Lord Liverpool considered this. “I think,” he said, “we could only justify sending Mr Strange to serve with one of the generals if we were reasonably confident of that general shortly achieving some sort of success against the French. Anything else would be an unforgivable waste of Mr Strange’s talents which, God knows, we need badly enough in London. Frankly the choice is not great. Really there is no one but Lord Wellington.”

“Oh, quite!”

Lord Wellington was in Portugal with his army and so his opinion could not be easily ascertained, but by an odd coincidence his wife lived at no. 11 Harley-street, just opposite Sir Walter’s own house. When Sir Walter went home that evening he knocked at Lady Wellington’s door and asked her ladyship what she thought Lord Wellington would say to the idea of a magician. But Lady Wellington, a small, unhappy person whose opinion was not much valued by her husband, did not know.

Strange, on the other hand, was delighted with the proposal. Arabella, though somewhat less delighted, gave her assent very readily. The greatest obstacle to Strange’s going proved to be, to no one’s great surprize, Norrell. In the past year Mr Norrell had grown to rely a great deal upon his pupil. He consulted Strange upon all those matters which in bygone days had been referred to Drawlight and Lascelles. Mr Norrell talked of nothing but Mr Strange when Strange was away, and talked to no one but Strange when Strange was present. His feelings of attachment seemed all the stronger for being entirely new; he had never felt truly comfortable in any one’s society before. If, in a crowded drawing-room or ballroom, Strange contrived to escape for a quarter of an hour, Mr Norrell would send Drawlight after him to discover where he had gone and whom he was talking to. Consequently, when Mr Norrell learnt there was a plan to send his only pupil and friend to the war he was shocked. “I am astonished, Sir Walter,” he said, “that you should even suggest such a thing!”

“But every man must be prepared to make sacrifices for the sake of his country during a war,” said Sir Walter with some irritation, “and thousands have already done so, you know.”

“But they were soldiers!” cried Mr Norrell. “Oh! I dare say a soldier is very valuable in his way but that is nothing to the loss the Nation would sustain if any thing were to happen to Mr Strange! There is, I understand, a school at High Wycombe where 300 officers are trained every year. I would to God that I were so fortunate as to have 300 magicians to educate! If I had, then English magic might be in a much more promising situation than it is at present!”