“‘My own fee,’ said he, ‘is fixed by statute, and I must ask you for ten dinars—a nominal matter.’ With this, before I could stop him, he seized a large metal disc, wet a corner of a parchment, put the disc upon it, struck it with a hammer, and then held out his hand for the fee. Luckily I had my pouch with me, and so, very reluctantly, paid over this first drop of my disastrous leakage.
“‘Good!’ said the Scrivener. ‘We must next ask the opinion of two eminent Pleaders.’
“‘Why?’ said I.
“‘The law demands it,’ said the Scrivener.
“‘But you have already given me yours, and told me it is worth my while to proceed.’
“‘My opinion,’ said the Scrivener, shaking his head vigorously, ‘may serve to guide you, indeed; but it would be altogether irregular to go into court upon that alone. So, I will draw up a statement, as we call it, and have it put before two men of the first standing—it is always better in these cases to use the highest talent. In the long run it is worth while.’
“I asked timidly how much this further step would cost, and was somewhat relieved to learn that fifty dinars to each of these eminent men would be sufficient. He asked me to return on the third day when he would give me the responses; and he particularly reminded me that I should upon that occasion not forget to bring with me at least 150 dinars.
“‘But why the other fifty?’ said I.
“‘Stamps and fees,’ said the Scrivener shortly, and then, with infinite courtesy, dismissed me from his presence.
“On the third day I returned, bearing with me the 150 dinars from my little hoard, which I put upon the Scrivener’s table to save all further difficulties in the matter. He poured the money meditatively into a little metal case, beautifully engraved, and dating, I should say, from the second century of the Flight of the Prophet; it was probably (to my practised eye) of Syrian workmanship.