For a moment Stephen looked as if he were about to say something, but then he shook his head and Mr Segundus continued. “Without Mr Strange to help us, it was clear to me that we must abandon the school. I travelled up to Bath to inform Mrs Lennox. She was full of kindness and told me we would soon fix on another plan. But I confess I left her house in a very despondent frame of mind. I had not gone many steps when I saw a strange sight. In the middle of the road was a figure in tattered black rags. His sore, reddened eyes were empty of all reason and hope. He dashed his arms against the phantoms that assaulted him and cried out, entreating them to have pity on him. Poor soul! The sick in body may sometimes find respite in sleep, but I knew instinctively that this man’s demons would follow him even into his dreams. I put a few coins into his hand and continued on my way. I am not aware that I thought of him particularly on the journey back, but as I stepped across the threshold of this house something very curious happened. I had what I think I must call a vision. I saw the madman in all his ravings standing in the hall – just as I had seen him in Bath – and I realized something. I realized that this house with its silence and its seclusion might be kind to persons distressed in mind. I wrote to Mrs Lennox and she approved my new plan. You said you did not know who had recommended me to Sir Walter. It was Childermass. Childermass had said he would help me if he could.”

Stephen said, “It might be best, sir, if you were to avoid any mention of your profession or of the school, at least at the beginning. There is nothing in the world – in this world or any other – that would give her ladyship greater pain than to find herself in thrall to another magician.”

“Thrall!” exclaimed Mr Segundus, in astonishment. “What an odd word that is! I sincerely hope that no one will ever consider themselves in thrall to me! Certainly not this lady!”

Stephen studied him for a moment. “I am sure you are a very different sort of magician from Mr Norrell,” he said.

“I hope I am,” said Mr Segundus, seriously.

An hour later a little commotion was heard in the yard. Stephen and Mr Segundus went out to receive her ladyship. The horses and carriage had been entirely unable to cross the packhorse bridge and Lady Pole had been obliged to walk the last fifty yards or so of her journey. She entered the courtyard of the Hall with some trepidation, glancing round at the bleak, snowy scene; and it seemed to Stephen that only the cruellest of hearts could look upon her, with all her youth, beauty and sad affliction, and not wish to offer her all the protection in their power. Inwardly he cursed Mr Norrell.