Jonathan Strange And Mr Norrell Part 20

"Are you sure, sir? It is two old ladies that live upon that side."

"Ha! That proves nothing. Age is no guarantee of any thing these days."

With this remark the magician appeared suddenly to grow tired of this conversation. He turned back to his book and started reading.

Jeremy waited a moment and then, since his master appeared to have forgotten all about him, he went away again.

"I have not thanked you yet, sir," said Stephen to the gentleman, "for these wonderful gifts."

"Ah, Stephen! I am glad I have pleased you. The diadem, I confess, is your own hat transformed by magic. I would have greatly preferred to give you a real crown, but I was entirely unable to lay my hand upon one at such short notice. You are disappointed, I dare say. Although now I come to think of it, the King of England has several crowns, and rarely makes use of any of them."

He raised his hands in the air and pointed upwards with two immensely long white fingers.

"Oh!" cried Stephen, suddenly realizing what the gentleman was about. "If you think of casting spells to bring the King of England here with one of his crowns which I imagine you do, since you are all kindness then I beg that you will spare yourself the trouble! I have no need of one at the moment, as you know, and the King of England is such an old gentleman would it not perhaps be kinder to let him stay at home?"

"Oh, very well!" said the gentleman, lowering his hands.

For lack of any other occupation, he rea.s.sumed his abuse of the new magician. Nothing about the man pleased him. He ridiculed the book he was reading, found fault with the make of his boots, and was entirely unable to approve of his height (despite the fact that he was exactly the same height as the gentleman with the thistle-down hair as was proved when they both happened to stand up at the same time.) Stephen was anxious to return to his duties in Harley-street, but he feared that if he left them alone together then the gentleman might start throwing something more substantial than paper at the magician. "Shall you and I walk to Harley-street together, sir?" he asked. "Then you may tell me how your n.o.ble actions have moulded London and made it glorious. That is always so very entertaining. I never grow tired of hearing about it."

"Gladly, Stephen! Gladly!"

"Is it far, sir?"

"Is what far, Stephen?"

"Harley-street, sir. I do not know where we are."

"We are in Soho-square and no, it is not far at all!"

When they reached the house in Harley-street the gentleman took a most affectionate farewell of Stephen, urging him not to feel sad at this parting and reminding him that they would meet again that very night at Lost-hope. ". . . when a most charming ceremony will be held in the belfry of the Easternmost Tower. It commemorates an occasion which happened oh! five hundred years ago or so when I cleverly contrived to capture the little children of my enemy and we pushed them out of the belfry to their deaths. Tonight we will re-enact this great triumph! We will dress straw dolls in the children's blood-stained clothes and fling them down on to the paving stones and then we will sing and dance and rejoice over their destruction!"

"And do you perform this ceremony every year, sir? I feel sure I would have remembered it if I had seen it before. It is so very . . . striking."

"I am glad you think so. I perform it whenever I think of it. Of course it was a great deal more striking when we used real children."

1 Stephen described how, not long after Julius Caesar had arrived upon these sh.o.r.es, he had left his army and wandered into a little green wood. He had not gone far when he came upon two young men, sighing deeply and striking the ground in their frustration. Both were remarkably handsome and both were dressed in the finest linens dyed with the rarest dyes. Julius Caesar was so struck with the n.o.ble appearance of these young men that he asked them all sorts of questions and they answered him candidly and without the least diffidence. They explained how they were both plaintiffs at a court nearby. The court was held every Quarter Day to settle arguments and punish wrongdoers among their people, but unfortunately the race to which they belonged was a peculiarly wicked and quarrelsome one, and just at present no suits could be heard because they could not find an impartial judge; every venerable person among them either stood accused of a crime, or else had been found to have some other close connexion with one of the suits. On hearing this Caesar was struck with pity for them and immediately offered to be their judge himself to which they eagerly agreed.

