Strange said, "They are made of sand and sea-water and magic, and they will last as long as there is work for them to do. Captain Gilbey, get one of the boats to take a message to the Captain of the False Prelate False Prelate to say that his men should lash the horses to the ship, as many of them as they can. The horses will pull the ship off the shoal." to say that his men should lash the horses to the ship, as many of them as they can. The horses will pull the ship off the shoal."

"Oh!" said Captain Gilbey. "Very well. Yes, of course."

Within half an hour of the message reaching the False Prelate False Prelate, the ship was clear of the shoal and the sailors were busy putting the sails to rights and doing the thousand and one things which sailors do (things which are quite as mysterious in their way as the actions of magicians). However, it ought to be said that the magic did not work quite as Strange intended. He had not imagined there would be much difficulty in capturing the horses. He supposed that the ship would have plenty of ropes to make the halters and he had tried to regulate the magic so that the horses would be as biddable as possible. But sailors in general do not know much of horses. They know the sea and that is all. Some of the sailors did their best to catch hold of the horses and harness them, but many had not the least idea how to begin or they were too afraid of the silvery, ghostly creatures to go anywhere near them. Of the hundred horses that Strange created only about twenty were eventually harnessed to the ship. These twenty were certainly instrumental in pulling the False Prelate False Prelate off the sand, but equally useful was the great trough in the sandbank which appeared as more and more horses were created out of it. off the sand, but equally useful was the great trough in the sandbank which appeared as more and more horses were created out of it.

In Portsmouth opinion was divided over whether Strange had done something glorious in saving the False Prelate False Prelate or whether he had merely used the disaster to improve his own career. Many of the captains and officers about the place said that the magic he had done had been of a very showy sort and was obviously intended more to draw attention to his own talent and impress the Admiralty than to save the ship. Nor were they best pleased about the sand-horses. These did not just disappear when their work was done, as Strange had said they would; instead they swam about Spithead for a day and a half, after which they lay down and became sandbanks in new and entirely unexpected places. The masters and pilots of Portsmouth complained to the port-admiral that Strange had permanently altered the channels and shoals in Spithead so that the Navy would now have all the expense and trouble of taking soundings and surveying the anchorage again. or whether he had merely used the disaster to improve his own career. Many of the captains and officers about the place said that the magic he had done had been of a very showy sort and was obviously intended more to draw attention to his own talent and impress the Admiralty than to save the ship. Nor were they best pleased about the sand-horses. These did not just disappear when their work was done, as Strange had said they would; instead they swam about Spithead for a day and a half, after which they lay down and became sandbanks in new and entirely unexpected places. The masters and pilots of Portsmouth complained to the port-admiral that Strange had permanently altered the channels and shoals in Spithead so that the Navy would now have all the expense and trouble of taking soundings and surveying the anchorage again.

However, in London, where the Ministers knew as little of ships and seamanship as Strange, only one thing was clear: Strange had saved a ship, the loss of which would have cost the Admiralty a vast amount of money.

"One thing that the rescue of the False Prelate False Prelate demonstrates," remarked Sir Walter Pole to Lord Liverpool, "is the very great advantage of having a magician upon the spot, able to deal with a crisis as it occurs. I know that we considered sending Norrell somewhere and were forced to give it up, but what of Strange?" demonstrates," remarked Sir Walter Pole to Lord Liverpool, "is the very great advantage of having a magician upon the spot, able to deal with a crisis as it occurs. I know that we considered sending Norrell somewhere and were forced to give it up, but what of Strange?"

Lord Liverpool considered this. "I think," he said, "we could only justify sending Mr Strange to serve with one of the generals if we were reasonably confident of that general shortly achieving some sort of success against the French. Anything else would be an unforgivable waste of Mr Strange's talents which, G.o.d knows, we need badly enough in London. Frankly the choice is not great. Really there is no one but Lord Wellington."

"Oh, quite!"

Lord Wellington was in Portugal with his army and so his opinion could not be easily ascertained, but by an odd coincidence his wife lived at no. 11 Harley-street, just opposite Sir Walter's own house. When Sir Walter went home that evening he knocked at Lady Wellington's door and asked her ladyship what she thought Lord Wellington would say to the idea of a magician. But Lady Wellington, a small, unhappy person whose opinion was not much valued by her husband, did not know.

