"In a way, yes. But in case of miscarriage, the consequences must be more severe. I will own that you tempt me. The tubs, you say, would be ready slung."
"Ready slung for carriage, man or horse, whichever you prefer, with ropes, stones and six anchors for sinking in case of emergency. We will allow for these if they are returned."
"To tell the truth, since becoming chief magistrate of this borough, I have rather set my face against these operations. It has seemed to me more consonant.… And an operation on the scale you propose could not be conducted without some degree of—er—audacity."
"It means a forced run," assented M. Dupin.
"If, on reflection—" the Major hesitated.
"Excuse me, but there is no time. For reasons of our own, my firm must clear the stuff before the end of April; that is why we offer it at the price. Three gross, with six ankers of the colouring stuff gratis—and the tubs ready slung. It must be 'yes' or 'no'; if you decline, then I have another customer on the string."
"The end of April, you say?" The Major refilled his glass and mused, holding it up against the last gleam of daylight.
"We could ship it on the 27th or 28th. The moon serves then. Say that you run it on the night of the 30th?"
"Of the 30th?" echoed the Major. "But on that night, of all others, my hands are full. To begin with, we are half-expecting the Millennium."
"The Millennium, hein?" echoed M. Dupin in his turn. "I do not know her."