They led him a short way through the wood to a gra.s.sy hollow between smooth green hills. Here he found a thousand or so of the handsomest men and women that he had ever seen. He sat down upon the hillside and heard all their complaints and accusations; and when he had heard them he gave judgements so wise that everyone was delighted and no one went away feeling himself ill-used.

So pleased were they with Julius Caesar's judgements that they offered him any thing he liked as payment. Julius Caesar thought for a moment and said that he would like to rule the world. This they promised him.

27.

The magician's wife December 1809January 1810 THERE WERE NOW two magicians in London to be ad-mired and made much of and I doubt if it will come as much surprize to any one to learn that, of the two, London preferred Mr Strange. Strange was everyone's idea of what a magician ought to be. He was tall; he was charming; he had a most ironical smile; and, unlike Mr Norrell, he talked a great deal about magic and had no objection to answering any body's questions on the subject. Mr and Mrs Strange attended a great many evening-and dinner-parties, and at some point in the proceedings Strange would generally oblige the company with a shew of one of the minor sorts of magic. The most popular magic he did was to cause visions to appear upon the surface of water.1Unlike Norrell, he did not use a silver basin which was the traditional vessel for seeing visions in. Strange said that really one could see so little in a basin that it was scarcely worth the trouble of casting the spells. He preferred instead to wait until the servants had cleared the dishes off the table and removed the cloth, then he would tip a gla.s.s of water or wine over the table and conjure visions into the pool. Fortunately his hosts were generally so delighted with the magic that they hardly ever complained of their stained, spoilt tables and carpets.

For their part Mr and Mrs Strange were settled in London much to their satisfaction. They had taken a house in Soho-square and Arabella was deep in all the pleasant cares connected with a new home: commissioning elegant new furniture from the cabinet-makers, entreating her friends to help her to some steady servants and going every day to the shops.

One morning in mid-December she received a message from one of the shopmen at Haig and Chippendale's Upholstery (a most attentive person) to say that a bronze silk with alternate satin and watered stripes had just arrived in the shop and he believed it might be the very thing for Mrs Strange's drawing-room curtains. This necessitated a little re-organization of Arabella's day.

"It appears from Mr Sumner's description to be very elegant," she told Strange at breakfast, "and I expect to like it very much. But if I chuse bronze-coloured silk for the curtains, then I believe I must give up any notion of having a wine-coloured velvet for the chaise-longue. I do not think bronze-colour and wine-colour will look well together. So I shall to go to Flint and Clark's to look at the wine-coloured velvet again, and see if I can bear to give it up. Then I will go to Haig and Chippendale's. But that means I will have no time to visit your aunt which I really ought to do as she is leaving for Edinburgh this morning. I want to thank her for finding Mary for us."

"Mmm?" said Strange, who was eating hot rolls and preserves, and reading Curiose Observations upon the Anatomie of Faeries Curiose Observations upon the Anatomie of Faeries by Holgarth and Pickle. by Holgarth and Pickle.2 "Mary. The new maid. You saw her last night."

"Ah," said Strange, turning a page.

"She seems a nice, pleasant girl with quiet ways. I am sure we will be very happy with her. So, as I was saying, I would be very grateful, Jonathan, if you would call upon your aunt this morning. You can walk down to Henrietta-street after breakfast and thank her for Mary. Then you can come to Haig and Chippendale's and wait for me there. Oh! And could you look in at Wedgwood and Byerley's and ask the people when the new dinner-service will be ready? It will be scarcely any trouble. It is very nearly on your way." She looked at him doubtfully. "Jonathan, are you listening to me?"

"Mmm?" said Strange, looking up. "Oh, entirely!"

So Arabella, attended by one of the footmen, walked to Wig-more-street where Flint and Clark had their establishment. But on this second viewing of the wine-coloured velvet she concluded that, though very handsome, it was altogether too sombre. So then she walked on, all antic.i.p.ation, to St Martin's-lane to behold the bronze-coloured silk. When she arrived at Haig and Chippendale's she found the shopman waiting for her, but not her husband. The shopman was most apologetic but Mr Strange had not been there all morning.