Strange, on the other hand, was delighted with the proposal. Arabella, though somewhat less delighted, gave her a.s.sent very readily. The greatest obstacle to Strange's going proved to be, to no one's great surprize, Norrell. In the past year Mr Norrell had grown to rely a great deal upon his pupil. He consulted Strange upon all those matters which in bygone days had been referred to Drawlight and Lascelles. Mr Norrell talked of nothing but Mr Strange when Strange was away, and talked to no one But But Strange when Strange was present. His feelings of attachment seemed all the stronger for being entirely new; he had never felt truly comfortable in any one's society before. If, in a crowded drawing-room or ballroom, Strange contrived to escape for a quarter of an hour, Mr Norrell would send Drawlight after him to discover where he had gone and whom he was talking to. Consequently, when Mr Norrell learnt there was a plan to send his only pupil and friend to the war he was shocked. "I am astonished, Sir Walter," he said, "that you should even suggest such a thing!" Strange when Strange was present. His feelings of attachment seemed all the stronger for being entirely new; he had never felt truly comfortable in any one's society before. If, in a crowded drawing-room or ballroom, Strange contrived to escape for a quarter of an hour, Mr Norrell would send Drawlight after him to discover where he had gone and whom he was talking to. Consequently, when Mr Norrell learnt there was a plan to send his only pupil and friend to the war he was shocked. "I am astonished, Sir Walter," he said, "that you should even suggest such a thing!"

"But every man must be prepared to make sacrifices for the sake of his country during a war," said Sir Walter with some irritation, "and thousands have already done so, you know."

"But they were soldiers soldiers!" cried Mr Norrell. "Oh! I dare say a soldier is very valuable in his way but that is nothing to the loss the Nation would sustain if any thing were to happen to Mr Strange! There is, I understand, a school at High Wycombe where 300 officers are trained every year. I would to G.o.d that I were so fortunate as to have 300 magicians to educate! If I had, then English magic might be in a much more promising situation than it is at present!"

After Sir Walter had tried and failed, Lord Liverpool and the Duke of York undertook to speak to Mr Norrell on the subject, but Mr Norrell could not be persuaded by any of them to view Strange's proposed departure with any thing other than horror.

"Have you considered, sir," said Strange, "the great respect that it will win for English magic?"

"Oh, I dare say it might," said Mr Norrell peevishly, "but nothing is so likely to evoke the Raven King and all that wild, mischievous sort of magic as the sight of an English magician upon a battlefield! People will begin to think that we raise fairy-spirits and consult with owls and bears. Whereas it is my hope for English magic that it should be regarded as a quiet, respectable sort of profession the sort of profession in fact . . ."

"But, sir," said Strange, hastily interrupting a speech he had heard a hundred times before, "I shall have no company of fairy knights at my back. And there are other considerations which we would do very wrong to ignore. You and I have often lamented that we are continually asked to do the same sorts of magic over and over again. I dare say the exigencies of the war will require me to do magic that I have not done before and, as we have often observed to each other, sir, the practice of magic makes the theory so much easier to understand."

But the two magicians were too different in temperament ever to come to an agreement upon such a point. Strange spoke of braving the danger in order to win glory for English magic. His language and metaphors were all drawn from games of chance and from war and were scarcely likely to find favour with Mr Norrell. Mr Norrell a.s.sured Mr Strange that he would find war very disagreeable. "One is often wet and cold upon a battlefield. You will like it a great deal less than you suppose."

For several weeks in January and February 1811 it seemed as if Mr Norrell's opposition would prevent Strange's going to war. The mistake that Sir Walter, Lord Liverpool, the Duke of York and Strange had all made was to appeal to Mr Norrell's n.o.bility, patriotism and sense of duty. There is no doubt that Mr Norrell possessed these virtues, but there were other principles which were stronger in him and which would always counter any higher faculty.

Fortunately there were two gentlemen at hand who knew how to manage matters rather better. Lascelles and Drawlight were as anxious as every body else that Strange should go to Portugal and in their opinion the best method to achieve it was to play upon Mr Norrell's anxiety over the fate of the Duke of Roxburghe's library.

