A magician’s house is expected to have certain peculiarities, but the most peculiar feature of Mr Norrell’s house was, without a doubt, Childermass. In no other household in London was there any servant like him. One day he might be observed removing a dirty cup and wiping crumbs from a table like a common footman. The next day he would interrupt a room full of admirals, generals and noblemen to tell them in what particulars he considered them mistaken. Mr Norrell had once publicly reprimanded the Duke of Devonshire for speaking at the same time as Childermass.

On a misty day at the end of January 1812 Childermass entered the library at Hanover-square where Mr Norrell was working and briefly informed him that he was obliged to go away upon business and did not know when he would return. Then, having given the other servants various instructions about the work they were to do in his absence, he mounted his horse and rode away.

In the three weeks that followed Mr Norrell received four letters from him: one from Newark in Nottinghamshire, one from York in the East Riding of Yorkshire, one from Richmond in the North Riding of Yorkshire and one from Sheffield in the West Riding of Yorkshire. But the letters were only about business matters and threw no light upon his mysterious journey.

He returned one night in the second half of February. Lascelles and Drawlight had dined at Hanover-square and were in the drawing-room with Mr Norrell when Childermass entered. He came directly from the stables; his boots and breeches were splashed with mud and his coat was still damp with rain.

“Where in the world have you been?” demanded Mr Norrell.

“In Yorkshire,” said Childermass, “making inquiries about Vinculus.”

“Did you see Vinculus?” asked Drawlight, eagerly.

“No, I did not.”

“Do you know where he is?” asked Mr Norrell.

“No, I do not.”

“Have you found Vinculus’s book?” asked Lascelles.

“No, I have not.”

“Tut,” said Lascelles. He eyed Childermass disapprovingly. “If you take my advice, Mr Norrell, you will not permit Mr Childermass to waste any more time upon Vinculus. No one has heard or seen any thing of him for years. He is probably dead.”

Childermass sat down upon the sopha like a man who had a perfect right to do so and said, “The cards say he is not dead. The cards say he is still alive and still has the book.”

“The cards! The cards!” cried Mr Norrell. “I have told you a thousand times how I detest any mention of those objects! You will oblige me by removing them from my house and never speaking of them again!”

Childermass threw his master a cool look. “Do you wish to hear what I have learnt or not?” he asked.

Mr Norrell nodded sullenly.