‘Nathless I would not grudge it him,’ said Clerivault; ‘for in truth no man deserves it better, or could more appreciate its moral and corporeal value. Yet was it good fortune, as thou sayest, to light on this fallen star, hung never in the constellation of the scales, but shed like a glittering gem from Mars his fiery breast. I had not been a lawyer but for love of one man.’ ‘He found you fallen, you say, Clerivault? How?’ ‘No matter. Kings fall: I have Kings’ blood in my veins, ha! He who hath commanded knows how to serve. I have served and do serve like a King. To the greater light the lesser is but a shadow; and yet it is a light. I am myself, Kingly; and yet I am no King. But when all men shall be Kings and all Kings men, then shall the world open its eyes and see the Millennium. And in the meantime I serve, Kingly.’ Brion opened _his_ eyes to this astonishing rodomontade. Laughter quivered in him, though he dared not yield to it. ‘In what way Kingly?’ said he. ‘As one who leads, Sir,’ answered Clerivault, ‘while feigning but to follow.’ ‘And do you lead my Uncle, while so feigning?’ ‘Soft, in your ear, now! Gray’s Inn might tell a tale.’ ‘Gray’s Inn?’ ‘Ha! You know not. ’Twas there we had our dwelling--no chambers nobler or more noted; and he who occupied them a fitting brilliant to such setting. Ancient, barrister, bencher--he had stood to reach the highest honour, that of duplex reader, but that sour Fortune tripped him. He shone, Sir; and, if like the carbuncle, which, being exposed to the sun, and thereafter set in darkness, repays the light it borrows, still--he shone. I say no more.’ He need not. The implication was plain to demonstration. ‘Wert thou the sun, Clerivault,’ said Brion, with a little gasp, ‘that made this carbuncle so to shine?’ The paragon coughed. ‘No sun, Sir, by your favour--I know my limitations--yet mayhap with some power to illuminate. He might consult me--I do not say--there have been judgments passed for his, which--but it ill becomes a man to praise his own wares. You have never heard speak of our “mootings”?’ ‘No. What were they?’ ‘Disputations, Sir, convened in the Great Hall to argue moot points of law. There would be a counterfeit case stated, and counsel appointed to represent both plaintiff and defendant. Then was the cream of legal subtleness displayed, and not least in the devising of new theses for discussion. I could tell of one that possessed a happy adroitness in such contrivings, though he might not appear in person to claim the credit of his own inventions. But, like the puppet-master who, himself unseen, pulls the strings that set his dolls a-dancing, he was the known originator of some debates most admired in their subjects. So with our masques and revels, wherein, were some great fresh device apparent, one would be named for its certain author who shall not be named by me. No, not rack nor the strappado should wring divulgement from these lips.’