He shook hands with all of them and was a little taken aback when Davey, who for all his strength and size was as sentimental as a schoolgirl, insisted on embracing him and actually shed tears. Lucas gave him a bottle of Mr Norrell’s best claret as a parting gift.

Childermass led Brewer out of the stables. The moon had risen. He had no difficulty in following the sweep out of the pleasure-grounds into the park. He was just crossing over the bridge when the sudden realization came upon him that there was magic going on. It was as if a thousand trumpets had sounded in his ear or a dazzling light had shone out of the darkness. The world was entirely different from what it had been a moment before, but what that difference was he could not at first make out. He looked round.

Directly above the park and house there was a patch of night-sky shoved in where it did not belong. The constellations were broken. New stars hung there – stars that Childermass had never seen before. They were, presumably, the stars of Strange’s Eternal Darkness.

He took one last look at Hurtfew Abbey and galloped away.

All the clocks began to strike at the same moment. This in itself was extraordinary enough. For fifteen years Lucas had been trying to persuade the clocks of Hurtfew to tell the hour together and they had never done so until this moment. But what o’clock it might be was hard to say. The clocks struck on and on, long past twelve, telling the time of a strange, new era.

“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.”