This library had long been a thorn in Mr Norrell's side. It was one of the most important private libraries in the kingdom second only to Mr Norrell's own. It had a curious, poignant history. Some fifty years before, the Duke of Roxburghe, a most intelligent, civilized and respectable gentleman, had chanced to fall in love with the Queen's sister and had applied to the King for permission to marry her. For various reasons to do with court etiquette, form and precedence the King had refused. Heart-broken, the Duke and the Queen's sister made a solemn promise to love each other for ever and never upon any inducement to marry any one else. Whether the Queen's sister kept her side of the bargain I do not know, but the Duke retired to his castle in the Scottish borders and, to fill his lonely days, he began to collect rare books: exquisite illuminated mediaeval ma.n.u.scripts and editions of the very first printed books produced in the workshops of men of such genius as William Caxton of London and Valdarfer of Venice. By the early years of the century the Duke's library was one of the wonders of the world. His Grace was fond of poetry, chivalry, history and theology. He had no particular interest in magic, but all old books delighted him and it would have been very odd if one or two magical texts had not found their way into his library.

Mr Norrell had written to the Duke a number of times begging to be allowed to examine and perhaps purchase any books of magic which the Duke possessed. The Duke, however, felt no inclination to satisfy Mr Norrell's curiosity and, being immensely wealthy, he did not want Mr Norrell's money. Having been true to his promise to the Queen's sister through many a long year, the Duke had no children and no obvious heir. When he died a large number of his male relatives were seized by a strong conviction that they were the next Duke of Roxburghe. These gentlemen took their claims before the Committee of Privileges of the House of Lords. The Committee considered and came to the conclusion that the new Duke was either Major-General Ker or Sir James Innes, but as to which of them it might be the Committee was not quite certain and it settled itself to consider the matter further. By early 1811 it had still not come to a decision.

On a cold, wet Tuesday morning Mr Norrell was seated with Mr Lascelles and Mr Drawlight in the library at Hanover-square. Childerma.s.s was also in the room, writing letters to various Government departments upon Mr Norrell's behalf. Strange had gone to Twickenham with Mrs Strange to visit a friend.

Lascelles and Drawlight were speaking of the lawsuit between Ker and Innes. One or two seemingly random allusions upon Lascelles's part to the famous library caught Mr Norrell's attention.

"What do we know of these men?" he asked Lascelles. "Have they any interest in the practice of magic?"

Lascelles smiled. "You may be easy on that score, sir. I a.s.sure you the only thing that Innes or Ker cares for is to be Duke. I do not think I have ever seen either of them so much as open a book."

"Indeed? They do not care for books? Well, that is most rea.s.suring." Mr Norrell thought for a moment. "But supposing one of them were to come into possession of the Duke's library and chanced to find some rare magical text upon a shelf and become curious about it. People are curious about magic, you know. That has been one of the more regrettable consequences of my own success. This man might read a little and find himself inspired to try a spell or two. It is, after all, exactly how I began myself when as a boy of twelve I opened a book from my uncle's library and found inside a single page torn from a much older volume. The instant I read it, the conviction took hold of me that I must be a magician!"

"Indeed? That is most interesting," said Lascelles, in tones of complete boredom. "But it is hardly, I think, likely to happen to Innes or Ker. Innes must be in his seventies and Ker about the same. Neither man is in search of a new career."

"Oh! But have they no young relatives? Relatives who are perhaps avid readers of The Friends of English Magic The Friends of English Magic and and The Modern Magician The Modern Magician? Relatives who would seize upon any books of magic the instant they laid eyes upon them! No, forgive me, Mr Lascelles, but I cannot regard the advanced age of the two gentlemen as any security at all!"

"Very well. But I doubt, sir, if these young thaumatomanes3whom you describe so vividly will have any opportunity to view the library. In order to pursue their claim to the dukedom, both Ker and Innes have incurred vast legal expenses. The first concern of the new Duke, whoever he may be, will be to pay off his lawyers. His first act upon entering Floors Castle will be to look around for something to sell.4 I shall be very much surprized if the library is not put up for sale within a week of the Committee giving its decision." I shall be very much surprized if the library is not put up for sale within a week of the Committee giving its decision."

"A book sale!" exclaimed Mr Norrell in alarm.

"What are you afraid of now?" asked Childerma.s.s, looking up from his writing. "A book sale is generally the thing most calculated to please you."

"Oh! but that was before," said Mr Norrell, "when no one in the kingdom had the least interest in books of magic except me, but now I fear a great many people might try to buy them. I dare say there might be accounts in The Times The Times."

