Far away in the Oblong Office Drumknott put the midday edition of the Times in front of Lord Vetinari and looked down at Mr Cheerysson’s latest frantic petition, saying, ‘They’ve torched two more clacks towers, my lord, but so far no one has died. Except on their side, of course. Young dwarfs, badly advised. They should have known better.’

The silence enveloped Lord Vetinari. ‘Indeed,’ said his lordship, ‘but it is easy to be an idiot when you are seventeen and I would warrant that the grags who put them up to it are much older. There is no sense in breaking the arrow if, by acting sensibly, you may capture the archer. I’ll leave the Cheerysson boy thinking about his fortune in the Tanty for a while and will make a note to have him brought over to talk to me in a month or two. If he’s clever, his parents won’t be grieving, and I’ll have a number of names and, above all, the goodwill of his parents. Always worth thinking about, don’t you agree, Drumknott?’

‘Damage to property,’ said Drumknott speculatively.

‘Yes,’ said Lord Vetinari. ‘That’s it.’

A few days later, Crossly quietly entered the master bedroom of the house in Scoone Avenue, nudged Moist, and, when that had no effect, finally pinched his ear in order to get his attention.

He whispered, ‘Excuse me, sir, but his lordship requires your presence at the palace immediately, and I am sure that neither of us would like to see the mistress troubled at this time, yes?’

At home and, for once, in bed at the same time as Moist, Adora Belle Dearheart was gently snoring, although she was certain that she did not.

Moist groaned. It was the crack of seven and he was allergic to the concept of two seven o’clocks in one day. Nevertheless he dressed with a speed and silence trained by experience, walked noiselessly downstairs, left the house and got a trolley bus to the palace. He ran up the steps to the Oblong Office, reflecting that, day or night, he had never seen it empty. This time Lord Vetinari was at his desk, looking, if the word could be applied to Lord Vetinari, chipper.

‘Good morning, good morning, Mister Lipwig! Rather speedier than last time, yes? I imagine you haven’t had time to look at your newspaper today? Something rather droll has happened.’

‘Is it something interesting to do with the railway, perhaps, my lord?’

Lord Vetinari looked puzzled for a moment and then said, ‘Well, there is something, yes, since you ask.’

He sniffed as if what he was dealing with was not in the great scheme of things all that important and continued, ‘I am being told that everybody is going to Harry King’s compound to see the marvel of the steaming train, which seems to have caught the public fancy. I understand that Sir Harry, with his usual business acumen, is already turning this into a commercial enterprise.

‘Of course, that is news, but when you do indeed get hold of a newspaper you might notice a small apology from the editor of the Times to the effect that the crossword has been removed, as the compiler is stepping down for a while owing to the pressures of keeping up the standard of achievable games that are nevertheless sufficiently taxing. Of course, as a rule I do not gloat, but I fear she has met her match. I shall ask Drumknott to arrange for a box of chocolates to be sent to her, from a secret admirer. After all, I am generous in victory!’