CHAPTER V.
INTERFERENCE OF A GUERNSEY MERCHANT.
A smaller man than Major Hymen--I allude to character rather than to stature--had undoubtedly postponed a military manoeuvre on finding it likely to clash with the Millennium, an event so incalculable and conceivably so disconcerting to the best-laid plans: and, indeed, for something like forty-eight hours the Major was in two minds about writing to Captain Pond and hinting at a postponement.
But in the end he characteristically chose the stronger line.
I believe the handsome language of Captain Pond's last letter decided him.

His was no cheap imitation of the grand manner.

Magnificently, spaciously--too spaciously, perhaps, considering the width of our streets--it enshrined a real conception of Man's proper dignity.
Here was an obligation in which honour met and competed with politeness: and he must fulfil it though the heavens fell.

Moreover, he could not but be aware, during the month of April, that the town had its eye on him, hoping for a sign.

He and the Vicar and Mr.
Hansombody had bound each other to secrecy; nevertheless some inkling of the secret had leaked out.