She went out into the street again.

"George, do you see your master anywhere?" she asked the footman.

"No, madam."

A grey rain was beginning to fall. A sort of premonition inspired her to look in at the window of a bookseller's. There she discovered Strange, talking energetically to Sir Walter Pole. So she went into the shop, bid Sir Walter good morning and sweetly inquired of her husband if he had visited his aunt or looked in at Wedgwood and Byerley's.

Strange seemed somewhat perplexed by the question. He looked down and discovered that he had a large book in his hand. He frowned at it as if he could not imagine how it had got there. "I would would have done so, my love, of course," he said, "only Sir Walter has been talking to me all this while which has quite prevented me from beginning." have done so, my love, of course," he said, "only Sir Walter has been talking to me all this while which has quite prevented me from beginning."

"It has been entirely my fault," Sir Walter hastily a.s.sured Arabella. "We have a problem with our blockade. It is the usual sort of thing and I have been telling Mr Strange about it in the hope he and Mr Norrell will be able to help us."

"And can you help?" asked Arabella.

"Oh, I should think so," said Strange.

Sir Walter explained that the British Government had received intelligence that some French s.h.i.+ps possibly as many as ten had slipped through the British blockade. No one knew where they had gone or what they intended to do when they got there. Nor did the Government know where to find Admiral Armingcroft who was supposed to prevent this sort of thing happening. The Admiral and his fleet of ten frigates and two s.h.i.+ps of the line had quite disappeared presumably he had gone in pursuit of the French. There was a promising young captain, presently stationed at Madeira, and if the Admiralty had only been able to discover what was happening and where where it was happening, they would have gladly put Captain Lightwood in charge of four or five more s.h.i.+ps and sent him there. Lord Mulgrave had asked Admiral Greenwax what he thought they ought to do and Admiral Greenwax had asked the Ministers and the Ministers said that the Admiralty ought to consult Mr Strange and Mr Norrell immediately. it was happening, they would have gladly put Captain Lightwood in charge of four or five more s.h.i.+ps and sent him there. Lord Mulgrave had asked Admiral Greenwax what he thought they ought to do and Admiral Greenwax had asked the Ministers and the Ministers said that the Admiralty ought to consult Mr Strange and Mr Norrell immediately.

"I would not have you think that the Admiralty is entirely helpless without Mr Strange," smiled Sir Walter. "They have done what they can. They sent one of the clerks, a Mr Petrofax, to Greenwich to seek out a childhood friend of Admiral Arming-croft's to ask him, with his superior knowledge of the Admiral's character, what he thought the Admiral would do under such circ.u.mstances. But when Mr Petrofax got to Greenwich the Admiral's childhood friend was drunk in bed, and Mr Petrofax was not sure that he understood the question."

"I dare say Norrell and I will be able to suggest something," said Strange, thoughtfully, "but I think I should like to see the problem on a map."

"I have all the necessary maps and papers at my house. One of our servants will bring them to Hanover-square later today and then perhaps you will be so kind as to talk to Norrell . . ."

"Oh! But we can do that now!" said Strange. "Arabella does not mind waiting a few moments! You do not mind, do you?" he said to his wife. "I am meeting Mr Norrell at two o'clock and I believe that if I can explain the problem to him straightaway then we may be able to return an answer to the Admiralty before dinner."

Arabella, like a sweet, compliant woman and good wife, put all thoughts of her new curtains aside for the moment and a.s.sured both gentlemen that in such a cause it was no trouble to her to wait. It was settled that Mr and Mrs Strange would accompany Sir Walter to his house in Harley-street.

Strange took out his watch and looked at it. "Twenty minutes to Harley-street. Three-quarters of an hour to examine the problem. Then another fifteen minutes to Soho-square. Yes, there is plenty of time."

