We received all this intelligence partly, as I have stated, through confidential slaves of the prince, partly from the few friends who, contrary to expectation, have remained true to us.
July 17. Our captivity had already lasted thirteen long days--for thirteen long days we had lived in the most trying suspense as to our impending fate, expecting every moment to hear some fatal news, and alarmed day and night at every slight noise. It was a terrible time.
This morning I was sitting at my writing-table; I had just put down my pen, and was thinking that, after the last kabar, the queen must at least have come to some decision, when suddenly I heard an unusual stir in the court-yard. I was hastily quitting my room, the windows of which were in the opposite direction, to see what was the matter, when Mr. Laborde came to meet me with the announcement that a great kabar was being held in the court-yard, and that we Europeans were summoned to be present thereat.
We went accordingly, and found more than a hundred persons--judges, nobles, and officers--sitting in a large half circle on benches and chairs, and some on the ground; behind them stood a number of soldiers. One of the officers received us, and made us sit down opposite the judges. These judges were shrouded in long simbus; their glances rested gloomily and gravely upon us, and for a considerable time there was deep silence. I confess to having felt somewhat alarmed, and whispered to Mr. Laborde, “I think our last hour has come!” His reply was, “I am prepared for every thing.”
At length one of the ministers or judges rose, and in sepulchral tones, embellished with a multitude of high-sounding epithets, he spoke somewhat to the following effect, telling us:
“The people had heard that we were Republicans, and that we had come to Madagascar with the intention of introducing a similar form of government here; that we intended to overturn the throne of their beloved ruler, to give the people equal rights with the nobility, and to abolish slavery; also, that we had had several interviews with the Christians, a sect equally obnoxious to the queen and the people, and had exhorted them to hold fast to their faith, and to expect speedy succor. These treasonable proceedings,” he continued, “had so greatly exasperated the natives against us, that the queen had been compelled to treat us as prisoners as a protection against the popular indignation. The whole population of Tananariva was clamoring for our death; but as the queen had never yet deprived a white person of life, she would abstain in this instance also, though the crimes we had committed could fully have justified her in such a course; in her magnanimity and mercy she had accordingly decided to limit our punishment to perpetual banishment from her territories.