The footman looked at the coachman for some assistance, but the coachman was determined not to be drawn in and stared off into the distance. “I see, sir,” said the footman.

Strange continued to regard the doorway with the same expression of thoughtful interest. Then he called out, “Childermass! Is that you?”

For a moment nothing happened and then the dark shadow which Strange objected to so strongly moved. It came away from the doorway like a wet sheet being peeled from a bed and as it did so, it changed and shrank and altered and became a man: John Childermass.

Childermass smiled his wry smile. “Well, sir, I could not expect to stay hidden from you for long.”

Strange sniffed. “I have been expecting you this past week or more. Where have you been?”

“My master did not send me until yesterday.”

“And how is your master?”

“Oh, poorly, sir, very poorly. He is beset with colds and headachs and tremblings in his limbs. All his usual symptoms when someone has vexed him. And no one vexes him as you do.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

“By the by, sir, I have been meaning to tell you. I have some money at Hanover-square for you. Your fees from the Treasury and the Admiralty for the last quarter of 1814.”

Strange opened his eyes in surprize. “And does Norrell really intend to let me have my share? I had supposed that money was gone for good.”

Childermass smiled. “Mr Norrell knows nothing about it. Shall I bring the money tonight?”

“Certainly. I shall not be at home, but give it to Jeremy. Tell me, Childermass, I am curious. Does Norrell know that you go about making yourself invisible and turning yourself into shadows?”

“Oh, I have picked up a little skill here and there. I have been twenty-six years in Mr Norrell’s service. I would have to be a very dull fellow to have learnt nothing at all.”

“Yes, of course. But that was not what I asked. Does Norrell know?”

“No, sir. He suspects, but he chuses not to know. A magician who passes his life in a room full of books must have someone to go about the world for him. There are limits to what you can find out in a silver dish of water. You know that.”

“Hmm. Well, come on, man! See what you were sent to see!”

The house had a much neglected, almost deserted air. Its windows and paint were very dirty and the shutters were all put up. Strange and Childermass waited upon the pavement while the footman knocked at the door. Strange had his umbrella and Childermass was entirely indifferent to the rain falling upon him.