Arabella laughed. "He is not always so scrupulous, I a.s.sure you," she said to Sir Walter, "but he was late on Tuesday for an appointment with Lord Liverpool and Mr Norrell was not best pleased."

"That was not my fault," said Strange. "I was ready to leave the house in good time but I could not find my gloves." Arabella's teasing accusation of lateness continued to vex him and on the way to Harley-street he examined his watch as though in hopes of discovering something about the operation of Time which had hitherto gone unnoticed and which would vindicate him. When they reached Harley-street he thought he had it. "Ha!" he cried suddenly. "I know what it is. My watch is wrong!"

"I do not think so," said Sir Walter, taking out his own watch and shewing it to Strange. "It is precisely noon. Mine says the same."

"Then why do I hear no bells?" said Strange. "Do you hear bells?" he said to Arabella.

"No, I hear nothing."

Sir Walter reddened and muttered something about the bells in this parish and the neighbouring ones being no longer rung.

"Really?" asked Strange. "Why in the world not?"

Sir Walter looked as if he would have thanked Strange to keep his curiosity to himself, but all he said was, "Lady Pole's illness has left her nerves in a sad condition. The tolling of a bell is peculiarly distressing to her and I have asked the vestries of St Mary-le-bone and St Peter if they would, out of consideration for Lady Pole's nerves, forbear from ringing the church bells, and they have been so obliging as to agree."

This was rather extraordinary, but then it was generally agreed that Lady Pole's illness was a rather extraordinary thing with symptoms quite unlike any other. Neither Mr nor Mrs Strange had ever seen Lady Pole. No one had seen her for two years.

When they arrived at no. 9 Harley-street Strange was anxious to begin looking at Sir Walter's doc.u.ments straightaway but he was obliged to curb his impatience while Sir Walter satisfied himself that Arabella would not lack for amus.e.m.e.nt in their absence. Sir Walter was a well-bred man and greatly disliked leaving any guest alone in his house. To abandon a lady was particularly bad. Strange on the other hand was anxious to be on time for his appointment with Mr Norrell, so as fast as Sir Walter could suggest diversions, Strange was endeavouring to prove that Arabella needed none of them.

Sir Walter shewed Arabella the novels in the bookcase, and recommended Mrs Edgeworth's Belinda Belinda in particular as being likely to amuse her. "Oh," said Strange, interrupting, "I read in particular as being likely to amuse her. "Oh," said Strange, interrupting, "I read Belinda Belinda to Arabella two or three years ago. Besides, you know, I do not think we will be so long that she will have time to finish a to Arabella two or three years ago. Besides, you know, I do not think we will be so long that she will have time to finish a three-volume three-volume novel." novel."

"Then perhaps some tea and seed-cake . . . ?" Sir Walter said to Arabella.

"But Arabella does not care for seed-cake," interrupted Strange, absent-mindedly picking up Belinda Belinda himself and beginning to read the first volume, "It is a thing she particularly dislikes." himself and beginning to read the first volume, "It is a thing she particularly dislikes."

"A gla.s.s of madeira, then," said Sir Walter. "You will take some madeira, I am sure. Stephen! . . . Stephen, fetch Mrs Strange a gla.s.s of madeira."

In the eerie, silent fas.h.i.+on peculiar to high-trained London servants, a tall black servant appeared at Sir Walter's elbow. Mr Strange seemed quite startled by his sudden arrival and stared hard at him for several moments, before he said to his wife, "You do not want madeira, do you? You do not want any thing."

"No, Jonathan. I do not want any thing," agreed his wife, laughing at their odd argument. "Thank you, Sir Walter, but I am perfectly content to sit here quietly and read."

The black servant bowed and departed as silently as he had come, and Strange and Sir Walter went off to talk of the French fleet and the missing English s.h.i.+ps.

