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Title:ThePhantomoftheOpera

Author:GastonLeroux

ReleaseDate:June9,2008[EBook#175]

Language:English

***STARTOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKTHEPHANTOMOFTHEOPERA***

ThePhantomoftheOpera

by

GastonLeroux

Authorof"TheMysteryoftheYellowRoom"and"ThePerfumeoftheLadyinBlack"

Contents

Chapter PROLOGUE

I ISITAGHOST?II THENEWMARGARITAIII THEMYSTERIOUSREASONIV BOXFIVEV THEENCHANTEDVIOLINVI AVISITTOBOXFIVEVII FAUSTANDWHATFOLLOWEDVIII THEMYSTERIOUSBROUGHAMIX ATTHEMASKEDBALLX FORGETTHENAMEOFTHEMAN'SVOICEXI ABOVETHETRAP-DOORSXII APOLLO'SLYRE

XIII AMASTER-STROKEOFTHETRAP-DOORLOVER

XIV THESINGULARATTITUDEOFASAFETY-PINXV CHRISTINE!CHRISTINE!XVI MME.GIRY'SREVELATIONSXVII THESAFETY-PINAGAIN

XVIII THECOMMISSARY,THEVISCOUNTANDTHEPERSIAN

XIX THEVISCOUNTANDTHEPERSIANXX INTHECELLARSOFTHEOPERAXXI INTERESTINGVICISSITUDESXXII INTHETORTURECHAMBERXXIII THETORTURESBEGINXXIV BARRELS!BARRELS!XXV THESCORPIONORTHEGRASSHOPPER:WHICH

XXVI THEENDOFTHEGHOST'SLOVESTORY EPILOGUE

(plusa"bonuschapter"called"THEPARISOPERAHOUSE")

ThePhantomoftheOpera

Prologue

INWHICHTHEAUTHOROFTHISSINGULARWORKINFORMSTHEREADER HOW HE ACQUIRED THE CERTAINTY THAT THE OPERAGHOSTREALLYEXISTED

TheOperaghostreallyexisted.Hewasnot,aswaslongbelieved,acreatureoftheimaginationoftheartists,thesuperstitionofthemanagers,oraproductofthe absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, theirmothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge.Yes, heexisted in fleshandblood, althoughheassumed thecomplete appearanceof arealphantom;thatistosay,ofaspectralshade.

When Ibegan to ransack thearchivesof theNationalAcademyofMusic Iwas at once struck by the surprising coincidences between the phenomenaascribedtothe"ghost"andthemostextraordinaryandfantastictragedythateverexcited theParisupperclasses;andIsoonconceived the idea that this tragedymightreasonablybeexplainedbythephenomenainquestion.Theeventsdonotdate more than thirty years back; and it would not be difficult to find at thepresentday,inthefoyeroftheballet,oldmenofthehighestrespectability,menuponwhoseword one could absolutely rely, whowould remember as thoughthey happened yesterday themysterious and dramatic conditions that attendedthekidnappingofChristineDaae,thedisappearanceoftheVicomtedeChagnyandthedeathofhiselderbrother,CountPhilippe,whosebodywasfoundonthebankofthelakethatexistsinthelowercellarsoftheOperaontheRue-Scribeside.Butnoneofthosewitnesseshaduntil thatdaythoughtthattherewasanyreasonforconnectingthemoreorlesslegendaryfigureoftheOperaghostwiththatterriblestory.

The truthwas slow to entermymind, puzzled by an inquiry that at everymomentwascomplicatedbyeventswhich,atfirstsight,mightbelookeduponassuperhuman;andmorethanonceIwaswithinanaceofabandoningataskin

whichIwasexhaustingmyselfinthehopelesspursuitofavainimage.Atlast,Ireceived the proof that my presentiments had not deceived me, and I wasrewarded for allmy efforts on the daywhen I acquired the certainty that theOperaghostwasmorethanamereshade.

Onthatday,IhadspentlonghoursoverTHEMEMOIRSOFAMANAGER,the lightand frivolousworkof the too-skepticalMoncharmin,who,duringhistermat theOpera,understoodnothingof themysteriousbehaviorof theghostandwhowasmakingallthefunofitthathecouldattheverymomentwhenhebecamethefirstvictimofthecuriousfinancialoperationthatwentoninsidethe"magicenvelope."

Ihadjustleftthelibraryindespair,whenImetthedelightfulacting-managerof our National Academy, who stood chatting on a landingwith a lively andwell-groomed little old man, to whom he introduced me gaily. The acting-managerknewallaboutmyinvestigationsandhoweagerlyandunsuccessfullyIhadbeentryingtodiscoverthewhereaboutsoftheexaminingmagistrateinthefamousChagnycase,M.Faure.Nobodyknewwhathadbecomeofhim,aliveordead;andherehewasbackfromCanada,wherehehadspentfifteenyears,andthefirstthinghehaddone,onhisreturntoParis,wastocometothesecretarialoffices at theOpera and ask for a free seat. The little oldmanwasM. Faurehimself.

We spent a good part of the evening together and he told me the wholeChagnycaseashehadunderstooditat thetime.Hewasboundtoconcludeinfavor of the madness of the viscount and the accidental death of the elderbrother,forlackofevidencetothecontrary;buthewasneverthelesspersuadedthat a terrible tragedyhad takenplacebetween the twobrothers in connectionwith Christine Daae. He could not tell me what became of Christine or theviscount.WhenImentionedtheghost,heonlylaughed.He,too,hadbeentoldof the curious manifestations that seemed to point to the existence of anabnormalbeing,residinginoneofthemostmysteriouscornersoftheOpera,andheknewthestoryoftheenvelope;buthehadneverseenanythinginitworthyofhisattentionasmagistrateinchargeoftheChagnycase,anditwasasmuchashe had done to listen to the evidence of a witness who appeared of his ownaccordanddeclaredthathehadoftenmettheghost.Thiswitnesswasnoneotherthan themanwhomallPariscalled the"Persian"andwhowaswell-known toeverysubscribertotheOpera.Themagistratetookhimforavisionary.

I was immensely interested by this story of the Persian. I wanted, if therewere still time, to find this valuable and eccentricwitness.My luck began toimproveandIdiscoveredhiminhislittleflatintheRuedeRivoli,wherehehadlived ever since and where he died five months after my visit. I was at firstinclined to be suspicious; but when the Persian had told me, with child-likecandor, all thatheknewabout theghost andhadhandedme theproofsof theghost's existence—including the strangecorrespondenceofChristineDaae—todo as I pleasedwith, Iwas no longer able to doubt.No, the ghostwas not amyth!

Ihave,Iknow,beentoldthatthiscorrespondencemayhavebeenforgedfromfirst to last by a man whose imagination had certainly been fed on the mostseductivetales;butfortunatelyIdiscoveredsomeofChristine'swritingoutsidethe famous bundle of letters and, on a comparison between the two, all mydoubtswereremoved.IalsowentintothepasthistoryofthePersianandfoundthat he was an upright man, incapable of inventing a story that might havedefeatedtheendsofjustice.

This,moreover,wastheopinionofthemoreseriouspeoplewho,atonetimeor other,weremixedup in theChagny case,whowere friendsof theChagnyfamily,towhomIshowedallmydocumentsandsetforthallmyinferences.Inthisconnection,IshouldliketoprintafewlineswhichIreceivedfromGeneralD——:

SIR:

I can not urge you too strongly to publish the results of your inquiry. Iremember perfectly that, a few weeks before the disappearance of that greatsinger,ChristineDaae,andthetragedywhichthrewthewholeoftheFaubourgSaint-Germainintomourning,therewasagreatdealoftalk,inthefoyeroftheballet, on the subject of the "ghost;" and I believe that it only ceased to bediscussedinconsequenceofthelateraffairthatexcitedusallsogreatly.But,ifitbepossible—as,afterhearingyou,Ibelieve—toexplainthetragedythroughtheghost,thenIbegyousir,totalktousabouttheghostagain.

Mysterious though the ghost may at first appear, he will always be moreeasilyexplainedthanthedismalstoryinwhichmalevolentpeoplehavetriedtopicture twobrotherskillingeachotherwhohadworshipedeachother all theirlives.

Believeme,etc.

Lastly,withmybundleofpapersinhand,Ioncemorewentovertheghost'svast domain, the huge buildingwhich he hadmade his kingdom.All thatmyeyes saw, all that my mind perceived, corroborated the Persian's documentsprecisely; and a wonderful discovery crowned my labors in a very definitefashion.Itwillberememberedthat,later,whendigginginthesubstructureoftheOpera, before burying the phonographic records of the artist's voice, theworkmen laidbareacorpse.Well, Iwasatonceable toprove that thiscorpsewasthatoftheOperaghost.Imadetheacting-managerputthisprooftothetestwithhisownhand;andit isnowamatterofsupremeindifferencetomeifthepaperspretendthatthebodywasthatofavictimoftheCommune.

Thewretcheswhoweremassacred,undertheCommune,inthecellarsoftheOpera,werenotburiedonthisside;Iwilltellwheretheirskeletonscanbefoundin a spot not very far from that immense cryptwhichwas stocked during thesiegewithallsortsofprovisions.IcameuponthistrackjustwhenIwaslookingfortheremainsoftheOperaghost,whichIshouldneverhavediscoveredbutfortheunheard-ofchancedescribedabove.

Butwewill return to thecorpseandwhatought tobedonewith it.For thepresent, I must conclude this very necessary introduction by thanking M.Mifroid(whowasthecommissaryofpolicecalledinforthefirstinvestigationsafter the disappearance of Christine Daae), M. Remy, the late secretary, M.Mercier, the lateacting-manager,M.Gabriel, the latechorus-master, andmoreparticularlyMme. la Baronne de Castelot-Barbezac, who was once the "littleMeg"ofthestory(andwhoisnotashamedofit),themostcharmingstarofouradmirable corps de ballet, the eldest daughter of theworthyMme.Giry, nowdeceased, who had charge of the ghost's private box. All these were of thegreatestassistancetome;and,thankstothem,Ishallbeabletoreproducethosehoursofsheerloveandterror,intheirsmallestdetails,beforethereader'seyes.

And I should be ungrateful indeed if I omitted, while standing on thethresholdofthisdreadfulandveraciousstory,tothankthepresentmanagementtheOpera,whichhassokindlyassistedmeinallmyinquiries,andM.Messagerin particular, together with M. Gabion, the acting-manager, and that mostamiableofmen,thearchitectintrustedwiththepreservationofthebuilding,whodidnothesitatetolendmetheworksofCharlesGarnier,althoughhewasalmostsurethatIwouldneverreturnthemtohim.Lastly,Imustpayapublictributeto

the generosity of my friend and former collaborator, M. J. Le Croze, whoallowedme to dip into his splendid theatrical library and to borrow the raresteditionsofbooksbywhichhesetgreatstore.

GASTONLEROUX.

ChapterIIsittheGhost?

ItwastheeveningonwhichMM.DebienneandPoligny,themanagersoftheOpera,weregivinga lastgalaperformance tomark their retirement.Suddenlythe dressing-roomofLaSorelli, one of the principal dancers,was invaded byhalf-a-dozenyoung ladiesof theballet,whohadcomeup from the stageafter"dancing"Polyeucte.Theyrushedinamidgreatconfusion,somegivingventtoforcedandunnaturallaughter,otherstocriesofterror.Sorelli,whowishedtobealoneforamoment to"run through" thespeechwhichshewas tomake to theresigningmanagers,lookedaroundangrilyatthemadandtumultuouscrowd.ItwaslittleJammes—thegirlwiththetip-tiltednose, theforget-me-noteyes, therose-red cheeks and the lily-white neck and shoulders—who gave theexplanationinatremblingvoice:

"It'stheghost!"Andshelockedthedoor.

Sorelli'sdressing-roomwasfittedupwithofficial,commonplaceelegance.Apier-glass,asofa,adressing-tableandacupboardortwoprovidedthenecessaryfurniture.On thewalls hung a few engravings, relics of themother,who hadknown theglories of theoldOpera in theRue lePeletier; portraits ofVestris,Gardel,Dupont,Bigottini.Buttheroomseemedapalacetothebratsofthecorpsdeballet,whowere lodged in commondressing-roomswhere they spent theirtimesinging,quarreling,smackingthedressersandhair-dressersandbuyingoneanotherglassesofcassis,beer,orevenrhum,untilthecall-boy'sbellrang.

Sorelliwasverysuperstitious.Sheshudderedwhensheheard littleJammesspeakoftheghost,calledhera"sillylittlefool"andthen,asshewasthefirsttobelieveinghostsingeneral,andtheOperaghostinparticular,atonceaskedfordetails:

"Haveyouseenhim?"

"Asplainly as I see younow!" said little Jammes,whose legswere givingwaybeneathher,andshedroppedwithamoanintoachair.

ThereuponlittleGiry—thegirlwitheyesblackassloes,hairblackasink,aswarthycomplexionandapoorlittleskinstretchedoverpoorlittlebones—littleGiryadded:

"Ifthat'stheghost,he'sveryugly!"

"Oh,yes!"criedthechorusofballet-girls.

And theyallbegan to talk together.Theghosthadappeared to them in theshapeofagentleman indress-clothes,whohadsuddenlystoodbefore theminthe passage, without their knowing where he came from. He seemed to havecomestraightthroughthewall.

"Pooh!"saidoneofthem,whohadmoreorlesskeptherhead."Youseetheghosteverywhere!"

Anditwastrue.Forseveralmonths,therehadbeennothingdiscussedattheOperabutthisghostindress-clotheswhostalkedaboutthebuilding,fromtoptobottom,likeashadow,whospoketonobody,towhomnobodydaredspeakandwhovanishedassoonashewasseen,nooneknowinghoworwhere.Asbecamearealghost,hemadenonoiseinwalking.Peoplebeganbylaughingandmakingfunofthisspecterdressedlikeamanoffashionoranundertaker;buttheghostlegendsoonswelledtoenormousproportionsamongthecorpsdeballet.Allthegirlspretendedtohavemetthissupernaturalbeingmoreorlessoften.Andthosewho laughed the loudest were not the most at ease. When he did not showhimself,hebetrayedhispresenceorhispassingbyaccident,comicorserious,forwhichthegeneralsuperstitionheldhimresponsible.Hadanyonemetwithafall,orsufferedapractical jokeat thehandsofoneof theothergirls,or lostapowderpuff,itwasatoncethefaultoftheghost,oftheOperaghost.

