Childermass was silent a moment. “Well, you astonish me!” he said at last. “I can think of several people who have good cause to aim a pistol at your heart, but for the life of me I cannot understand why this woman should be one of them.”

“They tell me she is mad,” said Mr Norrell. “She escaped the people who were set to watch her and came here to kill me – which, as I think you will agree, is proof enough of her madness.” Mr Norrell’s small grey eyes looked away. “After all I am known everywhere as her benefactor.”

Childermass was barely listening to him. “But where did she get the pistol? Sir Walter is a sensible man. It is hard to imagine that he leaves firearms in her way.”

“It was a duelling pistol – one of a pair that belongs to Sir Walter. It is kept in a locked box in a locked writing-desk in his private study. Sir Walter says that until yesterday he would have taken an oath that she knew nothing about it. As to how she contrived to get the key – both keys – that is a mystery to every one.”

“It does not seem much of a mystery to me. Wives, even mad wives, have ways of getting what they want from husbands.”

“But Sir Walter did not have the keys. That is the strange part of it. These pistols were the only firearms in the house and Sir Walter had some natural concerns for the security of his wife and possessions since he is so frequently away from home. The keys were in the keeping of the butler – that tall black man – I dare say you know who I mean. Sir Walter cannot understand how he came to make such a mistake. Sir Walter says he is generally the most reliable and trustworthy fellow in the world. Of course one never really knows what servants are thinking,” continued Mr Norrell blithely, forgetting that he was speaking to one at that moment, “yet it can hardly be supposed that this man bears any grudge against me. I never spoke three words to him in my life. Of course,” he continued, “I could prosecute Lady Pole for trying to kill me. Yesterday I was quite determined upon it. But it has been represented to me by several people that I must consider Sir Walter. Lord Liverpool and Mr Lascelles both say so, and I believe that they are right. Sir Walter has been a good friend to English magic. I should not wish to give Sir Walter any reason to regret that he has been my friend. Sir Walter has given me his solemn oath that she will be put away somewhere in the country where she will see no one and no one will see her.”