reached the solemnised point of intoxication, and some
of his young men the owlish condition.

In some parts of this island of Madagascar, as in other parts of the
world, the people reduced themselves to great poverty through strong
drink. Though they had abundance of rice, and much beef, which latter
was salted for exportation, they sold so much of their food for arrack--
imported by traders from Mauritius and Bourbon--that little was left for
the bare maintenance of life, and they, with their families, were often
compelled to subsist on roots. They did not understand "moderate
drinking"! Intoxication was the rule until the arrack was done. The
wise King Radama the First attempted to check the consumption of ardent
spirits by imposing a heavy duty on them, but his efforts were only
partially successful.

The tribe to which our travellers were at this time introduced had just
succeeded in obtaining a quantity of the coarse and fiery spirits of the
traders. Their native visitors being quite ready to assist in the
consumption thereof, there was every prospect of a disgusting exhibition
of savagery that night.

"Don't you think we might escape this feast?" said Mark to the guide,
after the ceremony of introduction was over, "by urging the importance
of our business at Antananarivo?"

"Not easily. Voalavo is one of those determined and hearty men who
insist on all their friends enjoying themselves as they themselves do.
To-morrow we may persuade him to let us go. Besides, I do not object to
stay, for I intend to preach them a sermon on ungodliness and
intemperance in the middle of the feast."

Mark could scarcely forbear smiling at what he deemed the originality of
the guide's intention, as well as the quiet decision with which he
stated it.

"Don't you think," he said, "that this way of bearding the lion in his
den may rouse the people to anger?"

"I know not--I think not; but it is my business to be instant in season
and out of season," replied Ravonino, simply.

Mark said no more. He felt that he had to do with a Christian of a
somewhat peculiar type, and thereafter he looked forward with not a
little curiosity and some anxiety to the promised sermon. He was
doomed, like the reader, to disappointment in this matter, for that
night had not yet run into morning when an event occurred which modified
and hastened the proceedings of himself and his friends considerably.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

AN UNINVITED