Afterall,whohadseenhim?Youmeetsomanymenindress-clothesattheOpera who are not ghosts. But this dress-suit had a peculiarity of its own. Itcovered a skeleton. At least, so the ballet-girls said. And, of course, it had adeath'shead.

Wasallthisserious?ThetruthisthattheideaoftheskeletoncamefromthedescriptionoftheghostgivenbyJosephBuquet,thechiefscene-shifter,whohadreallyseentheghost.Hehadrunupagainsttheghostonthelittlestaircase,bythefootlights,which leads to"thecellars."Hehadseenhimforasecond—fortheghosthadfled—andtoanyonewhocaredtolistentohimhesaid:

"Heisextraordinarilythinandhisdress-coathangsonaskeletonframe.Hiseyesaresodeepthatyoucanhardlyseethefixedpupils.Youjustseetwobigblack holes, as in a deadman's skull. His skin, which is stretched across hisbones like a drumhead, is not white, but a nasty yellow. His nose is so littleworthtalkingaboutthatyoucan'tseeitside-face;andTHEABSENCEofthatnoseisahorriblethingTOLOOKAT.Allthehairhehasisthreeorfourlongdarklocksonhisforeheadandbehindhisears."

This chief scene-shifter was a serious, sober, steady man, very slow atimagining things. His words were received with interest and amazement; andsoontherewereotherpeopletosaythattheytoohadmetamanindress-clotheswithadeath'sheadonhis shoulders.Sensiblemenwhohadwindof the storybeganbysayingthatJosephBuquethadbeenthevictimofajokeplayedbyoneofhisassistants.Andthen,oneaftertheother,therecameaseriesofincidentssocuriousandsoinexplicablethattheveryshrewdestpeoplebegantofeeluneasy.

Forinstance,afiremanisabravefellow!Hefearsnothing,leastofallfire!Well,thefiremaninquestion,whohadgonetomakearoundofinspectioninthecellars and who, it seems, had ventured a little farther than usual, suddenlyreappearedonthestage,pale,scared,trembling,withhiseyesstartingoutofhishead,andpracticallyfaintedinthearmsoftheproudmotheroflittleJammes.[1]Andwhy?Becausehehadseencomingtowardhim,ATTHELEVELOFHISHEAD, BUTWITHOUTABODYATTACHEDTO IT, AHEADOF FIRE!And,asIsaid,afiremanisnotafraidoffire.

Thefireman'snamewasPampin.

Thecorpsdeballetwasflungintoconsternation.Atfirstsight,thisfieryheadinnowaycorrespondedwithJosephBuquet'sdescriptionof theghost.But theyoungladiessoonpersuadedthemselvesthattheghosthadseveralheads,whichhechangedaboutashepleased.And,ofcourse,theyatonceimaginedthattheywereinthegreatestdanger.Onceafiremandidnothesitatetofaint,leadersandfront-rowandback-rowgirlsalikehadplentyofexcusesforthefrightthatmade

themquicken theirpacewhenpassingsomedarkcorneror ill-lightedcorridor.Sorelliherself,onthedayaftertheadventureofthefireman,placedahorseshoeonthetableinfrontofthestage-door-keeper'sbox,whicheveryonewhoenteredtheOperaotherwisethanasaspectatormusttouchbeforesettingfootonthefirsttreadofthestaircase.Thishorse-shoewasnotinventedbyme—anymorethanany other part of this story, alas!—and may still be seen on the table in thepassageoutsidethestage-door-keeper'sbox,whenyouentertheOperathroughthecourtknownastheCourdel'Administration.

Toreturntotheeveninginquestion.

"It'stheghost!"littleJammeshadcried.

Anagonizingsilencenowreignedin thedressing-room.Nothingwasheardbut the hard breathing of the girls.At last, Jammes, flinging herself upon thefarthestcornerofthewall,witheverymarkofrealterroronherface,whispered:

"Listen!"

Everybodyseemedtoheararustlingoutsidethedoor.Therewasnosoundoffootsteps.Itwaslikelightsilkslidingoverthepanel.Thenitstopped.

Sorellitriedtoshowmorepluckthantheothers.Shewentuptothedoorand,inaquaveringvoice,asked:

"Who'sthere?"

But nobody answered. Then feeling all eyes upon her, watching her lastmovement,shemadeanefforttoshowcourage,andsaidveryloudly:

"Isthereanyonebehindthedoor?"

"Oh,yes,yes!Ofcoursethereis!"criedthatlittledriedplumofaMegGiry,heroicallyholdingSorellibackbyhergauzeskirt."Whateveryoudo,don'topenthedoor!Oh,Lord,don'topenthedoor!"

ButSorelli,armedwithadaggerthatneverlefther,turnedthekeyanddrewback the door, while the ballet-girls retreated to the inner dressing-room andMegGirysighed:

"Mother!Mother!"

Sorellilookedintothepassagebravely.Itwasempty;agas-flame,initsglassprison, cast a red and suspicious light into the surrounding darkness, withoutsucceedingindispellingit.Andthedancerslammedthedooragain,withadeepsigh.

"No,"shesaid,"thereisnoonethere."

"Still,wesawhim!"Jammesdeclared,returningwithtimidlittlestepstoherplacebesideSorelli."Hemustbesomewhereprowlingabout.Ishan'tgobacktodress.Wehadbetterallgodowntothefoyertogether,atonce,forthe'speech,'andwewillcomeupagaintogether."

Andthechildreverentlytouchedthelittlecoralfinger-ringwhichsheworeasacharmagainstbadluck,whileSorelli,stealthily,withthetipofherpinkrightthumb-nail,madeaSt.Andrew's crosson thewooden ringwhichadorned thefourthfingerofherlefthand.Shesaidtothelittleballet-girls:

"Come,children,pullyourselvestogether!Idaresaynoonehaseverseentheghost."

"Yes,yes,wesawhim—wesawhimjustnow!"criedthegirls."Hehadhisdeath'sheadandhisdress-coat,justaswhenheappearedtoJosephBuquet!"

"And Gabriel saw him too!" said Jammes. "Only yesterday! Yesterdayafternoon—inbroadday-light——"

"Gabriel,thechorus-master?"

"Why,yes,didn'tyouknow?"

"Andhewaswearinghisdress-clothes,inbroaddaylight?"

"Who?Gabriel?"

"Why,no,theghost!"

"Certainly!Gabrieltoldmesohimself.That'swhatheknewhimby.Gabrielwas in the stage-manager's office. Suddenly the door opened and the Persian

entered.YouknowthePersianhastheevileye——"

"Oh,yes!" answered the littleballet-girls in chorus,wardingoff ill-luckbypointingtheirforefingerandlittlefingerattheabsentPersian,whiletheirsecondandthirdfingerswerebentonthepalmandhelddownbythethumb.

"AndyouknowhowsuperstitiousGabrielis,"continuedJammes."However,he is always polite.When he meets the Persian, he just puts his hand in hispocket and touches his keys. Well, the moment the Persian appeared in thedoorway,Gabrielgaveonejumpfromhischairtothelockofthecupboard,soasto touch iron! In doing so, he tore a whole skirt of his overcoat on a nail.Hurrying togetoutof theroom,hebangedhis foreheadagainstahat-pegandgavehimselfahugebump;then,suddenlysteppingback,heskinnedhisarmonthescreen,near thepiano;he tried to leanon thepiano,but the lid fellonhishandsandcrushedhisfingers;herushedoutoftheofficelikeamadman,slippedonthestaircaseandcamedownthewholeofthefirstflightonhisback.Iwasjustpassingwithmother.Wepickedhimup.Hewascoveredwithbruisesandhisfacewasalloverblood.Wewerefrightenedoutofourlives,but,allatonce,he began to thankProvidence that he had got off so cheaply.Then he told uswhat had frightened him. He had seen the ghost behind the Persian, THEGHOSTWITHTHEDEATH'SHEADjustlikeJosephBuquet'sdescription!"

Jammeshad toldherstoryeversoquickly,as though theghostwereatherheels,andwasquiteoutofbreathatthefinish.Asilencefollowed,whileSorellipolishedhernailsingreatexcitement.ItwasbrokenbylittleGiry,whosaid:

"JosephBuquetwoulddobettertoholdhistongue."

"Whyshouldheholdhistongue?"askedsomebody.

"That'smother's opinion," repliedMeg, lowering her voice and looking allaboutherasthoughfearinglestotherearsthanthosepresentmightoverhear.

"Andwhyisityourmother'sopinion?"

"Hush!Mothersaystheghostdoesn'tlikebeingtalkedabout."

"Andwhydoesyourmothersayso?"

"Because—because—nothing—"

This reticence exasperated the curiosity of the young ladies, who crowdedroundlittleGiry,begginghertoexplainherself.Theywerethere,sidebyside,leaning forward simultaneously in one movement of entreaty and fear,communicatingtheirterrortooneanother,takingakeenpleasureinfeelingtheirbloodfreezeintheirveins.

"Isworenottotell!"gaspedMeg.

But they left her no peace and promised to keep the secret, until Meg,burningtosayallsheknew,began,withhereyesfixedonthedoor:

"Well,it'sbecauseoftheprivatebox."

"Whatprivatebox?"

"Theghost'sbox!"

"Hastheghostabox?Oh,dotellus,dotellus!"

"Notsoloud!"saidMeg."It'sBoxFive,youknow,theboxonthegrandtier,nexttothestage-box,ontheleft."

"Oh,nonsense!"

"I tell you it is. Mother has charge of it. But you swear you won't say aword?"

"Ofcourse,ofcourse."

"Well,that'stheghost'sbox.Noonehashaditforoveramonth,excepttheghost,andordershavebeengivenatthebox-officethatitmustneverbesold."

"Anddoestheghostreallycomethere?"

"Yes."

"Thensomebodydoescome?"

"Why,no!Theghostcomes,butthereisnobodythere."

The little ballet-girls exchanged glances. If the ghost came to the box, he

mustbeseen,becauseheworeadress-coatandadeath'shead.ThiswaswhattheytriedtomakeMegunderstand,butshereplied:

"That'sjustit!Theghostisnotseen.Andhehasnodress-coatandnohead!All that talk about his death's head and his head of fire is nonsense! There'snothinginit.Youonlyhearhimwhenheisinthebox.Motherhasneverseenhim,butshehasheardhim.Motherknows,becauseshegiveshimhisprogram."

Sorelliinterfered.

"Giry,child,you'regettingatus!"

ThereuponlittleGirybegantocry.

"Iought tohaveheldmytongue—ifmotherevercametoknow!ButIwasquite right, JosephBuquethadnobusiness to talkof things thatdon't concernhim—itwillbringhimbadluck—motherwassayingsolastnight——"

There was a sound of hurried and heavy footsteps in the passage and abreathlessvoicecried:

"Cecile!Cecile!Areyouthere?"

"It'smother'svoice,"saidJammes."What'sthematter?"

Sheopenedthedoor.Arespectable lady,builton the linesofaPomeraniangrenadier,burstintothedressing-roomanddroppedgroaningintoavacantarm-chair.Hereyesrolledmadlyinherbrick-dustcoloredface.

"Howawful!"shesaid."Howawful!"

"What?What?"

"JosephBuquet!"

"Whatabouthim?"

"JosephBuquetisdead!"

The room became filled with exclamations, with astonished outcries, withscaredrequestsforexplanations.

"Yes,hewasfoundhanginginthethird-floorcellar!"

"It's the ghost!" littleGiry blurted, as though in spite of herself; but she atoncecorrectedherself,withherhandspressedtohermouth:"No,no!—I,didn'tsayit!—Ididn'tsayit!——"

Allaroundher,herpanic-strickencompanionsrepeatedundertheirbreaths:

"Yes—itmustbetheghost!"

Sorelliwasverypale.

"Ishallneverbeabletorecitemyspeech,"shesaid.

Ma Jammes gave her opinion, while she emptied a glass of liqueur thathappenedtobestandingonatable;theghostmusthavesomethingtodowithit.

The truth is that noone ever knewhow JosephBuquetmet his death.Theverdict at the inquest was "natural suicide." In his Memoirs of Manager, M.Moncharmin, one of the joint managers who succeeded MM. Debienne andPoligny,describestheincidentasfollows:

"A grievous accident spoiled the little party which MM. Debienne andPolignygave tocelebrate their retirement. Iwas in themanager'soffice,whenMercier,theacting-manager,suddenlycamedartingin.Heseemedhalfmadandtoldme that the body of a scene-shifter had been found hanging in the thirdcellar under the stage, between a farm-house and a scene from the Roi deLahore.Ishouted:

"'Comeandcuthimdown!'

"BythetimeIhadrusheddownthestaircaseandtheJacob'sladder,themanwasnolongerhangingfromhisrope!"

SothisisaneventwhichM.Moncharminthinksnatural.Amanhangsattheend of a rope; they go to cut him down; the rope has disappeared. Oh, M.Moncharminfoundaverysimpleexplanation!Listentohim:

"It was just after the ballet; and leaders and dancing-girls lost no time intakingtheirprecautionsagainsttheevileye."

Thereyouare!Picture thecorpsdeballetscuttlingdowntheJacob's ladderand dividing the suicide's rope among themselves in less time than it takes towrite!When,on theotherhand, I thinkof the exact spotwhere thebodywasdiscovered—the thirdcellarunderneath thestage!—imagine thatSOMEBODYmusthavebeeninterestedinseeingthattheropedisappearedafterithadeffecteditspurpose;andtimewillshowifIamwrong.

