With this remark the magician appeared suddenly to grow tired of this conversation. He turned back to his book and started reading.

Jeremy waited a moment and then, since his master appeared to have forgotten all about him, he went away again.

“I have not thanked you yet, sir,” said Stephen to the gentleman, “for these wonderful gifts.”

“Ah, Stephen! I am glad I have pleased you. The diadem, I confess, is your own hat transformed by magic. I would have greatly preferred to give you a real crown, but I was entirely unable to lay my hand upon one at such short notice. You are disappointed, I dare say. Although now I come to think of it, the King of England has several crowns, and rarely makes use of any of them.”

He raised his hands in the air and pointed upwards with two immensely long white fingers.

“Oh!” cried Stephen, suddenly realizing what the gentleman was about. “If you think of casting spells to bring the King of England here with one of his crowns – which I imagine you do, since you are all kindness – then I beg that you will spare yourself the trouble! I have no need of one at the moment, as you know, and the King of England is such an old gentleman – would it not perhaps be kinder to let him stay at home?”

“Oh, very well!” said the gentleman, lowering his hands.

For lack of any other occupation, he reassumed his abuse of the new magician. Nothing about the man pleased him. He ridiculed the book he was reading, found fault with the make of his boots, and was entirely unable to approve of his height (despite the fact that he was exactly the same height as the gentleman with the thistle-down hair – as was proved when they both happened to stand up at the same time.)

Stephen was anxious to return to his duties in Harley-street, but he feared that if he left them alone together then the gentleman might start throwing something more substantial than paper at the magician. “Shall you and I walk to Harley-street together, sir?” he asked. “Then you may tell me how your noble actions have moulded London and made it glorious. That is always so very entertaining. I never grow tired of hearing about it.”

“Gladly, Stephen! Gladly!”

“Is it far, sir?”

“Is what far, Stephen?”

“Harley-street, sir. I do not know where we are.”

“We are in Soho-square and no, it is not far at all!”

When they reached the house in Harley-street the gentleman took a most affectionate farewell of Stephen, urging him not to feel sad at this parting and reminding him that they would meet again that very night at Lost-hope. “… when a most charming ceremony will be held in the belfry of the Easternmost Tower. It commemorates an occasion which happened – oh! five hundred years ago or so – when I cleverly contrived to capture the little children of my enemy and we pushed them out of the belfry to their deaths. Tonight we will re-enact this great triumph! We will dress straw dolls in the children’s blood-stained clothes and fling them down on to the paving stones and then we will sing and dance and rejoice over their destruction!”