Thus Henry to Arthur--with the "heavy brief" between them on the table. Perhaps Henry's surprise and enthusiasm had run away with him a little; or perhaps he had wanted to make quite sure of lassoing Arthur back. At any rate, had the brief been Norton Ward's, he would hardly have called it "heavy"--satisfactory and, indeed, imposing as the fee appeared in Arthur's eyes. Nor was the case what would generally be known as a "heavy" one; no great commercial transaction was involved, no half-a-million or so of money depended on it. None the less, it already displayed a fair bulk of papers--a voluminous correspondence--and possessed, as Arthur was soon to discover, great potentialities of further growth. A very grain of mustard seed for that! It was destined, as luck would have it (the lawyers' luck, not the clients'), to a notable career; it engaged the attention of no less than ten of His Majesty's Judges. It had already been before Pretyman, J., in chambers. Naresby, J., was to try it (if a glance into the future be allowable). The Court of Appeal was to send it back for a new trial. The Lord Chief Justice was to take it to himself. Again the Court of Appeal was to figure, disagreeing with the judgment pronounced by the Lord Chief Justice on the findings of the jury. And, at last, four noble and learned Lords were to upset the Court of Appeal, and restore the judgment of the Lord Chief Justice--a decision which, at all events, was final, though Arthur, whose feelings were by that time deeply engaged, never pretended to consider it right. And then, when the case was disposed of for good and all, no longer _sub judicibus_ (the plural is obviously demanded), the newspapers took a turn at it with those ironical comments with which their ignorance is rashly prone to assail the mysteries of the Law.