Thehorridnewssoonspreadallover theOpera,where JosephBuquetwasverypopular.Thedressing-roomsemptiedandtheballet-girls,crowdingaroundSorelliliketimidsheeparoundtheirshepherdess,madeforthefoyerthroughtheill-litpassagesandstaircases,trottingasfastastheirlittlepinklegscouldcarrythem.

[1]Ihavetheanecdote,whichisquiteauthentic,fromM.PedroGailhardhimself,thelatemanageroftheOpera.

ChapterIITheNewMargarita

On the first landing, Sorelli ran against the Comte de Chagny, who wascomingup-stairs.Thecount,whowasgenerallysocalm,seemedgreatlyexcited.

"Iwas justgoing toyou,"he said, takingoffhishat. "Oh,Sorelli,whatanevening!AndChristineDaae:whatatriumph!"

"Impossible!" said Meg Giry. "Six months ago, she used to sing like aCROCK!Butdoletusgetby,mydearcount,"continuesthebrat,withasaucycurtsey."Wearegoing to inquireafterapoormanwhowasfoundhangingbytheneck."

Just then theacting-managercame fussingpastandstoppedwhenheheardthisremark.

"What!"heexclaimedroughly."Haveyougirlsheardalready?Well,please

forgetaboutitfortonight—andabovealldon'tletM.DebienneandM.Polignyhear;itwouldupsetthemtoomuchontheirlastday."

Theyallwentontothefoyeroftheballet,whichwasalreadyfullofpeople.TheComtedeChagnywasright;nogalaperformanceeverequalledthisone.Allthegreatcomposersof thedayhadconducted theirownworks in turns.FaureandKrausshadsung;and,onthatevening,ChristineDaaehadrevealedhertrueself,forthefirsttime,totheastonishedandenthusiasticaudience.GounodhadconductedtheFuneralMarchofaMarionnette;Reyer,hisbeautifuloverturetoSiguar;SaintSaens, theDanseMacabreandaReverieOrientale;Massenet,anunpublishedHungarianmarch;Guiraud,hisCarnaval;Delibes, theValseLentefromSylviaandthePizzicatifromCoppelia.Mlle.Krausshadsungthebolerointhe Vespri Siciliani; and Mlle. Denise Bloch the drinking song in LucreziaBorgia.

But the real triumph was reserved for Christine Daae, who had begun bysinging a few passages from Romeo and Juliet. It was the first time that theyoungartistsanginthisworkofGounod,whichhadnotbeentransferredtotheOperaandwhichwasrevivedattheOperaComiqueafterithadbeenproducedattheoldTheatreLyriquebyMme.Carvalho.Thosewhoheardhersaythathervoice, in thesepassages,wasseraphic;but thiswasnothingto thesuperhumannotesthatshegaveforthintheprisonsceneandthefinaltrioinFAUST,whichshesangintheplaceofLaCarlotta,whowasill.Noonehadeverheardorseenanythinglikeit.

Daae revealed a new Margarita that night, a Margarita of a splendor, aradiance hitherto unsuspected. The whole house went mad, rising to its feet,shouting,cheering,clapping,whileChristinesobbedandfaintedinthearmsofherfellow-singersandhadtobecarriedtoherdressing-room.Afewsubscribers,however, protested.Why had so great a treasure been kept from them all thattime?Tillthen,ChristineDaaehadplayedagoodSiebeltoCarlotta'srathertoosplendidly materialMargarita. And it had needed Carlotta's incomprehensibleandinexcusableabsencefromthisgalanightfor the littleDaae,atamoment'swarning,toshowallthatshecoulddoinapartoftheprogramreservedfortheSpanish diva! Well, what the subscribers wanted to know was, why hadDebienne andPolignyapplied toDaae,whenCarlottawas taken ill?Did theyknow of her hidden genius? And, if they knew of it, why had they kept ithidden?Andwhyhadshekeptithidden?Oddlyenough,shewasnotknowntohave a professor of singing at thatmoment. She had often said shemeant to

practisealoneforthefuture.Thewholethingwasamystery.

TheComtedeChagny,standingupinhisbox,listenedtoallthisfrenzyandtookpartinitbyloudlyapplauding.PhilippeGeorgesMarieComtedeChagnywas just forty-one years of age.Hewas a great aristocrat and a good-lookingman, above middle height and with attractive features, in spite of his hardforeheadandhisrathercoldeyes.Hewasexquisitelypolitetothewomenandalittlehaughty to themen,whodidnotalways forgivehimforhis successes insociety. He had an excellent heart and an irreproachable conscience. On thedeathofoldCountPhilibert,hebecametheheadofoneoftheoldestandmostdistinguished families in France, whose arms dated back to the fourteenthcentury.TheChagnysownedagreatdealofproperty;and,whentheoldcount,who was a widower, died, it was no easy task for Philippe to accept themanagementofsolargeanestate.Histwosistersandhisbrother,Raoul,wouldnothearofadivisionandwaivedtheirclaimtotheirshares,leavingthemselvesentirely in Philippe's hands, as though the right of primogeniture had neverceased to exist.When the two sistersmarried, on the sameday, they receivedtheirportionfromtheirbrother,notasathingrightfullybelongingtothem,butasadowryforwhichtheythankedhim.

TheComtesse deChagny, nee deMoerogis deLaMartyniere, had died ingivingbirthtoRaoul,whowasborntwentyyearsafterhiselderbrother.Atthetime of the old count's death,Raoulwas twelve years of age. Philippe busiedhimself activelywith the youngster's education.Hewas admirably assisted inthisworkfirstbyhissistersandafterwardbyanoldaunt,thewidowofanavalofficer,who lived atBrest and gave youngRaoul a taste for the sea. The ladentered the Borda training-ship, finished his course with honors and quietlymadehis trip round theworld.Thanks topowerful influence,hehad justbeenappointedamemberoftheofficialexpeditiononboardtheRequin,whichwastobesenttotheArcticCircleinsearchofthesurvivorsoftheD'Artoi'sexpedition,ofwhomnothinghadbeenheardforthreeyears.Meanwhile,hewasenjoyingalongfurloughwhichwouldnotbeoverforsixmonths;andalreadythedowagersof the Faubourg Saint-Germain were pitying the handsome and apparentlydelicatestriplingforthehardworkinstoreforhim.

The shyness of the sailor-lad—I was almost saying his innocence—wasremarkable. He seemed to have but just left the women's apron-strings. As amatter of fact, petted as he was by his two sisters and his old aunt, he hadretained from thispurely feminine educationmanners thatwere almost candid

andstampedwithacharmthatnothinghadyetbeenabletosully.Hewasalittleover twenty-one years of age and looked eighteen. He had a small, fairmustache,beautifulblueeyesandacomplexionlikeagirl's.

PhilippespoiledRaoul.Tobeginwith,hewasveryproudofhimandpleasedto foresee a glorious career for his junior in the navy in which one of theirancestors, the famousChagnydeLaRoche, had held the rank of admiral.Hetookadvantageoftheyoungman'sleaveofabsencetoshowhimParis,withallitsluxuriousandartisticdelights.Thecountconsideredthat,atRaoul'sage,itisnotgood tobe toogood.Philippehimself had a character thatwasverywell-balancedinworkandpleasurealike;hisdemeanorwasalwaysfaultless;andhewas incapable of setting his brother a bad example. He took him with himwhereverhewent.Heevenintroducedhimtothefoyeroftheballet.Iknowthatthecountwassaidtobe"onterms"withSorelli.Butitcouldhardlybereckonedasacrimeforthisnobleman,abachelor,withplentyofleisure,especiallysincehis sisterswere settled, to come and spend an hour or two after dinner in thecompanyofadancer,who, thoughnot sovery,verywitty,had the finest eyesthateverwereseen!And,besides,thereareplaceswhereatrueParisian,whenhehastherankoftheComtedeChagny,isboundtoshowhimself;andatthattimethefoyeroftheballetattheOperawasoneofthoseplaces.

Lastly,PhilippewouldperhapsnothavetakenhisbrotherbehindthescenesoftheOperaifRaoulhadnotbeenthefirsttoaskhim,repeatedlyrenewinghisrequestwithagentleobstinacywhichthecountrememberedatalaterdate.

On that evening, Philippe, after applauding the Daae, turned to Raoul andsawthathewasquitepale.

"Don'tyousee,"saidRaoul,"thatthewoman'sfainting?"

"Youlooklikefaintingyourself,"saidthecount."What'sthematter?"

ButRaoulhadrecoveredhimselfandwasstandingup.

"Let'sgoandsee,"hesaid,"sheneversanglikethatbefore."

The count gave his brother a curious smiling glance and seemed quitepleased. They were soon at the door leading from the house to the stage.Numbersofsubscriberswereslowlymaking theirway through.Raoul torehisgloveswithoutknowingwhathewasdoingandPhilippehadmuch tookinda

hearttolaughathimforhisimpatience.ButhenowunderstoodwhyRaoulwasabsent-minded when spoken to and why he always tried to turn everyconversationtothesubjectoftheOpera.

Theyreached thestageandpushed through thecrowdofgentlemen,scene-shifters,supersandchorus-girls,Raoulleadingtheway,feelingthathisheartnolongerbelongedtohim,hisfacesetwithpassion,whileCountPhilippefollowedhimwithdifficultyandcontinuedtosmile.Atthebackofthestage,Raoulhadtostopbeforetheinrushofthelittletroopofballet-girlswhoblockedthepassagewhichhewas trying toenter.More thanonechaffingphrasedarted from littlemade-up lips, towhich he did not reply; and at last hewas able to pass, anddived into the semi-darkness of a corridor ringing with the name of "Daae!Daae!"ThecountwassurprisedtofindthatRaoulknewtheway.Hehadnevertaken him to Christine's himself and came to the conclusion that Raoul musthavegone therealonewhile thecount stayed talking in the foyerwithSorelli,who often asked him towait until it was her time to "go on" and sometimeshandedhimthe littlegaiters inwhichsherandownfromherdressing-roomtopreservethespotlessnessofhersatindancing-shoesandherflesh-coloredtights.Sorellihadanexcuse;shehadlosthermother.

PostponinghisusualvisittoSorelliforafewminutes,thecountfollowedhisbrotherdown thepassage that led toDaae'sdressing-roomandsaw that ithadnever been so crammed as on that evening, when the whole house seemedexcitedbyhersuccessandalsobyherfaintingfit.Forthegirlhadnotyetcometo; and the doctor of the theater had just arrived at the moment when Raoulenteredathisheels.Christine,therefore,receivedthefirstaidoftheone,whileopeninghereyesinthearmsof theother.Thecountandmanymoreremainedcrowdinginthedoorway.

"Don't you think,Doctor, that those gentlemen had better clear the room?"askedRaoulcoolly."There'snobreathinghere."

"You'requiteright,"saidthedoctor.

Andhesenteveryoneaway,exceptRaoulandthemaid,wholookedatRaoulwitheyesofthemostundisguisedastonishment.Shehadneverseenhimbeforeandyetdarednotquestionhim;andthedoctorimaginedthattheyoungmanwasonly acting as he did because he had the right to. The viscount, therefore,remained in the roomwatchingChristine as she slowly returned to life,while

even the joint managers, Debienne and Poligny, who had come to offer theirsympathyandcongratulations,foundthemselvesthrust intothepassageamongthe crowd of dandies. TheComte deChagny,whowas one of those standingoutside,laughed:

"Oh, the rogue, the rogue!" And he added, under his breath: "Thoseyoungsterswiththeirschool-girlairs!Sohe'saChagnyafterall!"

HeturnedtogotoSorelli'sdressing-room,butmetherontheway,withherlittletroopoftremblingballet-girls,aswehaveseen.

Meanwhile, ChristineDaae uttered a deep sigh, whichwas answered by agroan.Sheturnedherhead,sawRaoulandstarted.Shelookedatthedoctor,onwhomshebestowedasmile,thenathermaid,thenatRaoulagain.

"Monsieur,"shesaid,inavoicenotmuchaboveawhisper,"whoareyou?"

"Mademoiselle,"repliedtheyoungman,kneelingononekneeandpressingaferventkissonthediva'shand,"IAMTHELITTLEBOYWHOWENTINTOTHESEATORESCUEYOURSCARF."

Christine again looked at the doctor and the maid; and all three began tolaugh.

Raoulturnedveryredandstoodup.

"Mademoiselle,"hesaid,"sinceyouarepleasednottorecognizeme,Ishouldliketosaysomethingtoyouinprivate,somethingveryimportant."

"WhenIambetter,doyoumind?"Andhervoiceshook."Youhavebeenverygood."

"Yes,youmustgo,"saidthedoctor,withhispleasantestsmile."Leavemetoattendtomademoiselle."

"I am not ill now," said Christine suddenly, with strange and unexpectedenergy.

Sheroseandpassedherhandoverhereyelids.

"Thank you,Doctor. I should like to be alone. Please go away, all of you.Leaveme.Ifeelveryrestlessthisevening."

The doctor tried to make a short protest, but, perceiving the girl's evidentagitation,hethoughtthebestremedywasnottothwarther.Andhewentaway,sayingtoRaoul,outside:

"Sheisnotherselfto-night.Sheisusuallysogentle."

ThenhesaidgoodnightandRaoulwasleftalone.Thewholeofthispartofthetheaterwasnowdeserted.Thefarewellceremonywasnodoubttakingplaceinthefoyeroftheballet.RaoulthoughtthatDaaemightgotoitandhewaitedinthesilentsolitude,evenhiding in thefavoringshadowofadoorway.Hefeltaterrible pain at his heart and it was of this that he wanted to speak to Daaewithoutdelay.

Suddenlythedressing-roomdooropenedandthemaidcameoutbyherself,carryingbundles.Hestoppedherandaskedhowhermistresswas.Thewomanlaughedandsaidthatshewasquitewell,butthathemustnotdisturbher,forshewishedtobeleftalone.Andshepassedon.OneideaalonefilledRaoul'sburningbrain:ofcourse,Daaewished tobe left aloneFORHIM!Hadhenot toldherthathewantedtospeaktoherprivately?

