“The nameless slave shall wear a silver crown,” gasped Vinculus – Davey’s arm tightening about his throat rendered his oration decidedly less impressive than before. Vinculus made one last effort and pulled the upper part of his body free of Davey’s grasp and shouted, “The nameless slave shall be a king in a strange country…” Then Lucas and Davey half-pulled, half-carried him out of the room.

Mr Norrell went and sat down in the chair by the fire. He picked up his book again but he found that he was a great deal too agitated to return to his reading. He fidgeted about, bit his fingernails, walked about the room, returned constantly to those volumes which had been displaced in the struggle and examined them for signs of damage (there were none), but most of all he went to the windows and peered out anxiously to see if any one was watching the house. At three o’clock the room began to grow dusky. Lucas returned to light the candles and mend the fire and just behind him was Childermass.

“Ah!” cried Mr Norrell. “At last! Have you heard what happened? I am betrayed on all sides! Other magicians keep watch upon me and plot my downfall! My idle servants forget their duties. It is a matter of complete indifference to them whether my throat is cut or not! And as for you, you villain, you are the very worst of all! I tell you this man appeared so suddenly in the room – as if by magic! And when I rang the bell and cried out no one came! You must put aside all your other work. Your only task now is to discover what spells this man employed to gain entry to the house! Where did he learn his magic? What does he know?”

Childermass gave his master an ironical look. “Well, if that is my only task, it is done already. There was no magic. One of the kitchenmaids left the pantry window open and the sorcerer climbed in and crept about the house until he found you. That is all. No one came because he had cut the bell-cord and Lucas and the others did not hear you shout. They heard nothing until he started to rant and then they came immediately. Is that not so, Lucas?”

Lucas, kneeling at the hearth with the poker in his hand, agreed that that was exactly how it had been. “And so I tried to tell you, sir. Only you would not listen.”

But Mr Norrell had worked himself up into such a frenzy of anxiety over Vinculus’s supposed magical powers that this explanation had at first little power to soothe him. “Oh!” he said. “But still I am certain he means me harm. Indeed he has done me great harm already.”

“Yes,” agreed Childermass, “very great harm! For while he was in the pantry he ate three meat-pies.”

“And two cream cheeses,” added Lucas.

Mr Norrell was forced to admit to himself that this did not seem much like the actions of a great magician, but still he could not be entirely easy until he had vented his anger upon someone. Childermass and Lucas being most conveniently to hand, he began with them and treated them to a long speech, full of invective against Vinculus as the greatest villain who ever lived and ending with several strong hints about the bad ends that impudent and neglectful servants came to.