ise the household, for she was
naturally timid, soft-hearted, and meek, but she made no attempt to
conceal her opinions and her sympathy with the persecuted Christians.
She had even gone the length of interceding for them once or twice when
she found her mistress in an amiable mood, but the explosion of wrath
which resulted warned her not to presume again in that way.

For some time Ranavalona sat brooding over the mystery of that religion,
which, notwithstanding all her power and cruelty, she had, after so many
years of tyranny, been unable to suppress. Then she sent for
Rafaravavy.

The girl, who in a few minutes entered her presence, was possessed of no
ordinary beauty. Her delicate features and oval face were much lighter
in complexion than those of the other ladies of the court, resembling
rather those of a Spanish brunette than a Hova beauty. Her eyes were
large, soft, and lustrous; her nose was straight and thin, and her mouth
small, with an expression of habitual gravity which made her smile, when
it came, all the more attractive. Little wonder that poor Ravonino had
lost his heart to her, for, besides beauty of countenance, the girl was
endowed with a sylph-like form, a sprightly disposition, and the sweet
grace of humility.

"You have disobeyed me, Rafaravavy," said the Queen as she entered.

"Forgive me!" answered the girl in a low musical voice. "I did not
think my song of praise would reach your ear. It was meant only for my
God and Saviour."

"Is your God then deaf, that you must sing so loud?" asked the Queen,
sharply.

"He is not deaf, blessed be His name!" exclaimed the maiden, with
enthusiasm, "neither is His arm shortened that it cannot save. Oh! if
you--"

"Stop!" cried the angry Queen, "you have presumed to talk to me thus too
often. You deserve to die for singing psalms. Have you given up
praying since I forbade it?"

There was that in the voice of Ranavalona which alarmed the girl, and
caused her to tremble as she replied, with some hesitation, that she
still prayed.

Instead of giving way to another burst of passion the Queen adopted a
bantering tone, and said--

"Come, Rafaravavy, tell me what you pray for."

"I pray for the pardon of my sins."

"Is that all? Surely you pray for something more than that. Something
nice that you want very much."

"Yes," continued the girl, becoming somewhat pale, yet praying silently
for courage even while she spoke. "Yes, I pray for