Hardlybreathing, hewent up to thedressing-roomand,withhis ear to thedoortocatchherreply,preparedtoknock.Buthishanddropped.HehadheardAMAN'SVOICEinthedressing-room,saying,inacuriouslymasterfultone:

"Christine,youmustloveme!"

AndChristine's voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompaniedbytears,replied:

"Howcanyoutalklikethat?WHENISINGONLYFORYOU!"

Raoulleanedagainstthepaneltoeasehispain.Hisheart,whichhadseemedgone for ever, returned to his breast and was throbbing loudly. The wholepassage echoedwith its beating andRaoul's earsweredeafened.Surely, if hisheartcontinuedtomakesuchanoise,theywouldhearitinside,theywouldopenthedoorandtheyoungmanwouldbeturnedawayindisgrace.WhatapositionforaChagny!Tobecaughtlisteningbehindadoor!Hetookhisheartinhistwo

handstomakeitstop.

Theman'svoicespokeagain:"Areyouverytired?"

"Oh,to-nightIgaveyoumysoulandIamdead!"Christinereplied.

"Yoursoulisabeautiful thing,child,"repliedthegraveman'svoice,"andIthank you. No emperor ever received so fair a gift. THE ANGELS WEPTTONIGHT."

Raoul heard nothing after that. Nevertheless, he did not go away, but, asthough he feared lest he should be caught, he returned to his dark corner,determinedtowaitforthemantoleavetheroom.Atoneandthesametime,hehadlearnedwhatlovemeant,andhatred.Heknewthatheloved.Hewantedtoknowwhomhehated.Tohisgreatastonishment,thedooropenedandChristineDaaeappeared,wrappedinfurs,withherfacehiddeninalaceveil,alone.Sheclosed the door behind her, but Raoul observed that she did not lock it. Shepassedhim.Hedidnotevenfollowherwithhiseyes,forhiseyeswerefixedonthedoor,whichdidnotopenagain.

Whenthepassagewasoncemoredeserted,hecrossedit,openedthedoorofthe dressing-room, went in and shut the door. He found himself in absolutedarkness.Thegashadbeenturnedout.

"Thereissomeonehere!"saidRaoul,withhisbackagainstthecloseddoor,inaquiveringvoice."Whatareyouhidingfor?"

All was darkness and silence. Raoul heard only the sound of his ownbreathing. He quite failed to see that the indiscretion of his conduct wasexceedingallbounds.

"Youshan'tleavethisuntilIletyou!"heexclaimed."Ifyoudon'tanswer,youareacoward!ButI'llexposeyou!"

Andhestruckamatch.Theblaze litup theroom.Therewasnoone in theroom!Raoul,firstturningthekeyinthedoor,litthegas-jets.Hewentintothedressing-closet,openedthecupboards,huntedabout,feltthewallswithhismoisthands.Nothing!

"Lookhere!"hesaid,aloud."AmIgoingmad?"

He stood for ten minutes listening to the gas flaring in the silence of theemptyroom;loverthoughhewas,hedidnoteventhinkofstealingaribbonthatwould have given him the perfume of thewoman he loved.Hewent out, notknowingwhathewasdoingnorwherehewasgoing.Atagivenmomentinhiswaywardprogress,anicydraftstruckhimintheface.Hefoundhimselfat thebottomofastaircase,downwhich,behindhim,aprocessionofworkmenwerecarryingasortofstretcher,coveredwithawhitesheet.

"Whichisthewayout,please?"heaskedofoneofthemen.

"Straightinfrontofyou,thedoorisopen.Butletuspass."

Pointingtothestretcher,heaskedmechanically:"What'sthat?"

Theworkmenanswered:

"'That'isJosephBuquet,whowasfoundinthethirdcellar,hangingbetweenafarm-houseandascenefromtheROIDELAHORE."

Hetookoffhishat,fellbacktomakeroomfortheprocessionandwentout.

ChapterIIITheMysteriousReason

Duringthistime,thefarewellceremonywastakingplace.IhavealreadysaidthatthismagnificentfunctionwasbeinggivenontheoccasionoftheretirementofM.DebienneandM.Poligny,whohaddeterminedto"diegame,"aswesaynowadays. They had been assisted in the realization of their ideal, thoughmelancholy,programbyallthatcountedinthesocialandartisticworldofParis.All these peoplemet, after the performance, in the foyer of the ballet, whereSorelliwaitedforthearrivaloftheretiringmanagerswithaglassofchampagneinherhandandalittlepreparedspeechatthetipofhertongue.Behindher,themembersoftheCorpsdeBallet,youngandold,discussedtheeventsofthedayinwhispers or exchanged discreet signalswith their friends, a noisy crowdofwhomsurroundedthesupper-tablesarrangedalongtheslantingfloor.

A fewof thedancershad already changed intoordinarydress; butmost of

themworetheirskirtsofgossamergauze;andallhadthoughtittherightthingtoputona special face for theoccasion:all, that is, except little Jammes,whosefifteensummers—happyage!—seemedalreadytohaveforgottentheghostandthedeathofJosephBuquet.Sheneverceasedtolaughandchatter,tohopaboutandplaypracticaljokes,untilMm.DebienneandPolignyappearedonthestepsofthefoyer,whenshewasseverelycalledtoorderbytheimpatientSorelli.

Everybody remarked that the retiring managers looked cheerful, as is theParisway.NonewilleverbeatrueParisianwhohasnotlearnedtowearamaskofgaietyoverhissorrowsandoneofsadness,boredomorindifferenceoverhisinwardjoy.Youknowthatoneofyourfriendsisintrouble;donottrytoconsolehim:hewilltellyouthatheisalreadycomforted;but,shouldhehavemetwithgoodfortune,becarefulhowyoucongratulatehim:hethinksitsonaturalthatheissurprisedthatyoushouldspeakofit.InParis,ourlivesareonemaskedball;andthefoyeroftheballetisthelastplaceinwhichtwomenso"knowing"asM.DebienneandM.Polignywouldhavemadethemistakeofbetrayingtheirgrief,howevergenuineitmightbe.AndtheywerealreadysmilingrathertoobroadlyuponSorelli,whohadbeguntoreciteherspeech,whenanexclamationfromthatlittlemadcapofaJammesbrokethesmileof themanagerssobrutally that theexpressionofdistressanddismaythatlaybeneathitbecameapparenttoalleyes:

"TheOperaghost!"

Jammes yelled thesewords in a tone of unspeakable terror; and her fingerpointed,amongthecrowdofdandies, toafacesopallid,so lugubriousandsougly,withtwosuchdeepblackcavitiesunderthestraddlingeyebrows,thatthedeath'sheadinquestionimmediatelyscoredahugesuccess.

"The Opera ghost! The Opera ghost!" Everybody laughed and pushed hisneighborandwantedtooffertheOperaghostadrink,buthewasgone.Hehadslippedthroughthecrowd;andtheothersvainlyhuntedforhim,whiletwooldgentlementriedtocalmlittleJammesandwhilelittleGirystoodscreaminglikeapeacock.

Sorelliwasfurious;shehadnotbeenabletofinishherspeech;themanagers,hadkissedher, thankedherandrunawayas fastas theghosthimself.Noonewas surprisedat this, for itwasknown that theywere togo through the sameceremonyon the floor above, in the foyerof the singers, and that finally theywerethemselvestoreceivetheirpersonalfriends,for thelast time, inthegreat

lobbyoutsidethemanagers'office,wherearegularsupperwouldbeserved.

Heretheyfoundthenewmanagers,M.ArmandMoncharminandM.FirminRichard,whomtheyhardlyknew;nevertheless,theywerelavishinprotestationsof friendship and received a thousand flattering compliments in reply, so thatthoseoftheguestswhohadfearedthattheyhadarathertediouseveninginstorefor them at once put on brighter faces. The supper was almost gay and aparticularlycleverspeechoftherepresentativeofthegovernment,minglingthegloriesofthepastwiththesuccessesofthefuture,causedthegreatestcordialitytoprevail.

The retiringmanagers had already handed over to their successors the twotinymaster-keyswhichopenedallthedoors—thousandsofdoors—oftheOperahouse.And those littlekeys, theobjectofgeneralcuriosity,werebeingpassedfromhand to hand,when the attention of some of the guestswas diverted bytheirdiscovery,at theendof the table,of that strange,wanand fantastic face,withtheholloweyes,whichhadalreadyappearedinthefoyeroftheballetandbeengreetedbylittleJammes'exclamation:

"TheOperaghost!"

There sat the ghost, as natural as could be, except that he neither ate nordrank.Thosewhobeganbylookingathimwithasmileendedbyturningawaytheirheads,forthesightofhimatonceprovokedthemostfunerealthoughts.Noonerepeatedthejokeofthefoyer,nooneexclaimed:

"There'stheOperaghost!"

Hehimselfdidnotspeakawordandhisveryneighborscouldnothavestatedatwhatprecisemomenthehadsatdownbetweenthem;buteveryonefeltthatifthe deaddid ever come and sit at the table of the living, they couldnot cut amore ghastly figure. The friends of FirminRichard andArmandMoncharminthought that this lean and skinny guestwas an acquaintance ofDebienne's orPoligny's,whileDebienne's andPoligny's friends believed that the cadaverousindividualbelongedtoFirminRichardandArmandMoncharmin'sparty.

The resultwas thatno requestwasmade for anexplanation;nounpleasantremark; no joke in bad taste,whichmight have offended this visitor from thetomb.Afewofthosepresentwhoknewthestoryoftheghostandthedescriptionofhimgivenbythechiefscene-shifter—theydidnotknowofJosephBuquet's

death—thought, in theirownminds, that themanat theendof the tablemighteasilyhavepassedforhim;andyet,accordingtothestory,theghosthadnonoseand theperson inquestionhad.ButM.Moncharmindeclares, inhisMemoirs,that theguest'snosewas transparent:"long, thinand transparent"arehisexactwords.I,formypart,willaddthatthismightverywellapplytoafalsenose.M.Moncharmin may have taken for transparency what was only shininess.Everybody knows that orthopaedic science provides beautiful false noses forthosewhohavelosttheirnosesnaturallyorastheresultofanoperation.

Did the ghost really take a seat at the managers' supper-table that night,uninvited? And can we be sure that the figure was that of the Opera ghosthimself? Who would venture to assert as much? I mention the incident, notbecauseIwishforasecondtomakethereaderbelieve—oreventotrytomakehimbelieve—thattheghostwascapableofsuchasublimepieceofimpudence;butbecause,afterall,thethingisimpossible.

M.ArmandMoncharmin,inchapterelevenofhisMemoirs,says:

"WhenIthinkofthisfirstevening,IcannotseparatethesecretconfidedtousbyMM.DebienneandPolignyintheirofficefromthepresenceatoursupperofthatGHOSTLYpersonwhomnoneofusknew."

Whathappenedwasthis:Mm.DebienneandPoligny,sittingatthecenterofthe table, had not seen the man with the death's head. Suddenly he began tospeak.

"Theballet-girlsareright,"hesaid."ThedeathofthatpoorBuquetisperhapsnotsonaturalaspeoplethink."

DebienneandPolignygaveastart.

"IsBuquetdead?"theycried.

"Yes,"repliedtheman,ortheshadowofaman,quietly."Hewasfound,thisevening,hanginginthethirdcellar,betweenafarm-houseandascenefromtheRoideLahore."

Thetwomanagers,orratherex-managers,atonceroseandstaredstrangelyatthe speaker.Theyweremore excited than theyneedhavebeen, that is to say,moreexcitedthananyoneneedbebytheannouncementofthesuicideofachief

scene-shifter.Theylookedateachother.They,hadbothturnedwhiter thanthetable-cloth. At last, Debiennemade a sign toMm. Richard andMoncharmin;Polignymutteredafewwordsofexcusetotheguests;andallfourwentintothemanagers'office.IleaveM.Moncharmintocompletethestory.InhisMemoirs,hesays:

"Mm.Debienne and Poligny seemed to growmore andmore excited, andtheyappearedtohavesomethingverydifficulttotellus.First,theyaskedusifweknewtheman,sittingattheendofthetable,whohadtoldthemofthedeathofJosephBuquet;and,whenweansweredinthenegative,theylookedstillmoreconcerned. They took the master-keys from our hands, stared at them for amomentandadvisedus tohavenewlocksmade,with thegreatestsecrecy, fortherooms,closetsandpresses thatwemightwishtohavehermeticallyclosed.Theysaidthissofunnilythatwebegantolaughandtoaskiftherewerethievesat the Opera. They replied that there was something worse, which was theGHOST.Webegantolaughagain,feelingsurethattheywereindulginginsomejokethatwasintendedtocrownour littleentertainment.Then,at theirrequest,webecame'serious,'resolvingtohumorthemandtoenterintothespiritofthegame.Theytoldusthattheyneverwouldhavespokentousoftheghost,iftheyhadnotreceivedformalordersfromtheghosthimselftoaskustobepleasanttohim and to grant any request that hemight make. However, in their relief atleavingadomainwherethattyrannicalshadeheldsway,theyhadhesitateduntilthe last moment to tell us this curious story, which our skeptical minds werecertainlynotpreparedtoentertain.ButtheannouncementofthedeathofJosephBuquet had served them as a brutal reminder that, whenever they haddisregarded the ghost'swishes, some fantastic or disastrous event had broughtthemtoasenseoftheirdependence.

"During theseunexpectedutterancesmade in a toneof themost secret andimportant confidence, I looked at Richard. Richard, in his student days, hadacquiredagreatreputationforpracticaljoking,andheseemedtorelishthedishwhichwasbeingservedup tohim inhis turn.Hedidnotmissamorselof it,thoughtheseasoningwasalittlegruesomebecauseofthedeathofBuquet.Henoddedhisheadsadly,whiletheothersspoke,andhisfeaturesassumedtheairofamanwhobitterlyregrettedhavingtakenovertheOpera,nowthatheknewthattherewasaghostmixedupinthebusiness.Icouldthinkofnothingbetterthantogivehimaservileimitationofthisattitudeofdespair.However,inspiteofallourefforts,wecouldnot,at the finish,helpburstingout laughing in thefaces of MM. Debienne and Poligny, who, seeing us pass straight from the

gloomieststateofmindtooneofthemostinsolentmerriment,actedasthoughtheythoughtthatwehadgonemad.

