Among Commander Fitzjames’ favorite stories to tell (of which there are many, and many more still outside the category of Favorite) is that of his visit to the kingdom of Lost-Hope.
It had been quite by accident on his part, he explains laughingly. Rather than knocking upon the door of Le Vesconte’s cabin he had knocked upon a new door made of spider silk and melancholy which had quietly insinuated itself between his friend’s and the next, and it had slid open to let him in. What exactly he did there remains to this day a mystery to him, he assures his audience; the only thing that is for certain is that there had been music and dancing and he was compelled to spend hours and hours in the company of the kingdom’s inhabitants without feeling a single minute had passed.
And if he wakes occasionally to the sound of a voice, at once both rough and soft and both low and high, whispering an invitation to him in the moment between sleep and wakefulness– well, that is between him and his dance partner.
