“They all went everywhere,” Tonino explained. “Won’t their mothers know?”

“Most people,” said Chrestomanci, “can’t see souls. It takes magic. Oh well. We’ll have to do it the hard way.”

He turned round and snapped his fingers. The young man who acted as Chrestomanci’s secretary jumped into existence further up the ward. He was obviously not used to this kind of summons. He was in the middle of tying a spotted bow tie and almost dropped it. Cat could see him staring round at the mothers, the babies and the Mother Superior, and then at the filthy and dishevelled boys, and trying to look as if he saw such things every day.

“Tom,” Chrestomanci said to him, “be a good fellow and go round and get the names and addresses of all the mothers and every baby here, will you?”

“Certainly, sir,” Tom said, trying to look efficient and understanding.

Some of the mothers looked indignant at this, and Mother Justinia said, “Is that really necessary? We like to be confidential here.”

“Absolutely necessary,” Chrestomanci said. He raised his voice so that all the mothers could hear him. “Some of your babies are going to grow up with very powerful magic. They might have strange memories, too, which could frighten both you and them. We want to be able to help them if this happens. We also want to educate them properly in the use of their magic. But, since none of us know which children are going to have these gifts, we are going to have to keep track of you all. So we are going to give each baby here a government grant of five hundred pounds a year until he or she is eighteen. Does this made you feel better about it?”

“You mean they get the money if they have magic or not?” somebody asked.

“Exactly,” said Chrestomanci. “Of course they only get the grant when they come to Chrestomanci Castle once a year for magical testing.”

“Mine might have magic anyway,” someone else murmured. “My mother’s father—”

The twins’ mother said, “Well, I’m taking the money. I was at my wits’ end how to give them all they need. I wasn’t reckoning on twins. Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, madam,” Chrestomanci said, bowing to her. “Tom will give you any further details.” Tom, who had just conjured himself a notebook and a pen, looked pleading and alarmed at this. Chrestomanci ignored him. “He can cope,” he said to Cat. “That’s what he’s paid for. You and Tonino look as if you need a bath and a square meal. Let’s take you both home.”

“But—” said Cat.

“But what?” asked Chrestomanci.

Cat did not know how to put the shame he felt. He was fairly sure he had been starting to turn into someone like Neville Spiderman, but he did not dare tell Chrestomanci that. “I don’t deserve anything,” he said.

“No more than those twins deserve five hundred pounds a year each,” Chrestomanci said cheerfully. “I don’t know what’s biting you, Cat, but it seems to me that you’ve managed rather well in a dangerous situation without thinking you can rely on magic to help you. Think about it.”