"Thejokebecamealittletedious;andRichardaskedhalf-seriouslyandhalfinjest:

"'But,afterall,whatdoesthisghostofyourswant?'

"M.Polignywenttohisdeskandreturnedwithacopyofthememorandum-book. The memorandum-book begins with the well-known words saying that'the management of the Opera shall give to the performance of the NationalAcademyofMusicthesplendorthatbecomesthefirstlyricstageinFrance'andends with Clause 98, which says that the privilege can be withdrawn if themanager infringes the conditions stipulated in thememorandum-book. This isfollowedbytheconditions,whicharefourinnumber.

"The copy produced by M. Poligny was written in black ink and exactlysimilartothatinourpossession,exceptthat,attheend,itcontainedaparagraphinredinkandinaqueer,laboredhandwriting,asthoughithadbeenproducedbydippingtheheadsofmatchesintotheink, thewritingofachildthathasnevergot beyond the down-strokes and has not learned to join its letters. Thisparagraphran,wordforword,asfollows:

"'5. Or if the manager, in any month, delay for more than a fortnight thepaymentoftheallowancewhichheshallmaketotheOperaghost,anallowanceoftwentythousandfrancsamonth,saytwohundredandfortythousandfrancsayear.'

"M. Poligny pointed with a hesitating finger to this last clause, which wecertainlydidnotexpect.

"'Isthisall?Doeshenotwantanythingelse?'askedRichard,withthegreatestcoolness.

"'Yes,hedoes,'repliedPoligny.

"Andheturnedoverthepagesofthememorandum-bookuntilhecametotheclausespecifyingthedaysonwhichcertainprivateboxesweretobereservedforthefreeuseofthepresidentoftherepublic,theministersandsoon.Attheendofthisclause,alinehadbeenadded,alsoinredink:

"'BoxFiveonthegrandtiershallbeplacedatthedisposaloftheOperaghostforeveryperformance.'

"Whenwesawthis,therewasnothingelseforustodobuttorisefromourchairs,shakeourtwopredecessorswarmlybythehandandcongratulatethemonthinkingofthischarminglittlejoke,whichprovedthattheoldFrenchsenseofhumor was never likely to become extinct. Richard added that he nowunderstoodwhyMM.DebienneandPolignywereretiringfromthemanagementof the National Academy of Music. Business was impossible with sounreasonableaghost.

"'Certainly, twohundredandforty thousandfrancsarenotbepickedupfortheasking,'saidM.Poligny,withoutmovingamuscleofhisface.'AndhaveyouconsideredwhatthelossoverBoxFivemeanttous?Wedidnotsellitonce;andnotonly that,butwehad to return thesubscription:why, it'sawful!Wereallycan'tworktokeepghosts!Weprefertogoaway!'

"'Yes,'echoedM.Debienne,'weprefertogoaway.Letusgo.'"

"Andhe stood up.Richard said: 'But, after all all, it seems tome that youweremuch too kind to the ghost. If I had such a troublesomeghost as that, Ishouldnothesitatetohavehimarrested.'

"'Buthow?Where?'theycried,inchorus.'Wehaveneverseenhim!'

"'Butwhenhecomestohisbox?'

"'WEHAVENEVERSEENHIMINHISBOX.'

"'Thensellit.'

"'SelltheOperaghost'sbox!Well,gentlemen,tryit.'

"Thereuponweall four left theoffice.Richardand Ihad 'never laughedsomuchinourlives.'"

ChapterIVBoxFive

ArmandMoncharminwrotesuchvoluminousMemoirsduringthefairlylongperiod of his co-management that we may well ask if he ever found time toattendtotheaffairsoftheOperaotherwisethanbytellingwhatwentonthere.M.Moncharmin did not know a note of music, but he called theminister ofeducation and fine arts by his Christian name, had dabbled a little in societyjournalismandenjoyedaconsiderableprivateincome.Lastly,hewasacharmingfellow and showed that hewas not lacking in intelligence, for, as soon as hemade up hismind to be a sleeping partner in theOpera, he selected the bestpossibleactivemanagerandwentstraighttoFirminRichard.

Firmin Richard was a very distinguished composer, who had published anumber of successful pieces of all kinds andwho liked nearly every form ofmusicandeverysortofmusician.Clearly,therefore,itwasthedutyofeverysortofmusician to likeM.FirminRichard.Theonly things tobesaidagainsthimwere that hewas rathermasterful in hisways and endowedwith a veryhastytemper.

ThefirstfewdayswhichthepartnersspentattheOperaweregivenovertothedelightoffindingthemselvestheheadofsomagnificentanenterprise;andtheyhad forgotten all about that curious, fantastic storyof theghost,whenanincident occurred that proved to them that the joke—if joke itwere—was notover.M.FirminRichardreachedhisoffice thatmorningateleveno'clock.Hissecretary,M.Remy,showedhimhalfadozen letterswhichhehadnotopenedbecause they were marked "private." One of the letters had at once attractedRichard'sattentionnotonlybecausetheenvelopewasaddressedinredink,butbecauseheseemedtohaveseenthewritingbefore.Hesoonrememberedthatitwastheredhandwritinginwhichthememorandum-bookhadbeensocuriouslycompleted.He recognized the clumsy childish hand.He opened the letter andread:

DEARMR.MANAGER:

Iamsorrytohavetotroubleyouatatimewhenyoumustbesoverybusy,renewing important engagements, signing fresh ones and generally displayingyourexcellent taste. IknowwhatyouhavedoneforCarlotta,Sorelliand littleJammesandforafewotherswhoseadmirablequalitiesoftalentorgeniusyou

havesuspected.

Of course, when I use these words, I do not mean to apply them to LaCarlotta,whosings likeasquirtandwhooughtnever tohavebeenallowedtoleavetheAmbassadeursandtheCafeJacquin;nortoLaSorelli,whooweshersuccessmainlytothecoach-builders;nortolittleJammes,whodanceslikeacalfinafield.AndIamnotspeakingofChristineDaaeeither,thoughhergeniusiscertain, whereas your jealousy prevents her from creating any important part.Whenall issaid,youarefreetoconductyourlittlebusinessasyouthinkbest,areyounot?

Allthesame,IshouldliketotakeadvantageofthefactthatyouhavenotyetturnedChristineDaae out of doors by hearing her this evening in the part ofSiebel,asthatofMargaritahasbeenforbiddenhersincehertriumphoftheotherevening; and I will ask you not to dispose of my box to-day nor on theFOLLOWING DAYS, for I can not end this letter without telling you howdisagreeably surprised I have been once or twice, to hear, on arriving at theOpera,thatmyboxhadbeensold,atthebox-office,byyourorders.

I did not protest, first, because I dislike scandal, and, second, because Ithought that yourpredecessors,MM.DebienneandPoligny,whowere alwayscharmingtome,hadneglected,beforeleaving,tomentionmylittlefadstoyou.Ihave now received a reply from those gentlemen to my letter asking for anexplanation, and this reply proves that you know all aboutmyMemorandum-Bookand,consequently,thatyouaretreatingmewithoutrageouscontempt.IFYOUWISH TO LIVE IN PEACE, YOUMUSTNOT BEGIN BY TAKINGAWAYMYPRIVATEBOX.

Believe me to be, dear Mr. Manager, without prejudice to these littleobservations,

YourMostHumbleandObedientServant,OPERAGHOST.

The letter was accompanied by a cutting from the agony-column of theRevueTheatrale,whichran:

O. G.—There is no excuse for R. and M. We told them and left yourmemorandum-bookintheirhands.Kindregards.

M.FirminRichardhadhardlyfinishedreading this letterwhenM.ArmandMoncharmin entered, carrying one exactly similar. They looked at each otherandburstoutlaughing.

"Theyarekeepingupthejoke,"saidM.Richard,"butIdon'tcallitfunny."

"What does it all mean?" asked M. Moncharmin. "Do they imagine that,becausetheyhavebeenmanagersoftheOpera,wearegoingtoletthemhaveaboxforanindefiniteperiod?"

"Iamnotinthemoodtoletmyselfbelaughedatlong,"saidFirminRichard.

"It's harmless enough," observed Armand Moncharmin. "What is it theyreallywant?Aboxforto-night?"

M.FirminRichard toldhis secretary to sendBoxFiveon thegrand tier toMm.DebienneandPoligny,ifitwasnotsold.Itwasnot.Itwassentofftothem.DebiennelivedatthecorneroftheRueScribeandtheBoulevarddesCapucines;Poligny, in the Rue Auber. O. Ghost's two letters had been posted at theBoulevarddesCapucinespost-office,asMoncharminremarkedafterexaminingtheenvelopes.

"Yousee!"saidRichard.

Theyshruggedtheirshouldersandregrettedthattwomenofthatageshouldamusethemselveswithsuchchildishtricks.

"Theymighthavebeencivil,forallthat!"saidMoncharmin."DidyounoticehowtheytreatuswithregardtoCarlotta,SorelliandLittleJammes?"

"Why,mydear fellow, these twoaremadwith jealousy!To think that theywent to the expense of, an advertisement in the Revue Theatrale! Have theynothingbettertodo?"

"By theway,"saidMoncharmin,"theyseemtobegreatly interested in thatlittleChristineDaae!"

"YouknowaswellasIdothatshehasthereputationofbeingquitegood,"saidRichard.

"Reputations are easily obtained," replied Moncharmin. "Haven't I areputation for knowing all about music? And I don't know one key fromanother."

"Don'tbeafraid:youneverhadthatreputation,"Richarddeclared.

Thereuponheorderedtheartiststobeshownin,who,forthelasttwohours,hadbeenwalkingupanddownoutsidethedoorbehindwhichfameandfortune—ordismissal—awaitedthem.

The whole day was spent in discussing, negotiating, signing or cancellingcontracts;andthetwooverworkedmanagerswenttobedearly,withoutsomuchas casting a glance at Box Five to seewhetherM.Debienne andM. Polignywereenjoyingtheperformance.

Nextmorning,themanagersreceivedacardofthanksfromtheghost:

DEAR,MR.MANAGER:

Thanks. Charming evening. Daae exquisite. Choruses want waking up.Carlotta a splendid commonplace instrument. Will write you soon for the240,000francs,or233,424fr.70c., tobecorrect.Mm.DebienneandPolignyhavesentmethe6,575fr.30c.representingthefirsttendaysofmyallowanceforthecurrentyear;theirprivilegesfinishedontheeveningofthetenthinst.

Kindregards.O.G.

Ontheotherhand,therewasaletterfromMm.DebienneandPoligny:

GENTLEMEN:

We are much obliged for your kind thought of us, but you will easilyunderstandthattheprospectofagainhearingFaust,pleasantthoughitistoex-managersoftheOpera,cannotmakeusforgetthatwehavenorighttooccupyBoxFiveonthegrandtier,whichistheexclusivepropertyofHIMofwhomwespoketoyouwhenwewentthroughthememorandum-bookwithyouforthelasttime.SeeClause98,finalparagraph.

Accept,gentlemen,etc.

"Oh, those fellows are beginning to annoy me!" shouted Firmin Richard,snatchinguptheletter.

AndthateveningBoxFivewassold.

Thenextmorning,Mm.RichardandMoncharmin,onreaching theiroffice,foundan inspector's report relating toan incident thathadhappened, thenightbefore,inBoxFive.Igivetheessentialpartofthereport:

Iwasobliged tocall inamunicipalguard twice, thisevening, toclearBoxFive on the grand tier, once at the beginning and once in the middle of thesecond act. The occupants,who arrived as the curtain rose on the second act,created a regular scandal by their laughter and their ridiculous observations.Therewerecriesof"Hush!"allaroundthemandthewholehousewasbeginningto protest,when the box-keeper came to fetchme. I entered the box and saidwhat I thought necessary. The people did not seem tome to be in their rightmind; and theymade stupid remarks. I said that, if the noise was repeated, Ishouldbecompelled toclear thebox.Themoment I left, Iheard the laughingagain,withfreshprotestsfromthehouse.Ireturnedwithamunicipalguard,whoturnedthemout.Theyprotested,stilllaughing,sayingtheywouldnotgounlessthey had theirmoney back.At last, they became quiet and I allowed them toenter the box again. The laughter at once recommenced; and, this time, I hadthemturnedoutdefinitely.

"Sendfortheinspector,"saidRichardtohissecretary,whohadalreadyreadthereportandmarkeditwithbluepencil.

M. Remy, the secretary, had foreseen the order and called the inspector atonce.

"Telluswhathappened,"saidRichardbluntly.

Theinspectorbegantosplutterandreferredtothereport.

"Well,butwhatwerethosepeoplelaughingat?"askedMoncharmin.

"Theymust have been dining, sir, and seemedmore inclined to lark aboutthan to listen togoodmusic.Themoment theyentered thebox, theycameoutagainandcalledthebox-keeper,whoaskedthemwhattheywanted.Theysaid,'Lookinthebox:there'snoonethere,isthere?''No,'saidthewoman.'Well,'said

they, 'when we went in, we heard a voice saying THAT THE BOX WASTAKEN!'"

M.MoncharmincouldnothelpsmilingashelookedatM.Richard;butM.Richarddidnotsmile.Hehimselfhaddonetoomuchinthatwayinhistimenottorecognize,intheinspector'sstory,allthemarksofoneofthosepracticaljokeswhichbeginbyamusingandendbyenragingthevictims.Theinspector,tocurryfavorwithM.Moncharmin,whowassmiling,thoughtitbesttogiveasmiletoo.Amostunfortunatesmile!M.Richardglaredathissubordinate,whothenceforthmadeithisbusinesstodisplayafaceofutterconsternation.

