While Squire Hawkwood and his colleagues entered, Ralph rose from his
seat, and advanced a few steps to receive them; and his stately figure
and dark countenance, as he bent courteously towards his guests, had a
natural dignity, contrasting well with the bustling importance of the
Squire. The old gentleman, according to invariable custom, gave an
elaborate preliminary flourish with his cane in the air, then removed
his three-cornered hat in order to wipe his brow, and finally
proceeded to make known his errand.

"My colleagues and myself," began the Squire, "are burdened with
momentous duties, being jointly selectmen of this village. Our minds,
for the space of three days past, have been laboriously bent on the
selection of a suitable person to fill a most important office, and
take upon himself a charge and rule, which, wisely considered, may be
ranked no lower than those of kings and potentates. And whereas you,
our native townsman, are of good natural intellect, and well
cultivated by foreign travel, and that certain vagaries and fantasies
of your youth are doubtless long ago corrected; taking all these
matters, I say, into due consideration, we are of opinion that
Providence Lath sent you hither, at this juncture, for our very
purpose."

During this harangue, Cranfield gazed fixedly at the speaker, as if he
beheld something mysterious and unearthly in his pompous little
figure, and as if the Squire had worn the flowing robes of an ancient
sage, instead of a square-skirted coat, flapped waistcoat, velvet
breeches, and silk stockings. Nor was his wonder without sufficient
cause; for the flourish of the Squire's staff, marvellous to relate,
had described precisely the signal in the air which was to ratify the
message of the prophetic Sage, whom Cranfield had sought around the