"Oh!" cried Drawlight. "If the books are bought by someone else you may complain to the Ministers! You may complain to the Prince of Wales! It is not in the interests of the Nation that books of magic should be in any one's possession but your own, Mr Norrell."

"Except Strange," said Lascelles. "I do not think the Prince of Wales or the Ministers would have any objections to Strange's owning the books."

"That is true," agreed Drawlight. "I had forgot Strange."

Mr Norrell looked more alarmed than ever. "But Mr Strange will understand that it is proper for the books to be mine," he said. "They should be collected together in one library. They ought not to be separated." He looked about hopefully for someone to agree with him. "Naturally," he continued, "I shall have no objection to Mr Strange reading them. Everyone knows how many of my books my own precious books I have lent to Mr Strange. That is . . . I mean, it would depend upon the subject."

Drawlight, Lascelles and Childerma.s.s said nothing. They did indeed know how many books Mr Norrell had lent Mr Strange. They also knew how many he had withheld.

"Strange is a gentleman," said Lascelles. "He will behave as a gentleman and expect you to do the same. If the books are offered privately to you and you alone, then I think you may buy them, but if they are auctioned, he will feel ent.i.tled to bid against you."

Mr Norrell paused, looked at Lascelles and licked his lips nervously. "And how do you suppose the books will be sold? By auction or by private transaction?"

"Auction," said Lascelles, Drawlight and Childerma.s.s together.

Mr Norrell covered his face with his hands.

"Of course," said Lascelles, slowly as if the idea were just occurring to him at that moment, "if Strange were abroad, he would not be able to bid." He took a sip of his coffee. "Would he?"

Mr Norrell looked up with new hope in his face.

Suddenly it became highly desirable that Mr Strange should go to Portugal for a year or so.5 1 Among the forms of magic which Strange and Norrell performed in 1810 were: causing an area of sea in the Bay of Biscay to silt up and a vast wood of monstrous trees to appear there (thus destroying twenty French ships); causing unusual tides and winds to baffle French ships and destroy French crops and livestock; the fashioning of rain into fleets of ships, walled cities, gigantic figures, flights of angels, etc., etc., in order to frighten, confuse or charm French soldiers and sailors; bringing on night when the French were expecting day and vice versa.

All the above are listed in De Generibus Artium Magicarum Anglorum De Generibus Artium Magicarum Anglorum by Francis Sutton-Grove. by Francis Sutton-Grove.

2 The previous Secretary of War, Lord Castlereagh, had quarrelled violently with Mr Canning in late 1809. The two gentlemen had fought a duel, after which both had been obliged to resign from the Government. The present Secretary of War, Lord Liverpool, was in fact the same person as Lord Hawkesbury, who has been mentioned before in these pages. He had left off one t.i.tle and a.s.sumed another when his father died in December 1808.

3 Thaumatomane: a person possessed of a pa.s.sion for magic and wonders, Dictionary of the English Language Dictionary of the English Language by Samuel Johnson. by Samuel Johnson.

4 Floors Castle is the home of the Dukes of Roxburghe.

5 The Committee of Privileges eventually decided in favour of Sir James Innes and, just as Mr Lascelles had predicted, the new Duke immediately put the library up for sale.

The auction in the summer of 1812 (while Strange was in the Peninsula) was possibly the most notable bibliographic event since the burning of the library at Alexandria. It lasted for forty-one days and was the cause of at least two duels.

Among the Duke's books there were found seven magical texts, all of them extraordinary.

Rosa et Fons was a mystical meditation upon magic by an unknown fourteenth-century magician. was a mystical meditation upon magic by an unknown fourteenth-century magician.

Thomas de Dundelle, a hitherto undiscovered poem by Chretien de Troyes, was a colourful version of the life of Thomas Dundale, the Raven King's first human servant.

The Book of Loveday Ingham was an account of the day-to-day occupations of a fifteenth-century magician in Cambridge. was an account of the day-to-day occupations of a fifteenth-century magician in Cambridge.

Exercitatio Magica n.o.bilissima was a seventeenth-century attempt to describe all of English magic. was a seventeenth-century attempt to describe all of English magic.