"However,whenthepeoplearrived,"roaredRichard,"therewasnooneinthebox,wasthere?"

"Notasoul,sir,notasoul!Norintheboxontheright,norintheboxontheleft: not a soul, sir, I swear! The box-keeper told it me often enough, whichprovesthatitwasallajoke."

"Oh,youagree,doyou?"saidRichard."Youagree!It'sajoke!Andyouthinkitfunny,nodoubt?"

"Ithinkitinverybadtaste,sir."

"Andwhatdidthebox-keepersay?"

"Oh,shejustsaidthatitwastheOperaghost.That'sallshesaid!"

Andtheinspectorgrinned.Buthesoonfoundthathehadmadeamistakeingrinning, for the words had no sooner left his mouth thanM. Richard, fromgloomy,becamefurious.

"Send for the box-keeper!" he shouted. "Send for her! This minute! Thisminute!Andbringherintomehere!Andturnallthosepeopleout!"

The inspector tried to protest, butRichard closed hismouthwith an angryorder toholdhis tongue.Then,when thewretchedman's lips seemed shut forever,themanagercommandedhimtoopenthemoncemore.

"Whoisthis'Operaghost?'"hesnarled.

Buttheinspectorwasbythistimeincapableofspeakingaword.Hemanagedtoconvey,byadespairinggesture,thatheknewnothingaboutit,orratherthathedidnotwishtoknow.

"Haveyoueverseenhim,haveyouseentheOperaghost?"

Theinspector,bymeansofavigorousshakeofthehead,deniedeverhavingseentheghostinquestion.

"Verywell!"saidM.Richardcoldly.

The inspector's eyes started out of his head, as though to ask why themanagerhadutteredthatominous"Verywell!"

"BecauseI'mgoingtosettletheaccountofanyonewhohasnotseenhim!"explained the manager. "As he seems to be everywhere, I can't have peopletelling me that they see him nowhere. I like people to work for me when Iemploythem!"

Havingsaidthis,M.Richardpaidnoattentiontotheinspectoranddiscussedvariousmattersofbusinesswithhisacting-manager,whohadenteredtheroommeanwhile.Theinspectorthoughthecouldgoandwasgently—oh,sogently!—sidling toward the door, whenM. Richard nailed theman to the floor with athundering:

"Staywhereyouare!"

M.Remyhad sent for thebox-keeper to theRuedeProvence, close to theOpera,whereshewasengagedasaporteress.Shesoonmadeherappearance.

"What'syourname?"

"Mme.Giry.You knowmewell enough, sir; I'm themother of littleGiry,littleMeg,what!"

Thiswassaidinsoroughandsolemnatonethat,foramoment,M.Richardwasimpressed.HelookedatMme.Giry,inherfadedshawl,herwornshoes,herold taffeta dress and dingy bonnet. It was quite evident from the manager'sattitude, thatheeitherdidnotknowor couldnot rememberhavingmetMme.Giry,norevenlittleGiry,noreven"littleMeg!"ButMme.Giry'spridewasso

greatthatthecelebratedbox-keeperimaginedthateverybodyknewher.

"Never heard of her!" the manager declared. "But that's no reason, Mme.Giry,why I shouldn't ask youwhat happened last night tomake you and theinspectorcallinamunicipalguard."

"I was just wanting to see you, sir, and talk to you about it, so that youmightn't have the same unpleasantness asM.Debienne andM. Poligny. Theywouldn'tlistentomeeither,atfirst."

"I'mnotaskingyouaboutallthat.I'maskingwhathappenedlastnight."

Mme.Giryturnedpurplewithindignation.Neverhadshebeenspokentolikethat.Sheroseasthoughtogo,gatheringupthefoldsofherskirtandwavingthefeathersofherdingybonnetwithdignity,but,changinghermind,shesatdownagainandsaid,inahaughtyvoice:

"I'lltellyouwhathappened.Theghostwasannoyedagain!"

Thereupon,asM.Richardwasonthepointofburstingout,M.Moncharmininterferedandconducted the interrogatory,whence itappeared thatMme.Girythoughtitquitenaturalthatavoiceshouldbeheardtosaythataboxwastaken,whentherewasnobodyinthebox.Shewasunabletoexplainthisphenomenon,whichwasnotnewtoher,exceptbytheinterventionoftheghost.Nobodycouldseetheghostinhisbox,buteverybodycouldhearhim.Shehadoftenheardhim;and theycouldbelieveher, for shealwaysspoke the truth.TheycouldaskM.Debienne and M. Poligny, and anybody who knew her; and also M. IsidoreSaack,whohadhadalegbrokenbytheghost!

"Indeed!" said Moncharmin, interrupting her. "Did the ghost break poorIsidoreSaack'sleg?"

Mme.Giryopenedhereyeswithastonishmentatsuchignorance.However,sheconsentedtoenlightenthosetwopoorinnocents.ThethinghadhappenedinM. Debienne and M. Poligny's time, also in Box Five and also during aperformanceofFAUST.Mme.Girycoughed,clearedherthroat—itsoundedasthoughshewerepreparingtosingthewholeofGounod'sscore—andbegan:

"Itwaslikethis,sir.Thatnight,M.Manieraandhislady,thejewelersintheRueMogador,were sitting in the front of the box,with their great friend,M.

Isidore Saack, sitting behind Mme. Maniera. Mephistopheles was singing"—Mme.Giryhereburstintosongherself—"'Catarina,whileyouplayatsleeping,'and thenM.Maniera heard a voice in his right ear (hiswifewas on his left)saying, 'Ha,ha!Julie'snotplayingatsleeping!'HiswifehappenedtobecalledJulie.So.M.Manieraturnstotherighttoseewhowastalkingtohimlikethat.Nobody there! He rubs his ear and asks himself, if he's dreaming. ThenMephistopheles went on with his serenade... But, perhaps I'm boring yougentlemen?"

"No,no,goon."

"You are too good, gentlemen,"with a smirk. "Well, then,Mephistopheleswentonwithhisserenade"—Mme.Giry,burstintosongagain—"'Saint,unclosethy portals holy and accord the bliss, to amortal bending lowly, of a pardon-kiss.'And thenM.Maniera again hears the voice in his right ear, saying, thistime, 'Ha, ha! Juliewouldn'tmind according a kiss to Isidore!' Then he turnsroundagain,but, this time, totheleft;andwhatdoyouthinkhesees?Isidore,whohadtakenhislady'shandandwascoveringitwithkissesthroughthelittleroundplace in theglove—like this,gentlemen"—rapturouslykissing thebitofpalmleftbareinthemiddleofherthreadgloves."Thentheyhadalivelytimebetweenthem!Bang!Bang!M.Maniera,whowasbigandstrong,likeyou,M.Richard,gavetwoblowstoM.IsidoreSaack,whowassmallandweaklikeM.Moncharmin,savinghispresence.Therewasagreatuproar.Peopleinthehouseshouted,'Thatwilldo!Stopthem!He'llkillhim!'Then,atlast,M.IsidoreSaackmanagedtorunaway."

"Then the ghost had not broken his leg?" asked M. Moncharmin, a littlevexedthathisfigurehadmadesolittleimpressiononMme.Giry.

"Hedidbreakitforhim,sir,"repliedMme.Giryhaughtily."Hebrokeitforhimonthegrandstaircase,whichherandowntoofast,sir,anditwillbelongbeforethepoorgentlemanwillbeabletogoupitagain!"

"Did the ghost tell youwhat he said inM.Maniera's right ear?" askedM.Moncharmin,withagravitywhichhethoughtexceedinglyhumorous.

"No,sir,itwasM.Manierahimself.So——"

"Butyouhavespokentotheghost,mygoodlady?"

"AsI'mspeakingtoyounow,mygoodsir!"Mme.Giryreplied.

"And,whentheghostspeakstoyou,whatdoeshesay?"

"Well,hetellsmetobringhimafootstool!"

This time, Richard burst out laughing, as didMoncharmin and Remy, thesecretary.Only the inspector,warned by experience,was careful not to laugh,whileMme.Giryventuredtoadoptanattitudethatwaspositivelythreatening.

"Instead of laughing," she cried indignantly, "you'd do better to do as M.Polignydid,whofoundoutforhimself."

"Foundoutaboutwhat?"askedMoncharmin,whohadneverbeensomuchamusedinhislife.

"Abouttheghost,ofcourse!...Lookhere..."

Shesuddenlycalmedherself, feeling that thiswasa solemnmoment inherlife:

"LOOK HERE," she repeated. "They were playing La Juive. M. Polignythought he would watch the performance from the ghost's box... Well, whenLeopold cries, 'Let us fly!'—you know—and Eleazer stops them and says,'Whithergoye?'...well,M.Poligny—Iwaswatchinghimfromthebackofthenextbox,whichwasempty—M.Polignygotupandwalkedoutquitestiffly,likeastatue,andbeforeIhadtimetoaskhim,'Whithergoye?'likeEleazer,hewasdownthestaircase,butwithoutbreakinghisleg.

"Still, that doesn't let us knowhow theOperaghost came to askyou for afootstool,"insistedM.Moncharmin.

"Well, from that evening, noone tried to take the ghost's private box fromhim.Themanagergaveordersthathewastohaveitateachperformance.And,wheneverhecame,heaskedmeforafootstool."

"Tut, tut! A ghost asking for a footstool! Then this ghost of yours is awoman?"

"No,theghostisaman."

"Howdoyouknow?"

"Hehasaman'svoice,oh,suchalovelyman'svoice!Thisiswhathappens:Whenhecomestotheopera,it'susuallyinthemiddleofthefirstact.HegivesthreelittletapsonthedoorofBoxFive.ThefirsttimeIheardthosethreetaps,whenIknewtherewasnooneinthebox,youcanthinkhowpuzzledIwas!Iopenedthedoor,listened,looked;nobody!AndthenIheardavoicesay,'Mme.Jules' my poor husband's name was Jules—'a footstool, please.' Saving yourpresence, gentlemen, itmademe feel all-overish like. But the voicewent on,'Don'tbefrightened,Mme.Jules,I'mtheOperaghost!'Andthevoicewassosoftand kind that I hardly felt frightened. THE VOICEWAS SITTING IN THECORNERCHAIR,ONTHERIGHT,INTHEFRONTROW."

"WasthereanyoneintheboxontherightofBoxFive?"askedMoncharmin.

"No;BoxSeven,andBoxThree, theoneonthe left,werebothempty.Thecurtainhadonlyjustgoneup."

"Andwhatdidyoudo?"

"Well,Ibroughtthefootstool.Ofcourse, itwasn'tforhimselfhewantedit,butforhislady!ButIneverheardhernorsawher."

"Eh?What? So now the ghost ismarried!" The eyes of the twomanagerstraveledfromMme.Girytotheinspector,who,standingbehindthebox-keeper,waswaving his arms to attract their attention. He tapped his foreheadwith adistressfulforefinger,toconveyhisopinionthatthewidowJulesGirywasmostcertainly mad, a piece of pantomime which confirmed M. Richard in hisdetermination to get rid of an inspector who kept a lunatic in his service.Meanwhile, the worthy lady went on about her ghost, now painting hisgenerosity:

"At theendof theperformance,healwaysgivesme twofrancs, sometimesfive,sometimeseven ten,whenhehasbeenmanydayswithoutcoming.Only,sincepeoplehavebeguntoannoyhimagain,hegivesmenothingatall.

"Excuseme,mygoodwoman," saidMoncharmin,whileMme.Giry tossedthefeathersinherdingyhatatthispersistentfamiliarity,"excuseme,howdoestheghostmanagetogiveyouyourtwofrancs?"

"Why,heleavesthemonthelittleshelfinthebox,ofcourse.Ifindthemwiththeprogram,whichIalwaysgivehim.Someevenings,Ifindflowersinthebox,arosethatmusthavedroppedfromhislady'sbodice...forhebringsaladywithhimsometimes;oneday,theyleftafanbehindthem."

"Oh,theghostleftafan,didhe?Andwhatdidyoudowithit?"

"Well,Ibroughtitbacktotheboxnextnight."

Heretheinspector'svoicewasraised.

"You'vebrokentherules;Ishallhavetofineyou,Mme.Giry."

"Holdyourtongue,youfool!"mutteredM.FirminRichard.

"Youbroughtbackthefan.Andthen?"

"Well,then,theytookitawaywiththem,sir;itwasnotthereattheendoftheperformance; and in itsplace they leftmeaboxofEnglish sweets,which I'mveryfondof.That'soneoftheghost'sprettythoughts."

"Thatwilldo,Mme.Giry.Youcango."

WhenMme.Giryhadbowedherselfout,withthedignitythatneverdesertedher, themanager told the inspector that theyhaddecided todispensewith thatoldmadwoman'sservices;and,whenhehadgoneinhisturn,theyinstructedtheacting-manager tomake up the inspector's accounts. Left alone, themanagerstold eachother of the ideawhich theyboth had inmind,whichwas that theyshouldlookintothatlittlematterofBoxFivethemselves.

ChapterVTheEnchantedViolin

Christine Daae, owing to intrigues to which I will return later, did notimmediatelycontinuehertriumphattheOpera.Afterthefamousgalanight,shesangonceattheDuchessdeZurich's;butthiswasthelastoccasiononwhichshewas heard in private. She refused, without plausible excuse, to appear at a

charityconcerttowhichshehadpromisedherassistance.Sheactedthroughoutasthoughshewerenolongerthemistressofherowndestinyandasthoughshefearedafreshtriumph.

SheknewthattheComtedeChagny,topleasehisbrother,haddonehisbestonherbehalfwithM.Richard;andshewrotetothankhimandalsotoaskhimtocease speaking in her favor. Her reason for this curious attitude was neverknown.Somepretended that itwasdue tooverweeningpride;others spokeofherheavenlymodesty.Butpeopleonthestagearenotsomodestasallthat;andIthinkthatIshallnotbefarfromthetruthifIascribeheractionsimplytofear.Yes,IbelievethatChristineDaaewasfrightenedbywhathadhappenedtoher.IhavealetterofChristine's(itformspartofthePersian'scollection),relatingtothisperiod,whichsuggestsafeelingofabsolutedismay:

"Idon'tknowmyselfwhenIsing,"writesthepoorchild.

