ONE day a strange prisoner was brought into the courtyard of the prison. A Court favorite had fallen into disgrace with its royal master, though I do not think for any fault of its own, and was condemned to a cruel lingering death.
But Violet looks quite in a puzzle, and Daisy says, "She cannot even guess what I mean;" so I must begin my story at the beginning, and then I think you will all understand.
Some time before Mr. Judson was shut up in prison, the emperor had received a present of a very fine young lion from his subjects in Bengal, which soon became a great favorite, not only with the king, but with all his officers.
Though of great size and strength, it would lick the hand of the emperor and lie down at his feet like a dog. Any of my young friends who have looked closely at the arms of Great Britain will not have failed to notice that a lion forms part of what is called its armorial bearings; a lion, too, is in the British flag or standard.
You will remember that a war was going on in Burmah between the Burmese and the English, and that several victories had been gained by the British soldiers; indeed, it was expected they would soon reach Ava, and the king gave up all for lost. Like most heathen nations, the people of Burmah believed in witches, charms and many such things, by which Satan, who is, we know from scripture, the god and prince of this world, has blinded the eyes and hearts of his subjects. It began to be whispered at Court that perhaps the lion was really a friend and ally of the English: its death might save the country.
So one morning the royal pet, secured in a strong iron cage, was sent to the death prison, the orders being that no food or drink was to be given to it. It was to be left to die of hunger and thirst. But sometimes a woman, touched by the sufferings of the poor creature, would venture near enough to the cage to throw a morsel of food between the bars, or one of the guards would pour a pail of water over the captive monarch.
One day it was found dead, and was dragged out and buried in the prison court. Mr. Judson was again ill with fever, and so closely chained that he could not turn or even move without pain. What a comfort it would be, he thought, if only his jailers would allow him to be removed to the empty cage of the lion. There he would have room to lie down, and also get some fresh air. At first they refused, but after some time the gentle pleadings of Mrs. Judson prevailed with the governor and he consented. She was also allowed to pay daily visits to her husband, who soon began to get better.
A message from the governor was one day brought to Mrs. Judson as she sat by her husband reading to him. "You are to go," said the servant, "to his house at once, as he wishes to speak to you about something of great importance." She went, and though the governor said he had only sent for her to ask if she would wind up his watch, she soon found it was only an excuse to get her away from the prison. She was detained for some time. As she left, one of the servants told her that all the white prisoners had been taken away, but he did not know where. Mrs. Judson hurried to the prison, to find that what she had heard was only too true.
No one could or would tell her where they had been taken. Returning to the governor, she begged for some information. "I knew this morning," he replied, "that they were to be taken away; but I did not wish you to hear of it. I know but little more than yourself; I will, however, send off a man to find out what is to be done with them: you can do nothing more for your husband; take care of yourself now.”
Later in the day Mrs. Judson heard they had been sent to a place some miles up the river. She wished to follow them at once, but the governor told her it would not be safe for her to go alone, promising that if she would wait till nightfall, he would send her in the care of a trusty servant. She consented, and went to the mission-house to get a few things. On her way there she met one of the native Christians, who gave her what was indeed a treasure, the pillow in which the New Testament had been sewn up with such care. It had been taken from Mr. Judson by one of the prison keepers, who had been induced to give it up in exchange for something he thought of much greater value.
It must have been a comfort to Mrs. Judson, lonely and sorrowful as she was, even to touch once more the dirty cotton wrapper that covered the precious roll. Yes, and her faith seemed to go stronger as she thought of it. The gospel should yet be the light of Burmah.
And what of the prisoners? Tied two and two by ropes, they had been driven at noon, and under the fiery rays of an Indian sun, over rough stones and burning sand, till their feet were blistered and bleeding. Mr. Judson, who was still very weak, almost fainted from pain and loss of blood. Still they were obliged to journey on, mile after mile, without once stopping to rest.
At night they were crowded into a shed, but no food or water was given to them. A native woman kindly brought them some fruit.
The next morning, after a welcome meal of rice, they were placed in carts, and soon afterward lodged in an old tumble-down prison near an Indian village. They had not been there more than two hours before Mrs. Judson arrived, carrying her baby, and looking very pale and tired.
"Why did you follow me?" the husband asked; adding, "you cannot live here; this is no place for you.”
In vain Mrs. Judson begged the guard to allow her to put up a little hut outside the prison, as she had done at Ava. He refused, and at last she was obliged to seek the shelter of a shed at some distance, overgrown by tall, damp grass. The guard gave her a little water, and worn out by fatigue she fell asleep.
A day or two after it was plain she had taken the small-pox; she became too ill even to attend to her baby, and the poor little thing would have died from want of food if Mr. Judson, still wearing his chains, had not obtained permission from his guards to carry it every day to the village, where a Burmese mother, whose infant was about the same age as Maria Judson, fed the wailing sickly baby.
Six months later and the king, who could not speak or write English very well, remembering Mr. Judson, thought he might be of use as an interpreter, and ordered his return to Ava. On the way there he had another very bad attack of fever, and became so ill that for many days he did not know what was passing around him.
When he got a little better, though still too weak to sit up, he was kept at work, reading and explaining Government papers.
Mrs. Judson, who had again followed her husband and returned to the mission-house at Ava, took what was known in Burmah as the "spotted fever," and was so ill, being unable to move or speak, that several Burmese women, who were in the room, said, "She is dead! She is dead! Who will comfort the teacher now?”
But it was only a fainting fit, and in a few days the fever abated, though for many weeks she was not able to stand. But the days of Mr. Judson's imprisonment were almost at an end. After a year and seven months spent in prison, an order for his release was granted, and once more a free man, he was able to join his wife and child in the mission-house.