But when she was left alone, Arabella found that she was not after all in a mood for reading. On looking round the room in search of amus.e.m.e.nt her eye was caught by a large painting. It was a landscape comprising woods and a ruined castle perched on top of a cliff. The trees were dark and the ruins and cliff were touched with gold by the light of a setting sun; the sky by contrast was full of light and glowed with pearly colour. A large portion of the foreground was occupied by a silvery pool in which a young woman appeared to be drowning; a second figure bent over her whether man, woman, satyr or faun, it was impossible to determine and, though Arabella studied their postures carefully, she could not decide whether it was the intention of the second figure to save the young woman or murder her. When she had tired of looking at this painting Arabella wandered out into the pa.s.sage to look at the pictures there but, as these were for the most part watercolour views of Brighton and Chelmsford, she found them very dull.

Sir Walter and Strange could be heard talking in another room. ". . . extraordinary thing! Yet he is an excellent fellow in his way," said Sir Walter's voice.

"Oh! I know who you mean! He has a brother who is the organist at Bath Cathedral," said Strange. "He has a black-and-white cat that walks about the Bath streets just ahead of him. Once, when I was in Milsom-street . . ."

A door stood open, through which Arabella could see a very elegant drawing-room with a great number of paintings that appeared to be more splendid and richly coloured than any she had yet seen. She went in.

The room seemed to be full of light, although the day was every bit as grey and forbidding as it had been before. "So where does all this light come from?" wondered Arabella. "It is almost as if it s.h.i.+nes out of the paintings, but that is impossible." The paintings were all of Venice3 and certainly the great quant.i.ties of sky and sea which they contained made the room seem somehow insubstantial. and certainly the great quant.i.ties of sky and sea which they contained made the room seem somehow insubstantial.

When she had done examining the paintings upon one wall, she turned to cross to the opposite wall and immediately discovered much to her mortification that she was not alone. A young woman was sitting before the fire on a blue sopha, regarding her with some curiosity. The sopha had a rather high back, which was the reason Arabella had not observed her before.

"Oh! I do beg your pardon!"

The young woman said nothing.

She was a remarkably elegant woman with a pale, perfect skin and dark hair most gracefully arranged. She wore a gown of white muslin and an Indian shawl of ivory, silver and black. She seemed altogether too well dressed to be a governess and too much at home to be a lady's companion. Yet if she were a guest in the house, why had Sir Walter not introduced her?

Arabella curtsied to the young woman and, blus.h.i.+ng slightly, said, "I thought there was no one here! I beg your pardon for intruding upon you." She turned to leave.

"Oh!" said the young woman. "I hope you do not think of going! I so rarely see any one scarcely any one at all! And besides you wished to see the paintings! You cannot deny it, you know, for I saw you in that mirror as you entered the room and your intention was plain." A large Venetian mirror hung above the fireplace. It had a most elaborate frame which was also made of mirror-gla.s.s and it was decorated with the ugliest gla.s.s flowers and scrolls imaginable. "I hope," said the young woman, "that you will not allow me to prevent you."

"But I fear I disturb you," said Arabella.

"Oh, but you do not!" The young woman gestured towards the paintings, "Pray. Continue."

So, feeling it would be a still worse breach of manners to refuse, Arabella thanked the young woman and went and examined the other paintings, but she did it less minutely than before because she was conscious that the young woman watched her in the mirror the entire time.

When she had finished, the young woman asked Arabella to sit. "And how do they please you?" she asked.

"Well," said Arabella, "they are certainly very beautiful. I particularly like the pictures of processions and feasts we have nothing like them in England. So many fluttering banners! So many gilded boats and exquisite costumes! But it seems to me that the artist loves buildings and blue skies more than people. He has made them so small, so insignificant! Among so many marble palaces and bridges they seem almost lost. Do not you think so?"

This seemed to amuse the young woman. She smiled a wry smile. "Lost?" she said. "Oh, I should think they are indeed lost, poor souls! For, when all is said and done, Venice is only a labyrinth a vast and beautiful labyrinth to be sure, but a labyrinth nonetheless and none but its oldest inhabitants can be sure of finding their way about or, at least, that is my understanding."