The History of Seven was a very muddled work, partly in English, partly in Latin and partly in an unknown fairy language. Its age could not be guessed at, the author could not be identified and the purpose of the said author in writing the book was entirely obscure. It appeared to be, upon the whole, the history of a city in Faerie, called "Seven", but the information was presented in a very confusing style and the author would frequently break off from his narrative to accuse some unspecified person of having injured him in some mysterious way. These parts of the text more resembled an indignant letter than any thing else. was a very muddled work, partly in English, partly in Latin and partly in an unknown fairy language. Its age could not be guessed at, the author could not be identified and the purpose of the said author in writing the book was entirely obscure. It appeared to be, upon the whole, the history of a city in Faerie, called "Seven", but the information was presented in a very confusing style and the author would frequently break off from his narrative to accuse some unspecified person of having injured him in some mysterious way. These parts of the text more resembled an indignant letter than any thing else.

The Parliament of Women was an allegorical sixteenth-century description of the wisdom and magic that belongs particularly to women. was an allegorical sixteenth-century description of the wisdom and magic that belongs particularly to women.

But by far the most wonderful was The Mirrour of the Lyf of Ralph Stokesie The Mirrour of the Lyf of Ralph Stokesie, which along with a first edition of Boccaccio's Decameron Decameron was put up for auction on the last day. Even Mr Norrell had been entirely ignorant of the existence of this book until that day. It appeared to have been written by two authors, one a fifteenth-century magician called William Thorpe, the other Ralph Stokesey's fairy servant, Col Tom Blue. For this treasure Mr Norrell paid the quite unheard-of sum of 2,100 guineas. was put up for auction on the last day. Even Mr Norrell had been entirely ignorant of the existence of this book until that day. It appeared to have been written by two authors, one a fifteenth-century magician called William Thorpe, the other Ralph Stokesey's fairy servant, Col Tom Blue. For this treasure Mr Norrell paid the quite unheard-of sum of 2,100 guineas.

Such was the general respect for Mr Norrell that not a single gentleman in the room bid against him. But a lady bid against him for every book. In the weeks before the auction Arabella Strange had been very busy. She had written numerous letters to Strange's relations and paid visits to all her friends in London in attempt to borrow enough money to buy some of the books for her husband, but Norrell outbid her for every one.

Sir Walter Scott, the author, was present and he described the end of the auction. "Such was Mrs Strange's disappointment at losing The Life of Ralph Stokesey The Life of Ralph Stokesey that she sat in tears. At that moment Mr Norrell walked by with the book in his hand. Not a word, not a glance did this man have for his pupil's wife. I do not know when I last saw behaviour so little to my liking. Several people observed this treatment and I have heard some harsh things said of Norrell. Even Lord Portishead, whose admiration of the magician knows no bounds, admits that he thinks Norrell has behaved remarkably ill towards Mrs Strange." that she sat in tears. At that moment Mr Norrell walked by with the book in his hand. Not a word, not a glance did this man have for his pupil's wife. I do not know when I last saw behaviour so little to my liking. Several people observed this treatment and I have heard some harsh things said of Norrell. Even Lord Portishead, whose admiration of the magician knows no bounds, admits that he thinks Norrell has behaved remarkably ill towards Mrs Strange."

But it was not only Mr Norrell's treatment of Mrs Strange that drew unfavourable comment. In the weeks that followed the auction scholars and historians waited to hear what new knowledge was to be found in the seven wonderful books. In particular they were in high hopes that The Mirrour of the Lyf of Ralph Stokesey The Mirrour of the Lyf of Ralph Stokesey would provide answers to some of the most puzzling mysteries in English magic. It was commonly supposed that Mr Norrell would reveal his new discoveries in the pages of would provide answers to some of the most puzzling mysteries in English magic. It was commonly supposed that Mr Norrell would reveal his new discoveries in the pages of The Friends of English Magic The Friends of English Magic or that he would cause copies of the books to be printed or that he would cause copies of the books to be printed.He did neither of these things. One or two people wrote him letters asking him specific questions. He did not reply. When letters appeared in the newspapers complaining of this behaviour he was most indignant. After all he was simply acting as he had always done acquiring valuable books and then hiding them away where no man else could see them. The difference was that in the days when he was an unknown gentleman no one had thought any thing of it, but now the eyes of the world were upon him. His silence was wondered at and people began to remember other occasions when Mr Norrell had acted in a rude or arrogant manner.

29.

