She became aware that the velvet was being lifted and withdrawn slightly against her face in the
steady motions of someone breathing.

 “Who are you?  Where...where am I?”, she whispered .

 “You are safe.  Do not fear;  you are safe and will come to no harm.”  The voice assured her in
those dulcet, musical tones.

 “You...sound like an angel,” she murmured, half-hypnotised by the voice.  “An angel of such
beautiful music.  Am I in Heaven?”

 “You are not in Heaven.  You are here on Earth...with me.”

 “Oh, I am so glad.  I was very frightened of the...the pit.  I fell, you see, and there was nothing
there.  I thought I would die...”

 “It was nought but your fears and anxieties which invade your sleeping mind”, soothed the voice.
“Please believe me - there is no pit.  I have you safe.  Will you come with me now?  You should
rest...perhaps a soothing drink of tea, or honeyed wine.  It will calm your disturbed thoughts.”

 “Yes, I will come, thank you.  I am better now...now I hear you, am near to you.  I think you must
be an angel to have rescued me from that awful, hellish pit.”

“Then I will be your angel, should you so wish.  Your Angel of...Music?”

 “Oh yes, how wonderful!  My Angel of Music!  How I long to sing with fire and passion.  To sing
with all my heart.  Would you teach me to sing, Angel?”

“It will be my honour and my pleasure so to do.”

“Thank you, oh, thank you!”

“Now I will take you to my home and you may rest.  See, here is César, my fine horse.  I will lift you
onto his back and you shall ride in comfort for our journey.”

 The owner of the voice called softly over his shoulder, and was answered by the unmistakeable
whinny of a horse.  A large white shape loomed up in the gloom, and she was placed high on his
back.  In one swift movement the Angel of Music mounted behind her, the animal was given two
gentle pats on his shoulder as indication that he should move and off he went at a sure-footed pace.
The steady rhythm of the horse’s movements was reassuring to her as she lay sideways across his
broad back, resting against the dark man riding pillion, who had one hand guiding the horse, the
other supporting her slight weight.  The thickness of the velvet garb of her Angel kept her pleasantly
warm for he had wrapped the garment around her.

Their journey led them downwards through labyrinthine passages, lit here and there by flares affixed
to the walls.  There was no sound save the sturdy clip-clop of César’s hooves.  On and on they
went on their dreamlike journey until eventually, they came to a misty lake.  She was lifted from the
horse and led to a boat moored nearby.  The Angel of Music helped her step into the boat, where
she sat among many beautifully embroidered cushions, looking about her with wondering eyes.  The
dark shape of the Angel was seen to be attending to the horse, giving him a trough of water and
fodder and a quantity of fresh straw on which to rest until it was time to carry his master again.

His face still deep in the shadow cast by the black fedora hat he wore pulled low over his brow, the
Angel stepped into the boat and took up the pole which had been lying to one side.  Skilfully, he
took the craft across the tranquil waters until they reached the far side, whereupon he moored it,
held out a gloved hand to help her alight, and guided her rather unsteady steps towards a heavy
wooden door, cleverly concealed in the huge rocky structures of their surroundings.

 She allowed her guardian to take her inside the door and welcomed the warmth which greeted
them.  Looking about her with wide-eyed admiration, she noted the fine furnishings and soft
carpeting of a comfortable living-room, lit by many elegant candelabra and the cosy warmth of a coal
fire in the grate, over which was a mantelpiece adorned with exquisite pieces of porcelain and
glassware.  The Angel bowed, then led her to an armchair of rich scarlet damask and softly bade her
be seated.

She looked up shyly to thank him and gave a perceptible start of surprise.

 His face was covered by a mask.