"Indeed?" said Arabella. "That must certainly be very inconvenient. But then the sensation of being lost in a labyrinth must be so delightful! Oh! I believe I should give almost any thing to go there!"

The young woman regarded her with an odd, melancholy smile. "If you had spent months, as I have done, wearily parading through endless dark pa.s.sageways, you would think very differently. The pleasures of losing oneself in a maze pall very quickly. And as for curious ceremonies, processions and feasts, well . . ." She shrugged. "I quite detest them!"

Arabella did not very well comprehend her, but thought that it might help if she discovered who the young woman was, and so she inquired as to her name.

"I am Lady Pole."

"Oh! Of course!" said Arabella and wondered why she had not thought of this before. She told Lady Pole her own name and that her husband had business with Sir Walter, which was the reason of her being there.

A sudden burst of loud laughter was heard from the direction of the library.

"They are supposed to be talking of the war," Arabella ob-served to her ladys.h.i.+p, "but either the war has got a great deal more entertaining recently, or else as I suspect they have left business far behind and have got to gossiping about their acquaintance. Half an hour ago Mr Strange could think of nothing but his next appointment, but now I suppose Sir Walter has drawn him off to talk of other things and I dare say he has forgot all about it." She smiled to herself as wives do when they pretend to criticize their husbands, but are really boasting of them. "I really do believe he is the most easily distracted creature in the world. Mr Norrell's patience must be sorely tried sometimes."

"Mr Norrell?" said Lady Pole.

"Mr Strange has the honour to be Mr Norrell's pupil," said Arabella.

She expected her ladys.h.i.+p to reply with some praise for Mr Norrell's extraordinary magical ability or some words of grat.i.tude for his kindness. But Lady Pole said nothing and so Arabella continued in an encouraging tone, "Of course we have heard a great deal of the wonderful magic which Mr Norrell performed on your ladys.h.i.+p's behalf."

"Mr Norrell has been no friend to me," said Lady Pole in a dry, matter-of-fact tone. "I had far better be dead than be as I am."

It was such a shocking thing to hear that for several moments Arabella could think of nothing to say. She had no reason to love Mr Norrell. He had never done her any kindness indeed he had several times gone out of his way to shew how little he regarded her, but for all that he was the only other representative of her husband's profession. So, just as the wife of an admiral will always take the part of the Navy or the wife of a bishop will speak up in favour of the Church, Arabella felt obliged to say something in defence of the other magician. "Pain and suffering are the very worst of companions and no doubt your ladys.h.i.+p grows heartily sick of them. No one in the world could blame you for wis.h.i.+ng to be rid of them . . ." (Yet even as Arabella spoke these words, she was thinking, "It is very odd but she does not look ill. Not in the least.") "But if what I hear be true, then your ladys.h.i.+p is not without solace in your suffering. I must confess that I have never heard your ladys.h.i.+p's name spoken without its being accompanied by some praise for your devoted husband. Surely you would not gladly leave him? Surely, your ladys.h.i.+p, you must feel a little grateful to Mr Norrell if only for Sir Walter's sake."

Lady Pole did not reply to this; instead she began to question Arabella about her husband. How long had he practised magic? How long had he been Mr Norrell's pupil? Was his magic generally successful? Did he perform magic by himself or only under Norrell's direction?

Arabella did her best to answer all the questions adding, "If there is any thing your ladys.h.i.+p would like me to ask Mr Strange on your behalf, if there is any service he can do, then your ladys.h.i.+p has only to name it."

"Thank you. But what I have to tell you is as much for your husband's sake as mine. I think Mr Strange ought to hear how I was left to a horrible fate by Mr Norrell. Mr Strange should know what sort of man he has to deal with. Will you tell him?"

"Of course. I . . ."