Childermass let out a brief burst of laughter. “Well, well!” he said, crossing his arms and regarding Vinculus with some amusement. “This card here,” he tapped La Justice, “tells me you have weighed your choices and come to a decision. And this one,” he indicated The Two of Wands. “tells me what your decision is: you are going wandering. It seems I have wasted my time. You have already made up your mind to leave London. So many protestations, Vinculus, and yet you always intended to go!”

Vinculus shrugged, as if to say, what did Childermass expect?

The fifth card was the Valet de Coupe, the Page of Cups. One naturally thinks of a page as being a youthful person, but the picture shewed a mature man with bowed head. His hair was shaggy and his beard was thick. In his left hand he carried a heavy cup, yet it could not be that which gave such an odd, strained expression to his countenance – not unless it were the heaviest cup in the world. No, it must be some other burden, not immediately apparent. Owing to the materials which Childermass had been compelled to use to construct his cards this picture had a most peculiar look. It had been drawn upon the back of a letter and the writing shewed through the paper. The man’s clothes were a mass of scribble and even his face and hands bore parts of letters.

Vinculus laughed when he saw it as though he recognized it. He gave the card three taps in friendly greeting. Perhaps it was this that made Childermass less certain than he had been before. “You have a message to deliver to someone,” he said in an uncertain tone.

Vinculus nodded. “And will the next card shew me this person?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Vinculus and turned over the sixth card himself.

The sixth card was the Cavalier de Baton. The Knight of Wands. A man in a broad-brimmed hat sat upon a horse of a pale colour. The countryside through which he rode was indicated by a few rocks and tufts of grass at his horse’s hooves. His clothes were well-made and expensive-looking, but for some inexplicable reason he was carrying a heavy club. Even to call it a club was to make it sounder grander than it was. It was scarcely more than a thick branch torn from a tree or hedge; there were still twigs and leaves protruding from it.

Vinculus picked up the card and studied it carefully.

The seventh card was The Two of Swords. Childermass said nothing but immediately turned over the eighth card – Le Pendv, The Hanged Man. The ninth card was Le Monde, The World. It shewed a naked female figure dancing; in the four corners of the card were an angel, an eagle, a winged bull and a winged lion – the symbols of the evangelists.

“You may expect a meeting,” said Childermass, “leading to an ordeal of some sort, perhaps even death. The cards do not say whether you survive or not, but whatever happens, this,” he touched the last card, “says that you will achieve your purpose.”