“I should like nothing better, sir,” said Mr Segundus, “than to oblige you, but I do not see Mr Norrell.”

Yet there was someone.

Someone was standing in the snow alone directly in front of the Minster. He was a dark sort of someone, a not-quite-respectable someone who was regarding Mr Segundus and Dr Foxcastle with an air of great interest. His ragged hair hung about his shoulders like a fall of black water; he had a strong, thin face with something twisted in it, like a tree root; and a long, thin nose; and, though his skin was very pale, something made it seem a dark face – perhaps it was the darkness of his eyes, or the proximity of that long, black greasy hair. After a moment this person walked up to the two magicians, gave them a sketchy bow and said that he hoped they would forgive his intruding upon them but they had been pointed out to him as gentlemen who were there upon the same business as himself. He said that his name was John Childermass, and that he was Mr Norrell’s steward in certain matters (though he did not say what these were).

“It seems to me,” said Mr Segundus thoughtfully, “that I know your face. I have seen you before, I think?”

Something shifted in Childermass’s dark face, but it was gone in a moment and whether it had been a frown or laughter it was impossible to say. “I am often in York upon business for Mr Norrell, sir. Perhaps you have seen me in one of the city bookselling establishments?”

“No,” said Mr Segundus, “I have seen you … I can picture you … Where? … Oh! I shall have it in a moment!”

Childermass raised an eyebrow as if to say he very much doubted it.

“But surely Mr Norrell is coming himself?” said Dr Foxcastle.

Childermass begged Dr Foxcastle’s pardon, but he did not think Mr Norrell would come; he did not think Mr Norrell saw any reason to come.

“Ah!” cried Dr Foxcastle. “then he concedes, does he? Well, well, well. Poor gentleman. He feels very foolish, I dare say. Well indeed. It was a noble attempt at any rate. We bear him no ill-will for having made the attempt.” Dr Foxcastle was much relieved that he would see no magic and it made him generous.

Childermass begged Dr Foxcastle’s pardon once more; he feared that Dr Foxcastle had mistaken his meaning. Mr Norrell would certainly do magic; he would do it in Hurtfew Abbey and the results would be seen in York. “Gentlemen,” said Childermass to Dr Foxcastle, “do not like to leave their comfortable firesides unless they must. I dare say if you, sir, could have managed the seeing part of the business from your own drawing-room you would not be here in the cold and wet.”

Dr Foxcastle drew in his breath sharply and bestowed on John Childermass a look that said that he thought John Childermass very insolent.