She showed herself nowhere; and the Vicomte de Chagny tried in vain tomeether.Hewrotetoher,askingtocalluponher,butdespairedofreceivingareplywhen,onemorning,shesenthimthefollowingnote:

MONSIEUR:

Ihavenotforgottenthelittleboywhowentintotheseatorescuemyscarf.IfeelthatImustwritetoyouto-day,whenIamgoingtoPerros,infulfilmentofasacredduty.To-morrowistheanniversaryofthedeathofmypoorfather,whomyouknewandwhowasveryfondofyou.Heisburiedthere,withhisviolin,inthegraveyardof the littlechurch,at thebottomof theslopewhereweused toplayaschildren,beside the roadwhere,whenwewerea littlebigger,wesaidgood-byforthelasttime.

The Vicomte de Chagny hurriedly consulted a railway guide, dressed asquickly as he could,wrote a few lines for his valet to take to his brother andjumpedintoacabwhichbroughthimtotheGareMontparnassejustintimetomiss themorning train.Hespentadismalday in townanddidnot recoverhisspiritsuntiltheevening,whenhewasseatedinhiscompartmentintheBrittanyexpress. He read Christine's note over and over again, smelling its perfume,recalling thesweetpicturesofhischildhood,andspent the restof that tediousnightjourneyinfeverishdreamsthatbeganandendedwithChristineDaae.Daywas breaking when he alighted at Lannion. He hurried to the diligence for

Perros-Guirec.Hewastheonlypassenger.Hequestionedthedriverandlearnedthat,ontheeveningofthepreviousday,ayoungladywholookedlikeaParisianhadgonetoPerrosandputupattheinnknownastheSettingSun.

Thenearerhedrewtoher, themorefondlyherememberedthestoryof thelittleSwedishsinger.Mostofthedetailsarestillunknowntothepublic.

Therewasonce, ina littlemarket-townnotfar fromUpsala,apeasantwholivedtherewithhisfamily,diggingtheearthduringtheweekandsinginginthechoir on Sundays. This peasant had a little daughter to whom he taught themusical alphabet before she knew how to read. Daae's father was a greatmusician,perhapswithoutknowing it.Nota fiddler throughout the lengthandbreadthofScandinaviaplayedashedid.Hisreputationwaswidespreadandhewasalways invited to set thecouplesdancingatweddingsandother festivals.HiswifediedwhenChristinewasenteringuponhersixthyear.Thenthefather,who cared only for his daughter and hismusic, sold his patch of ground andwenttoUpsalainsearchoffameandfortune.Hefoundnothingbutpoverty.

He returned to the country, wandering from fair to fair, strumming hisScandinavianmelodies,whilehischild,whoneverlefthisside,listenedtohimin ecstasy or sang to his playing.One day, at Ljimby Fair, ProfessorValeriusheardthemandtookthemtoGothenburg.Hemaintainedthatthefatherwasthefirstviolinistintheworldandthatthedaughterhadthemakingofagreatartist.Hereducationand instructionwereprovided for.Shemade rapidprogressandcharmed everybodywith her prettiness, her grace ofmanner and her genuineeagernesstoplease.

When Valerius and his wife went to settle in France, they took Daae andChristinewiththem."Mamma"ValeriustreatedChristineasherdaughter.AsforDaae,hebegantopineawaywithhomesickness.HeneverwentoutofdoorsinParis,butlivedinasortofdreamwhichhekeptupwithhisviolin.Forhoursatatime, he remained locked up in his bedroom with his daughter, fiddling andsinging, very, very softly.SometimesMammaValeriuswould come and listenbehindthedoor,wipeawayatearandgodown-stairsagainontiptoe,sighingforherScandinavianskies.

Daae seemednot to recoverhis strengthuntil the summer,when thewholefamilywenttostayatPerros-Guirec,inafar-awaycornerofBrittany,wheretheseawasofthesamecolorasinhisowncountry.Oftenhewouldplayhissaddest

tunesonthebeachandpretendthattheseastoppeditsroaringtolistentothem.And thenhe inducedMammaValerius to indulgeaqueerwhimofhis.At thetimeofthe"pardons,"orBretonpilgrimages,thevillagefestivalanddances,hewentoffwithhisfiddle,asintheolddays,andwasallowedtotakehisdaughterwithhim foraweek.Theygave the smallesthamletsmusic to last themforayearandsleptatnightinabarn,refusingabedattheinn,lyingclosetogetheronthestraw,aswhen theyweresopoor inSweden.At thesame time, theywereveryneatlydressed,madenocollection,refusedthehalfpenceofferedthem;andthepeople aroundcouldnotunderstand the conductof this rustic fiddler,whotramped the roadswith thatpretty childwho sang like an angel fromHeaven.Theyfollowedthemfromvillagetovillage.

Oneday,alittleboy,whowasoutwithhisgoverness,madehertakealongerwalk thanhe intended, forhe couldnot tearhimself from the littlegirlwhosepure,sweetvoiceseemedtobindhimtoher.Theycametotheshoreofaninletwhich is still called Trestraou, but which now, I believe, harbors a casino orsomething of the sort. At that time, therewas nothing but sky and sea and astretchofgoldenbeach.Only,therewasalsoahighwind,whichblewChristine'sscarf out to sea.Christine gave a cry and put out her arms, but the scarfwasalreadyfaronthewaves.Thensheheardavoicesay:

"It'sallright,I'llgoandfetchyourscarfoutofthesea."

And she saw a little boy running fast, in spite of the outcries and theindignant protests of a worthy lady in black. The little boy ran into the sea,dressed as he was, and brought her back her scarf. Boy and scarf were bothsoaked through. The lady in black made a great fuss, but Christine laughedmerrilyandkissedthelittleboy,whowasnoneotherthantheVicomteRaouldeChagny,stayingatLannionwithhisaunt.

Duringtheseason,theysaweachotherandplayedtogetheralmosteveryday.Attheaunt'srequest,secondedbyProfessorValerius,Daaeconsentedtogivetheyoungviscountsomeviolinlessons.Inthisway,RaoullearnedtolovethesameairsthathadcharmedChristine'schildhood.Theyalsobothhadthesamecalmanddreamylittlecastofmind.Theydelightedinstories,inoldBretonlegends;and their favorite sport was to go and ask for them at the cottage-doors, likebeggars:

"Ma'am..."or,"Kindgentleman...haveyoualittlestorytotellus,please?"

Anditseldomhappenedthattheydidnothaveone"given"them;fornearlyevery oldBreton grandame has, at least once in her life, seen the "korrigans"dancebymoonlightontheheather.

Buttheirgreat treatwas, inthetwilight, inthegreatsilenceof theevening,afterthesunhadsetinthesea,whenDaaecameandsatdownbythemontheroadsideand,inalowvoice,asthoughfearinglestheshouldfrightentheghostswhom he evoked, told them the legends of the land of the North. And, themomenthestopped,thechildrenwouldaskformore.

Therewasonestorythatbegan:

"Akingsat ina littleboatononeof thosedeep,still lakes thatopen likeabrighteyeinthemidstoftheNorwegianmountains..."

Andanother:

"LittleLotte thoughtofeverythingandnothing.Herhairwasgoldenas thesun'sraysandhersoulasclearandblueashereyes.Shewheedledhermother,waskindtoherdoll,tookgreatcareofherfrockandherlittleredshoesandherfiddle, but most of all loved, when she went to sleep, to hear the Angel ofMusic."

Whiletheoldmantoldthisstory,RaoullookedatChristine'sblueeyesandgoldenhair;andChristinethoughtthatLottewasveryluckytoheartheAngelofMusicwhenshewenttosleep.TheAngelofMusicplayedapartinallDaddyDaae's tales; and he maintained that every great musician, every great artistreceived a visit from theAngel at least once in his life.Sometimes theAngelleans over their cradle, as happened to Lotte, and that is how there are littleprodigieswho play the fiddle at six better thanmen at fifty,which, youmustadmit,isverywonderful.Sometimes,theAngelcomesmuchlater,becausethechildrenarenaughtyandwon't learntheir lessonsorpractisetheirscales.And,sometimes,hedoesnotcomeatall,becausethechildrenhaveabadheartorabadconscience.

NooneeverseestheAngel;butheisheardbythosewhoaremeanttohearhim. He often comes when they least expect him, when they are sad anddisheartened. Then their ears suddenly perceive celestial harmonies, a divinevoice,whichtheyrememberalltheirlives.PersonswhoarevisitedbytheAngelquiverwithathrillunknowntotherestofmankind.Andtheycannottouchan

instrument,oropentheirmouthstosing,withoutproducingsoundsthatputallotherhumansoundstoshame.ThenpeoplewhodonotknowthattheAngelhasvisitedthosepersonssaythattheyhavegenius.

Little Christine asked her father if he had heard the Angel ofMusic. ButDaddyDaaeshookhisheadsadly;andthenhiseyeslitup,ashesaid:

"Youwillhearhimoneday,mychild!WhenIaminHeaven,Iwillsendhimtoyou!"

Daddywasbeginningtocoughatthattime.

Threeyearslater,RaoulandChristinemetagainatPerros.ProfessorValeriuswasdead,buthiswidowremainedinFrancewithDaddyDaaeandhisdaughter,whocontinuedtoplaytheviolinandsing,wrappingintheirdreamofharmonytheirkindpatroness,whoseemedhenceforthtoliveonmusicalone.Theyoungman,ashenowwas,hadcometoPerrosonthechanceoffindingthemandwentstraight to thehouse inwhich theyused tostay.Hefirstsawtheoldman;andthenChristineentered,carrying the tea-tray.She flushedat the sightofRaoul,whowentup toherandkissedher.Sheaskedhimafewquestions,performedherdutiesashostessprettily,tookupthetrayagainandlefttheroom.Thensheranintothegardenandtookrefugeonabench,apreytofeelingsthatstirredheryoung heart for the first time. Raoul followed her and they talked till theevening,veryshyly.Theywerequitechanged,cautiousastwodiplomatists,andtold each other things that had nothing to do with their budding sentiments.When they took leaveofeachotherby the roadside,Raoul,pressingakissonChristine'stremblinghand,said:

"Mademoiselle,Ishallneverforgetyou!"

Andhewentawayregrettinghiswords,forheknewthatChristinecouldnotbethewifeoftheVicomtedeChagny.

AsforChristine,shetriednottothinkofhimanddevotedherselfwhollytoherart.Shemadewonderfulprogressandthosewhoheardherprophesiedthatshewouldbethegreatestsingerintheworld.Meanwhile, thefatherdied;and,suddenly,sheseemedtohavelost,withhim,hervoice,hersoulandhergenius.Sheretainedjust,butonlyjust,enoughofthistoentertheCONSERVATOIRE,where she did not distinguish herself at all, attending the classes withoutenthusiasmandtakingaprizeonly topleaseoldMammaValerius,withwhom

shecontinuedtolive.

ThefirsttimethatRaoulsawChristineattheOpera,hewascharmedbythegirl'sbeautyandbythesweetimagesofthepastwhichitevoked,butwasrathersurprisedatthenegativesideofherart.Hereturnedtolistentoher.Hefollowedherinthewings.HewaitedforherbehindaJacob'sladder.Hetriedtoattractherattention.Morethanonce,hewalkedafterhertothedoorofherbox,butshedidnotseehim.Sheseemed,forthatmatter,toseenobody.Shewasallindifference.Raoulsuffered,forshewasverybeautifulandhewasshyanddarednotconfesshis love, even to himself. And then came the lightning-flash of the galaperformance:theheavenstornasunderandanangel'svoicehearduponearthforthedelightofmankindandtheuttercaptureofhisheart.

Andthen...andthentherewasthatman'svoicebehindthedoor—"Youmustloveme!"—andnooneintheroom...

Whydidshelaughwhenheremindedheroftheincidentofthescarf?Whydidshenotrecognizehim?Andwhyhadshewrittentohim?...

Perroswasreachedatlast.Raoulwalkedintothesmokysitting-roomoftheSettingSunandatoncesawChristinestandingbeforehim,smilingandshowingnoastonishment.

"Soyouhavecome,"shesaid."IfeltthatIshouldfindyouhere,whenIcamebackfrommass.Someonetoldmeso,atthechurch."

"Who?"askedRaoul,takingherlittlehandinhis.

"Why,mypoorfather,whoisdead."

Therewasasilence;andthenRaoulasked:

"Didyour father tell you that I love you,Christine, and that I cannot livewithoutyou?"

Christineblushedtotheeyesandturnedawayherhead.Inatremblingvoice,shesaid:

"Me?Youaredreaming,myfriend!"

Andsheburstoutlaughing,toputherselfincountenance.

"Don'tlaugh,Christine;Iamquiteserious,"Raoulanswered.

Andsherepliedgravely:"Ididnotmakeyoucometotellmesuchthingsasthat."

"You 'mademecome,'Christine;youknewthatyour letterwouldnot leavemeindignantandthatIshouldhastentoPerros.Howcanyouhavethoughtthat,ifyoudidnotthinkIlovedyou?"

"I thought youwould remember our games here, as children, inwhichmyfathersooftenjoined.Ireallydon'tknowwhatIthought...PerhapsIwaswrongtowritetoyou...ThisanniversaryandyoursuddenappearanceinmyroomattheOpera, theotherevening, remindedmeof the timelongpastandmademewritetoyouasthelittlegirlthatIthenwas..."

TherewassomethinginChristine'sattitudethatseemedtoRaoulnotnatural.Hedidnotfeelanyhostilityinher;farfromit:thedistressedaffectionshininginhereyestoldhimthat.Butwhywasthisaffectiondistressed?Thatwaswhathewishedtoknowandwhatwasirritatinghim.