At the house of Jose Estoril JanuaryMarch 1811 "I HAVE BEEN THINKING, sir, that my leaving for the Peninsula will be the cause of many changes in your dealings with the War Office," said Strange. "I am afraid that when I am gone you will not find it so convenient to have people knocking at the door at all hours of the day and night, asking for this or that piece of magic to be performed forthwith. There will be no one but you to attend to them. When will you sleep? I think we must persuade them to some other way of doing things. If I can be of any a.s.sistance in arranging matters, I should be glad to do so. Perhaps we should invite Lord Liverpool to dine one evening this week?" HAVE BEEN THINKING, sir, that my leaving for the Peninsula will be the cause of many changes in your dealings with the War Office," said Strange. "I am afraid that when I am gone you will not find it so convenient to have people knocking at the door at all hours of the day and night, asking for this or that piece of magic to be performed forthwith. There will be no one but you to attend to them. When will you sleep? I think we must persuade them to some other way of doing things. If I can be of any a.s.sistance in arranging matters, I should be glad to do so. Perhaps we should invite Lord Liverpool to dine one evening this week?"

"Oh, yes indeed!" said Mr Norrell in high good humour with this proof of Strange's considerateness. "You must be there. You explain everything so well! You have only to say a thing and Lord Liverpool understands immediately!"

"Then shall I write to his lordship?"

"Yes, do! Do!"

It was the first week of January. The date of Strange's departure was not yet fixed, but was likely to be soon. Strange sat down and wrote the invitation. Lord Liverpool replied very promptly and the next day but one saw him at Hanover-square.

It was the habit of Mr Norrell and Jonathan Strange to spend the hour before dinner in Mr Norrell's library and it was in this room that they received his lordship. Childerma.s.s was also present, ready to act as clerk, counsellor, messenger or servant just as circ.u.mstances should require.

Lord Liverpool had never seen Mr Norrell's library and before he sat down he took a little turn about the room. "I had been told, sir," he said, "that your library was one of the Wonders of the Modern World, but I never imagined any thing half so extensive."

Mr Norrell was very well pleased. Lord Liverpool was exactly the sort of guest he liked one who admired the books but shewed no inclination to take them down from the shelves and read them.

Then Strange said, addressing Mr Norrell, "We have not spoken yet, sir, about the books I should take to the Peninsula. I have made a list of forty t.i.tles, but if you think it can be improved upon I should be glad of your advice." He pulled a folded sheet from a jumble of papers on a table and handed it to Mr Norrell.

It was not a list to delight Mr Norrell's soul. It was full of first thoughts crossed-out, second thoughts crossed-out and third thoughts put in at angles and made to wriggle around other words that were in the way. There were ink blots, t.i.tles misspellt, authors misnamed and, most confusing of all, three lines of a riddle-poem that Strange had begun composing as a farewell-present for Arabella. Nevertheless it was not this that made Mr Norrell grow pale. It had never occurred to him before that Strange would need books in Portugal. The idea of forty precious volumes being taken into a country in a state of war where they might get burnt, blown up, drowned or dusty was almost too horrible to contemplate. Mr Norrell did not know a great deal about war, but he suspected that soldiers are not generally your great respecters of books. They might put their dirty fingers on them. They might tear them! They might horror of horrors! read them and try the spells! Could soldiers read? Mr Norrell did not know. But with the fate of the entire Continent at stake and Lord Liverpool in the room, he realized how very difficult it would be impossible in fact to refuse to lend them.

He turned with a look of desperate appeal to Childerma.s.s.

Childerma.s.s shrugged.

Lord Liverpool continued to gaze about him in a calm manner. He appeared to be thinking that the temporary absence of forty books or so would scarcely be noticed among so many thousands.

"I should not wish to take more than forty," continued Strange in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Very wise, sir," said Lord Liverpool. "Very wise. Do not take more than you can conveniently carry about."

"Carry about!" exclaimed Mr Norrell, more shocked than ever. "But surely you do not intend to take them from place to place? You must put them in a library the moment you arrive. A library in a castle will be best. A stout, well-defended castle . . ."

"But I fear they will do me little good in a library," said Strange with infuriating calmness. "I shall be in camps and on battlefields. And so must they."

"Then you must place them in a box!" said Mr Norrell. "A very st.u.r.dy wooden box or perhaps an iron chest! Yes, iron will be best. We can have one made specially. And then . . ."

