“What in the world is that hideous sound?” asked Lascelles.

Mr Norrell stood up. He rubbed his hands together – with him always a sign of great nervousness and strain. “Strange is here,” said, quickly. He spoke a word. The clocks were silent.

The door burst open. Mr Norrell and Mr Lascelles turned with faces all alarm, in full expectation of seeing Strange standing there. But it was only Lucas and two of the other servants.

“Mr Norrell!” began Lucas. “I think …”

“Yes, yes! I know! Go to the store-room at the foot of the kitchen-stairs. In the chest under the window you will find lead chains, lead padlocks and lead keys. Bring them here! Quickly!”

“And I will go and fetch a pair of pistols,” declared Lascelles.

“They will do no good,” said Mr Norrell.

“Oh! You would be surprized how many problems a pair of pistols can solve!”

They returned within five minutes. There was Lucas, looking reluctant and unhappy, holding the chains and locks; Lascelles with his pistols; and four or five more manservants.

“Where do you suppose he is?” asked Lascelles.

“In the library. Where else?” said Mr Norrell. “Come.”

They left the drawing-room and entered the dining-room. From here they passed into a short corridor which contained an inlaid ebony sideboard, the marble statue of a centaur and its foal, and a painting of Salome carrying St John’s head on a silver platter. There were two doors ahead of them. The one on the right had an unfamiliar look to Lascelles, as if he had never seen it before. Mr Norrell led them through it and they immediately found themselves – back in the drawing-room.

“Wait,” said Mr Norrell in confusion. He looked behind him. “I must have … No. Wait. I have it now! Come!”

Once again they passed through the dining-room into the corridor. This time they went through the door upon the left. It too led straight back to the drawing-room.

Mr Norrell gave a loud, despairing cry. “He has broken my labyrinth and woven another against me!”

“In some ways, sir,” remarked Lascelles, “I could have wished that you had not taught him so well.”

“Oh! I never taught him to do this – and you may be sure that he never learnt it from any one else! Either the Devil taught him or he learnt it this very night in my house. This is the genius of my enemy! Lock a door against him and all that happens is that he learns first how to pick a lock and second how to build a better one against you!”

Lucas and the other servants lit more candles as if light could somehow help them see through Strange’s spells and help them distinguish reality from magic. Soon each of the three apartments was ablaze with light. Candlesticks and candelabras were crowded upon every surface, but it only served to confuse them more. They went from dining-room to drawing-room, from drawing-room to corridor – “Like foxes in a stopt earth,” said Lascelles. But, try as they might, they could not leave the three apartments.