“‘None,’ said he, simply. ‘But your opponents would.’
“‘My opponents are the King and his Council,’ said I.
“‘In quite another aspect,’ said the Scrivener, looking on the ground and falling silent. ‘Under these circumstances,’ said he, after a pause, ‘you will do very well to proceed.’
“‘But,’ said I, ‘in case these appeals ...’
“He waved his hands. ‘We will not talk of appeals yet,’ he said quickly. ‘After all, you lose nothing by first instance. Have you your Charter with you?’
“I said I had, and brought it out for him. He read it slowly, consulted a book for a moment, and then said:
“‘An excellent case!’ (you may judge, my dear nephews, how my heart leapt at these words!) ‘An excellent case!... You have your Charter and its terms are clear. By it there is bound to be paid to you and your heirs for ever the revenue from the Salt Tax, and the issue will lie, I think, upon whether the clause implies payment undiminished and perpetual, or whether the recent Proclamations make a gumbo-rumbo of the original.’
“‘A what?’ said I.
“‘It is a legal term,’ said he, a little wearily, ‘and signifies a mixalum-malory or general contortation.... But let us not at this stage go into technicalities of that sort. We must first state our case.’
“‘Precisely,’ said I.