When they were seated in the drawing-room again, Mr Honeyfoot addressed Mr Norrell. “What I have seen here today, sir, convinces me that you are the best person to help us. Mr Segundus and I are of the opinion that modern magicians are on the wrong path; they waste their energies upon trifles. Do not you agree, sir?”

“Oh! certainly,” said Mr Norrell.

“Our question,” continued Mr Honeyfoot, “is why magic has fallen from its once-great state in our great nation. Our question is, sir, why is no more magic done in England?”

Mr Norrell’s small blue eyes grew harder and brighter and his lips tightened as if he were seeking to suppress a great and secret delight within him. It was as if, thought Mr Segundus, he had waited a long time for someone to ask him this question and had had his answer ready for years. Mr Norrell said, “I cannot help you with your question, sir, for I do not understand it. It is a wrong question, sir. Magic is not ended in England. I myself am quite a tolerable practical magician.”

2
The Old Starre Inn

January–February 1807

As the carriage passed out of Mr Norrell’s sweep-gate Mr Honeyfoot exclaimed; “A practical magician in England! And in Yorkshire too! We have had the most extraordinary good luck! Ah, Mr Segundus, we have you to thank for this. You were awake, when the rest of us had fallen asleep. Had it not been for your encouragement, we might never have discovered Mr Norrell. And I am quite certain that he would never have sought us out; he is a little reserved. He gave us no particulars of his achievements in practical magic, nothing beyond the simple fact of his success. That, I fancy, is the sign of a modest nature. Mr Segundus, I think you will agree that our task is clear. It falls to us, sir, to overcome Norrell’s natural timidity and aversion to praise, and lead him triumphantly before a wider public!”

“Perhaps,” said Mr Segundus doubtfully.

“I do not say it will be easy,” said Mr Honeyfoot. “He is a little reticent and not fond of company. But he must see that such knowledge as he possesses must be shared with others for the Nation’s good. He is a gentleman: he knows his duty and will do it, I am sure. Ah, Mr Segundus! You deserve the grateful thanks of every magician in the country for this.”

But whatever Mr Segundus deserved, the sad fact is that magicians in England are a peculiarly ungrateful set of men. Mr Honeyfoot and Mr Segundus might well have made the most significant discovery in magical scholarship for three centuries – what of it? There was scarcely a member of the York society who, when he learnt of it, was not entirely confident that he could have done it much better – and, upon the following Tuesday when an extraordinary meeting of the Learned Society of York Magicians was held, there were very few members who were not prepared to say so.