Lascelles smiled. “You may be easy on that score, sir. I assure you the only thing that Innes or Ker cares for is to be Duke. I do not think I have ever seen either of them so much as open a book.”

“Indeed? They do not care for books? Well, that is most reassuring.” Mr Norrell thought for a moment. “But supposing one of them were to come into possession of the Duke’s library and chanced to find some rare magical text upon a shelf and become curious about it. People are curious about magic, you know. That has been one of the more regrettable consequences of my own success. This man might read a little and find himself inspired to try a spell or two. It is, after all, exactly how I began myself when as a boy of twelve I opened a book from my uncle’s library and found inside a single page torn from a much older volume. The instant I read it, the conviction took hold of me that I must be a magician!”

“Indeed? That is most interesting,” said Lascelles, in tones of complete boredom. “But it is hardly, I think, likely to happen to Innes or Ker. Innes must be in his seventies and Ker about the same. Neither man is in search of a new career.”

“Oh! But have they no young relatives? Relatives who are perhaps avid readers of The Friends of English Magic and The Modern Magician? Relatives who would seize upon any books of magic the instant they laid eyes upon them! No, forgive me, Mr Lascelles, but I cannot regard the advanced age of the two gentlemen as any security at all!”

“Very well. But I doubt, sir, if these young thaumatomanes³ whom you describe so vividly will have any opportunity to view the library. In order to pursue their claim to the dukedom, both Ker and Innes have incurred vast legal expenses. The first concern of the new Duke, whoever he may be, will be to pay off his lawyers. His first act upon entering Floors Castle will be to look around for something to sell.⁴ I shall be very much surprized if the library is not put up for sale within a week of the Committee giving its decision.”

“A book sale!” exclaimed Mr Norrell in alarm.

“What are you afraid of now?” asked Childermass, looking up from his writing. “A book sale is generally the thing most calculated to please you.”

“Oh! but that was before,” said Mr Norrell, “when no one in the kingdom had the least interest in books of magic except me, but now I fear a great many people might try to buy them. I dare say there might be accounts in The Times.”

“Oh!” cried Drawlight. “If the books are bought by someone else you may complain to the Ministers! You may complain to the Prince of Wales! It is not in the interests of the Nation that books of magic should be in any one’s possession but your own, Mr Norrell.”