"Ah, forgive me, Mr Norrell," interrupted Lord Liverpool, "but I strongly advise Mr Strange against the iron chest. He must not trust to any provision being made for him in the carts. The soldiers need the carts for their equipment, maps, food, ammunition and so on. Mr Strange will occasion the Army the least inconvenience if he carries all his possessions on a mule or donkey as the officers do." He turned to Strange. "You will need a good, strong mule for your baggage and your servant. Purchase some saddlebags at Hewley and Ratt's and place the books in them. Military saddlebags are most capacious. Besides, on a cart the books would almost certainly be stolen. Soldiers, I am sorry to say, steal everything." He thought for a moment and then added, "Or at least ours do."

How the dinner went after that Mr Norrell knew very little. He was dimly aware that Strange and his lordship talked a great deal and laughed a great deal. Several times he heard Strange say, "Well, that is decided then!" And he heard his lordship reply, "Oh, certainly!" But what they were talking about, Mr Norrell neither knew nor cared. He wished he had never come to London. He wished he had never undertaken to revive English magic. He wished he had stayed at Hurtfew Abbey, reading and doing magic for his own pleasure. None of it, he thought, was worth the loss of forty books.

After Lord Liverpool and Strange had gone he went to the library to look at the forty books and hold them and treasure them while he could.

Childerma.s.s was still there. He had taken his dinner at one of the tables and was now doing the household accounts. As Mr Norrell entered, he looked up and grinned. "I believe Mr Strange will do very well in the war, sir. He has already out-manoeuvred you."

On a bright, moonlit night in early February a British ship called St St Serlo's Serlo's Blessing Blessing1 sailed up the Tagus and landed at Black-horse square in the middle of the city of Lisbon. Among the first to disembark were Strange and his servant, Jeremy Johns. Strange had never been in a foreign country before and he found that the consciousness of being so now and the important military and naval bustle that was going on all around him was quite exhilarating. He was eager to begin doing magic. sailed up the Tagus and landed at Black-horse square in the middle of the city of Lisbon. Among the first to disembark were Strange and his servant, Jeremy Johns. Strange had never been in a foreign country before and he found that the consciousness of being so now and the important military and naval bustle that was going on all around him was quite exhilarating. He was eager to begin doing magic.

"I wonder where Lord Wellington is," he said to Jeremy Johns. "Do you suppose any of these fellows will know?" He looked with some curiosity at a vast, half-built arch at one end of the square. It had a very military appearance and he would not have been at all surprized to learn that Wellington was somewhere at the rear of it.

"But it is two o'clock in the morning, sir," said Jeremy. "His lordship will be asleep."

"Oh, do you think so? With the fate of all Europe in his hands? I suppose you may be right."

Reluctantly, Strange agreed that it would be better to go to the hotel now and look for Lord Wellington in the morning.

They had been recommended to a hotel in Shoemaker-street which belonged to a Mr Prideaux, a Cornishman. Mr Prideaux's guests were almost all British officers who had just returned to Portugal from England or who were waiting for ships to take them on leave of absence. It was Mr Prideaux's intention that during their stay at his hotel the officers should feel as much at home as possible. In this he was only partly successful. Do whatsoever he might, Mr Prideaux found that Portugal continually intruded itself upon the notice of his guests. The wallpaper and furnishings of the hotel might all have been brought originally from London, but a Portuguese sun had shone on them for five years and faded them in a peculiarly Portuguese manner. Mr Prideaux might instruct the cook to prepare an English bill of fare but the cook was Portuguese and there was always more pepper and oil in the dishes than the guests expected. Even the guests' boots had a faintly Portuguese air after the Portuguese bootboy had blacked them.

The next morning Strange rose rather late. He ate a large breakfast and then strolled about for an hour or so. Lisbon proved to be a city well provided with arcaded squares, elegant modern buildings, statues, theatres and shops. He began to think that war could not be so very dreadful after all.

As he returned to the hotel he saw four or five British officers, gathered in the doorway, conversing eagerly together. This was just the opportunity he had hoped for. He went up to them, begged their pardon for interrupting, explained who he was and asked where in Lisbon Lord Wellington might be found.

The officers turned and gave him a rather surprized look as if they thought the question a wrong one, though he could not tell why it should be. "Lord Wellington is not in Lisbon," said one, a man in the blue jacket and white breeches of the Hussars.

"Oh! When is he coming back?" asked Strange.