“And now your thousand fears can be laid to rest,” she said. “At least as far as they concern me. Have you found any thing yet to dispel the Darkness?”

“No, not yet. Though, to own the truth, we have been so busy recently – some new conjectures concerning naiads – that we have scarcely had time to apply ourselves seriously to the problem. But there are one or two things in Goubert’s Gatekeeper of Apollo which look promising. We are optimistic.”

“I am glad. I am miserable when I think of you suffering.”

“Do not be miserable, I beg you. Apart from any thing else, I do not suffer. A little perhaps at first, but not now. And Norrell and I are hardly the first English magicians to labour under an enchantment. Robert Dymoke fell foul of a fairy in the twelfth century and thereafter could not speak but only sing – which, I am sure, is not so pleasant as it sounds. And there was a fourteenth-century magician who had a silver foot – which must have been very disagreeable. Besides who is to say that the Darkness may not be of advantage to us? We intend to go out of England and are likely to meet with all sorts of tricksy persons. An English magician is an impressive thing. Two English magicians are, I suppose, twice as impressive – but when those two English magicians are shrouded in an Impenetrable Darkness – ah, well! That, I should think, is enough to strike terror into the heart of any one short of a demi-god!”

“Where will you go?”

“Oh, there are plenty of places. This world is only one among so many, and it does not do for a magician to become too – what shall I say? – too parochial.”

“But will Mr Norrell like it?” she asked, doubtfully. “He was never fond of travelling – not even as far as Portsmouth.”

“Ah! But that is one of the advantages of our particular mode of travel. He need never leave the house if he does not wish it. The world – all worlds – will come to us.” He paused and looked about him. “I had better not go further. Norrell is a little way off. For various reasons to do with the enchantment, it is best that we do not stray very far from each other. Arabella,” he said, with a degree of seriousness unusual to him, “it hurt me more than I could bear to think of you under the earth. I would have done any thing – any thing at all – to fetch you safely out.”

She took his hands and her eyes were shining. “And you did it,” she whispered. They looked at each other for a long moment, and in that moment all was as it used to be – it was as if they had never parted; but she did not offer to go into the Darkness with him and he did not ask her.