Mr Segundus shook his head. “As a means of getting knowledge, it strikes me as more dramatic than convenient. Can you not think of an easier way? After all, in the Golden Age of English magic, books were much rarer than they are now, yet men still became magicians.”

“I have studied histories and biographies of the Aureates to discover how they began,” said Strange, “but it seems that in those days, as soon as any one found out he had some aptitude for magic, he immediately set off for the house of some other, older, more experienced magician and offered himself as a pupil.”⁶

“Then you should apply to Mr Norrell for assistance!” cried Mr Honeyfoot, “Indeed you should. Oh! yes, I know,” seeing that Mr Segundus was about to make some objection, “Norrell is a little reserved, but what is that? Mr Strange will know how to overcome his timidity I am sure. For all his faults of temper, Norrell is no fool and must see the very great advantages of having such an assistant!”

Mr Segundus had many objections to this scheme, in particular Mr Norrell’s great aversion to other magicians; but Mr Honeyfoot, with all the enthusiasm of his eager disposition, had no sooner conceived the idea than it became a favourite wish and he could not suppose there would be any drawbacks. “Oh! I agree,” he said, “that Norrell has never looked very favourably upon us theoretical magicians. But I dare say he will behave quite differently towards an equal.”

Strange himself did not seem at all averse to the idea; he had a natural curiosity to see Mr Norrell. Indeed Mr Segundus could not help suspecting that he had already made up his mind upon the point and so Mr Segundus gradually allowed his doubts and objections to be argued down.

“This is a great day for Great Britain, sir!” cried Mr Honeyfoot. “Look at all that one magician has been able to accomplish! Only consider what two might do! Strange and Norrell! Oh, it sounds very well!” Then Mr Honeyfoot repeated “Strange and Norrell” several times over, in a highly delighted manner that made Strange laugh very much.

But like many gentle characters, Mr Segundus was much given to changes of mind. As long as Mr Strange stood before him, tall, smiling and assured, Mr Segundus had every confidence that Strange’s genius must receive the recognition it deserved – whether it be with Mr Norrell’s help, or in spite of Mr Norrell’s hindrance; but the next morning, after Strange and Henry Woodhope had ridden off, his thoughts returned to all the magicians whom Mr Norrell had laboured to destroy, and he began to wonder if Mr Honeyfoot and he might not have misled Strange.

“I cannot help thinking,” he said, “that we should have done a great deal better to warn Mr Strange to avoid Mr Norrell. Rather than encouraging him to seek out Norrell we should have advised him to hide himself!”