, and the Secretary, being the only literary character among them, was the appointed reader.
"Stop!" cried a man, rising in the midst of the crowd, "it may not be safe to bring out the Word just now." "Why not, my son?" asked the old man. "Are not all here to-night our friends?" "I think not," returned the man. "As I came along I saw one of the Queen's spies, who is well-known to me. He was walking with the nephew of our deadly foe Rainiharo, and Soa himself sits there!"
"Was that order given by the Queen?" demanded Mark, flushing with indignation, while a gush of anxiety almost choked him. "No, it was given by Rainiharo, who takes advantage of his position and the Queen's illness." Just then a step was heard at the further end of the passage, and Hater of Lies advanced towards them with his badge of office, the silver spear, in his hand.
But there are some things in the book which we cannot understand, so we have sent for you to explain it. Now," added Rainiharo, turning to the Secretary, "translate all that to the maker of physic and tell me what he has to answer."
That very day she had had an angry interview with her Prime Minister, Rainiharo, in reference to her only child Prince Rakota, who was a young man of mild gentle disposition, as kind to the Christians as his mother was cruel and unjust.
There is this to be said for her, that she would probably have liberated him long ago, but for the advice of her minister, Rainiharo, who was jealous of the young Englishman's growing popularity as well as a hater of his religion.
On reaching the tent on the north side they found Rainiharo doubled up on his mat and groaning in agony. "What's wrong?" demanded the doctor. "Everything!" replied the patient. "Describe your feelings," said the doctor. "I've I've got a red-hot stone," groaned Rainiharo, "somewhere in my inwards! Thorny shrubs are revolving in my stomach! Young crocodiles are masticating my oh!"
Rainiharo, the Prime Minister, on the contrary, was their bitter foe, and in his interview with the Queen above mentioned, had ventured to accuse the prince of aiding in the protection of those who practised the proscribed religion. The one redeeming point in the character of Ranavalona was her love for this son.
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