Lascelles laughed. “Far be it from me, Mr Childermass, to disparage your quaint country sayings. But surely it is one thing to pay lip-service to one’s history and quite another to talk of bringing back a King who numbered Lucifer himself among his allies and overlords? No one wants that, do they? I mean apart from a few Johannites and madmen?”

“I am a North Englishman, Mr Lascelles,” said Childermass. “Nothing would please me better than that my King should come home. It is what I have wished for all my life.”

It was nearly midnight when they arrived at Hurtfew Abbey. There was no sign of Strange. Lascelles went to bed, but Mr Norrell walked about the house, examining the condition of certain spells that had long been in place.

Next morning at breakfast Lascelles said, “I have been wondering if there were ever magical duels in the past? Struggles between two magicians? – that sort of thing.”

Mr Norrell sighed. “It is difficult to know. Ralph Stokesey seems to have fought two or three magicians by magic – one a very powerful Scottish magician, the Magician of Athodel.2 Catherine of Winchester was once driven to send a young magician to Granada by magic. He kept disturbing her with inconvenient proposals of marriage when she wanted to study and Granada was the furthest place she could think of at the time. Then there is the curious tale of the Cumbrian charcoal-burner …”3

“And did such duels ever end in the death of one of the magicians?”

“What?” Mr Norrell stared at him, horror-struck. “No! That is to say, I do not know. I do not think so.”

Lascelles smiled. “Yet the magic must exist surely? If you gave your mind to it, I dare say you could think of a half a dozen spells that would do the trick. It would be like a common duel with pistols or swords. There would be no question of a prosecution afterwards. Besides, the victor’s friends and servants would be perfectly justified in helping him shroud the matter in all possible secrecy.”

Mr Norrell was silent. Then he said, “It will not come to that.”

Lascelles laughed. “My dear Mr Norrell! What else can it possibly come to?”