The Curious Case of the Clockwork Man

  “As for me,” Burton continued, “I've never possessed a clear idea of my function in society. I've been a soldier, a spy, a geographer, an interpreter, an explorer, an author, a surveyor, and now the king's agent, whatever the blazes that is. As for this country's gentry, I think you'll find that they mostly have a sense that life is filled with options; that, in terms of what they actually do with their time, there are few limitations.”

  “Herbert used the word ‘trammelled.’ Are you suggesting that the trammelled mind is the susceptible mind?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Funny. I've never considered myself trammelled. Quite the opposite, in fact!”

  “It's not that your mind or imagination is in any respect confined, Algy. It's simply that you've never given consideration to the notion of doing anything else. You even offered your services as my assistant because you felt the danger involved would cure your ennui and inspire greater depth in your poetry.”

  “Which it has. You suspect, then, that the black diamonds somehow break down the mental structures that keep a mind channelled, which is why the working classes are suddenly feeling hard done by—they're realising that they're being cheated out of alternatives?”

  “Yes. Remember the line in the poem? Vexations in the poor enables. And what about Edwin Brundleweed's story of how, the af