“Is it?” asked Norrell.

“Well, for example, if we found he was close by, we could …” Strange considered a moment. “We could go to him.”

“Very well,” sighed Norrell. He did not sound or look very hopeful.

The first – and indeed only – requirement for spells of location is a silver dish of water. At Hurtfew Abbey Mr Norrell’s dish had stood upon a little table in the corner of the room, but the table had been destroyed by the violence of the ravens and the dish was nowhere to be seen. They searched for a while and eventually found it in the fireplace, upside-down beneath a mess of raven feathers and damp, torn pages from books.

“We need water,” said Norrell. “I always made Lucas get it from the river. Water that has travelled rapidly is best for location magic – and Hurtfew’s river is quick-flowing even in summer. I will fetch it.”

But Mr Norrell was not much in the habit of doing any thing for himself and it was a little while before he was out of the house. He stood on the lawn and stared up at stars he had never seen before. He did not feel as if he were inside a Pillar of Darkness in the middle of Yorkshire; he felt more as if the rest of the world had fallen away and he and Strange were left alone upon a solitary island or promontory. The idea distressed him a great deal less than one might have supposed. He had never much cared for the world and he bore its loss philosophically.

At the river’s edge he knelt down among the frozen grasses to fill the dish with water. The unknown stars shone up at him from the depths. He stood up again (a little dizzy from the unaccustomed exertion) – and immediately he had an overwhelming sense of magic going on – much stronger than he had ever felt it before. If any one had asked him to describe what was happening, he would have said that all of Yorkshire was turning itself inside out. For a moment he could not think which direction the house lay in. He turned, stumbled and walked straight into Mr Strange, who for some reason was standing directly behind him. “I thought you were going to remain in the library!” he said in surprize.

Strange glared at him. “I did remain in the library! One moment I was reading Goubert’s Gatekeeper of Apollo. The next moment I was here!”

“You did not follow me?” asked Norrell.

“No, of course not! What is happening? And what in God’s name is taking you so long?”

“I could not find my greatcoat,” said Norrell, humbly. “I did not know where Lucas had put it.”

Strange raised one eye-brow, sighed and said, “I presume you experienced the same as me? Just before I was plucked up and brought here, there was a sensation like winds and waters and flames, all mixed together?”