"Whenyousawmeinyourdressing-room,wasthatthefirsttimeyounoticedme,Christine?"

Shewasincapableoflying.

"No,"shesaid,"Ihadseenyouseveraltimesinyourbrother'sbox.Andalsoonthestage."

"I thought so!" saidRaoul, compressinghis lips. "But thenwhy,whenyousawmeinyourroom,atyourfeet,remindingyouthatIhadrescuedyourscarffromthesea,whydidyouanswerasthoughyoudidnotknowmeandalsowhydidyoulaugh?"

The tone of these questions was so rough that Christine stared at Raoulwithout replying. The young man himself was aghast at the sudden quarrelwhichhehaddaredtoraiseattheverymomentwhenhehadresolvedtospeakwordsofgentleness,loveandsubmissiontoChristine.Ahusband,aloverwithallrights,wouldtalknodifferentlytoawife,amistresswhohadoffendedhim.

Buthehadgonetoofarandsawnootherwayoutoftheridiculouspositionthantobehaveodiously.

"Youdon'tanswer!"hesaidangrilyandunhappily."Well, Iwillanswerforyou. It was because there was some one in the room who was in your way,Christine,someonethatyoudidnotwishtoknowthatyoucouldbeinterestedinanyoneelse!"

"Ifanyonewasinmyway,myfriend,"Christinebrokeincoldly,"ifanyonewasinmyway,thatevening,itwasyourself,sinceItoldyoutoleavetheroom!"

"Yes,sothatyoumightremainwiththeother!"

"What are you saying, monsieur?" asked the girl excitedly. "And to whatotherdoyourefer?"

"Tothemantowhomyousaid,'Isingonlyforyou!...to-nightIgaveyoumysoulandIamdead!'"

Christine seizedRaoul's arm and clutched it with a strengthwhich no onewouldhavesuspectedinsofrailacreature.

"Thenyouwerelisteningbehindthedoor?"

"Yes,becauseIloveyoueverything...AndIheardeverything..."

"Youheardwhat?"

Andtheyounggirl,becomingstrangelycalm,releasedRaoul'sarm.

"Hesaidtoyou,'Christine,youmustloveme!'"

At these words, a deathly pallor spread over Christine's face, dark ringsformed round her eyes, she staggered and seemed on the point of swooning.Raouldarted forward,with armsoutstretched,butChristinehadovercomeherpassingfaintnessandsaid,inalowvoice:

"Goon!Goon!Tellmeallyouheard!"

Atanutterlosstounderstand,Raoulanswered:"Iheardhimreply,whenyou

saidyouhadgivenhimyour soul, 'Your soul is a beautiful thing, child, and Ithankyou.Noemperoreverreceivedsofairagift.Theangelswepttonight.'"

Christinecarriedherhandtoherheart,apreytoindescribableemotion.Hereyes stared before her like a madwoman's. Raoul was terror-stricken. ButsuddenlyChristine'seyesmoistenedandtwogreattearstrickled,liketwopearls,downherivorycheeks.

"Christine!"

"Raoul!"

Theyoungmantriedtotakeherinhisarms,butsheescapedandfledingreatdisorder.

While Christine remained locked in her room, Raoul was at his wit's endwhat to do. He refused to breakfast. He was terribly concerned and bitterlygrievedtoseethehours,whichhehadhopedtofindsosweet,slippastwithoutthepresenceoftheyoungSwedishgirl.Whydidshenotcometoroamwithhimthrough thecountrywhere theyhad somanymemories incommon?Heheardthatshehadhadamasssaid,thatmorning,forthereposeofherfather'ssoulandspentalongtimeprayinginthelittlechurchandonthefiddler'stomb.Then,assheseemedtohavenothingmoretodoatPerrosand,infact,wasdoingnothingthere,whydidshenotgobacktoParisatonce?

Raoulwalkedaway,dejectedly, to thegraveyard inwhich thechurch stoodandwas indeedaloneamong the tombs, reading the inscriptions;but,whenheturned behind the apse, he was suddenly struck by the dazzling note of theflowersthatstraggledoverthewhiteground.Theyweremarvelousredrosesthathadblossomedinthemorning,inthesnow,givingaglimpseoflifeamongthedead, for death was all around him. It also, like the flowers, issued from theground,whichhadflungbackanumberofitscorpses.Skeletonsandskullsbythehundredwereheaped against thewall of the church, held in positionby awire that left thewholegruesomestackvisible.Deadmen'sbones,arrangedinrows, likebricks, to form the first courseuponwhich thewallsof the sacristyhad been built. The door of the sacristy opened in the middle of that bonystructure,asisoftenseeninoldBretonchurches.

Raoul said a prayer for Daae and then, painfully impressed by all thoseeternalsmilesonthemouthsofskulls,heclimbedtheslopeandsatdownonthe

edgeoftheheathoverlookingthesea.Thewindfellwiththeevening.Raoulwassurrounded by icy darkness, but he did not feel the cold. It was here, heremembered, that he used to come with little Christine to see the Korrigansdanceat the risingof themoon.Hehadnever seenany, thoughhis eyesweregood,whereasChristine,whowas a little shortsighted, pretended that she hadseenmany.He smiled at the thought and then suddenly gave a start.A voicebehindhimsaid:

"DoyouthinktheKorriganswillcomethisevening?"

ItwasChristine.Hetriedtospeak.Sheputherglovedhandonhismouth.

"Listen,Raoul.Ihavedecidedtotellyousomethingserious,veryserious...DoyourememberthelegendoftheAngelofMusic?"

"Ido indeed,"hesaid. "Ibelieve itwashere thatyour father first told it tous."

"Anditwasherethathesaid, 'WhenIaminHeaven,mychild,Iwillsendhimtoyou.'Well,Raoul,myfatherisinHeaven,andIhavebeenvisitedbytheAngelofMusic."

"Ihavenodoubtofit,"repliedtheyoungmangravely,foritseemedtohimthathisfriend,inobediencetoapiousthought,wasconnectingthememoryofherfatherwiththebrilliancyofherlasttriumph.

ChristineappearedastonishedattheVicomtedeChagny'scoolness:

"Howdoyouunderstandit?"sheasked,bringingherpalefacesoclosetohisthathemighthavethoughtthatChristinewasgoingtogivehimakiss;butsheonlywantedtoreadhiseyesinspiteofthedark.

"Iunderstand,"hesaid,"thatnohumanbeingcansingasyousangtheotherevening without the intervention of some miracle. No professor on earth canteachyousuchaccentsasthose.YouhaveheardtheAngelofMusic,Christine."

"Yes," she said solemnly, "IN MY DRESSING-ROOM. That is where hecomestogivememylessonsdaily."

"Inyourdressing-room?"heechoedstupidly.

"Yes,thatiswhereIhaveheardhim;andIhavenotbeentheonlyonetohearhim."

"Whoelseheardhim,Christine?"

"You,myfriend."

"I?IheardtheAngelofMusic?"

"Yes,theotherevening,itwashewhowastalkingwhenyouwerelisteningbehindthedoor.Itwashewhosaid,'Youmustloveme.'ButIthenthoughtthatIwastheonlyonetohearhisvoice.Imaginemyastonishmentwhenyoutoldme,thismorning,thatyoucouldhearhimtoo."

Raoulburstoutlaughing.Thefirstraysofthemooncameandshroudedthetwoyoungpeopleintheirlight.ChristineturnedonRaoulwithahostileair.Hereyes,usuallysogentle,flashedfire.

"Whatareyoulaughingat?YOUthinkyouheardaman'svoice,Isuppose?"

"Well!..."repliedtheyoungman,whoseideasbegantogrowconfusedinthefaceofChristine'sdeterminedattitude.

"It'syou,Raoul,whosaythat?You,anoldplayfellowofmyown!Afriendofmyfather's!Butyouhavechangedsincethosedays.Whatareyouthinkingof?Iamanhonestgirl,M.leVicomtedeChagny,andIdon't lockmyselfupinmydressing-roomwithmen'svoices. Ifyouhadopened thedoor,youwouldhaveseenthattherewasnobodyintheroom!"

"That'strue!Ididopenthedoor,whenyouweregone,andIfoundnooneintheroom."

"Soyousee!...Well?"

Theviscountsummonedupallhiscourage.

"Well,Christine,Ithinkthatsomebodyismakinggameofyou."

Shegaveacryandranaway.Heranafterher,but,inatoneoffierceanger,shecalledout:"Leaveme!Leaveme!"Andshedisappeared.

Raoulreturnedtotheinnfeelingveryweary,verylow-spiritedandverysad.HewastoldthatChristinehadgonetoherbedroomsayingthatshewouldnotbedowntodinner.Raouldinedalone,inaverygloomymood.Thenhewenttohisroomandtriedtoread,wenttobedandtriedtosleep.Therewasnosoundinthenextroom.

The hours passed slowly. It was about half-past eleven when he distinctlyheardsomeonemoving,withalight,stealthystep,intheroomnexttohis.ThenChristine had not gone to bed!Without troubling for a reason,Raoul dressed,taking carenot tomake a sound, andwaited.Waited forwhat?Howcouldhetell? But his heart thumped in his chest when he heard Christine's door turnslowlyon its hinges.Where could she be going, at this hour,when every onewas fast asleep at Perros? Softly opening the door, he saw Christine's whiteform,inthemoonlight,slippingalongthepassage.Shewentdownthestairsandhe leaned over the baluster above her. Suddenly he heard two voices in rapidconversation.Hecaughtonesentence:"Don'tlosethekey."

Itwasthelandlady'svoice.Thedoorfacingtheseawasopenedandlockedagain.Thenallwasstill.

Raoul ran back to his room and threw back thewindow. Christine's whiteformstoodonthedesertedquay.

Thefirst floorof theSettingSunwasatnogreatheightanda treegrowingagainstthewallheldoutitsbranchestoRaoul'simpatientarmsandenabledhimtoclimbdownunknowntothelandlady.Heramazement,therefore,wasallthegreaterwhen, the nextmorning, the youngmanwas brought back to her halffrozen, more dead than alive, and when she learned that he had been foundstretchedatfulllengthonthestepsofthehighaltarofthelittlechurch.Sheranatonce to tellChristine,whohurrieddownand,with thehelpof the landlady,did her best to revive him. He soon opened his eyes and was not long inrecoveringwhenhesawhisfriend'scharmingfaceleaningoverhim.

Afewweekslater,whenthetragedyattheOperacompelledtheinterventionof the public prosecutor,M.Mifroid, the commissary of police, examined theVicomte de Chagny touching the events of the night at Perros. I quote thequestionsandanswersasgivenintheofficialreportpp.150etseq.:

Q."DidMlle.Daaenotseeyoucomedownfromyourroombythecurious

roadwhichyouselected?"

R."No,monsieur,no,although,whenwalkingbehindher,Itooknopainstodeaden the sound ofmy footsteps. In fact, Iwas anxious that she should turnroundandseeme.IrealizedthatIhadnoexcuseforfollowingherandthatthiswayofspyingonherwasunworthyofme.Butsheseemednottohearmeandacted exactly as though I were not there. She quietly left the quay and thensuddenlywalkedquicklyuptheroad.Thechurch-clockhadstruckaquartertotwelveandIthoughtthatthismusthavemadeherhurry,forshebeganalmosttorunandcontinuedhasteninguntilshecametothechurch."

Q."Wasthegateopen?"

R."Yes,monsieur,andthissurprisedme,butdidnotseemtosurpriseMlle.Daae."

Q."Wastherenooneinthechurchyard?"

R."Ididnotseeanyone;and,iftherehadbeen,Imusthaveseenhim.Themoonwasshiningonthesnowandmadethenightquitelight."

Q."Wasitpossibleforanyonetohidebehindthetombstones?"

R. "No, monsieur. They were quite small, poor tombstones, partly hiddenunderthesnow,withtheircrossesjustabovetheleveloftheground.Theonlyshadowswere those of the crosses and ourselves. The church stood out quitebrightly. I never saw so clear a night. Itwas very fine and very cold and onecouldseeeverything."

Q."Areyouatallsuperstitious?"

R."No,monsieur,IamapractisingCatholic,"

Q."Inwhatconditionofmindwereyou?"

R. "Veryhealthy andpeaceful, I assureyou.Mlle.Daae's curious action ingoingoutatthathourhadworriedmeatfirst;but,assoonasIsawhergotothechurchyard, I thought that shemeant to fulfil some pious duty on her father'sgrave and I considered this sonatural that I recovered allmycalmness. Iwasonlysurprised thatshehadnotheardmewalkingbehindher, formyfootsteps

werequiteaudibleonthehardsnow.ButshemusthavebeentakenupwithherintentionsandIresolvednottodisturbher.Shekneltdownbyherfather'sgrave,madethesignofthecrossandbegantopray.Atthatmoment,itstruckmidnight.Atthelaststroke,IsawMlle.Daaelife{sic}hereyestotheskyandstretchoutherarmsasthoughinecstasy.Iwaswonderingwhatthereasoncouldbe,whenImyself raised my head and everything within me seemed drawn toward theinvisible,WHICHWASPLAYINGTHEMOSTPERFECTMUSIC!Christineand I knew that music; we had heard it as children. But it had never beenexecutedwithsuchdivineart,evenbyM.Daae.IrememberedallthatChristinehad toldmeof theAngelofMusic.TheairwasTheResurrectionofLazarus,whicholdM.Daaeusedtoplaytousinhishoursofmelancholyandoffaith.IfChristine'sAngelhadexisted,hecouldnothaveplayedbetter,thatnight,onthelatemusician'sviolin.When themusicstopped, I seemed tohearanoise fromtheskullsintheheapofbones;itwasasthoughtheywerechucklingandIcouldnothelpshuddering."

Q."Diditnotoccurtoyouthatthemusicianmightbehidingbehindthatveryheapofbones?"

R."Itwastheonethoughtthatdidoccurtome,monsieur,somuchsothatIomittedtofollowMlle.Daae,whenshestoodupandwalkedslowlytothegate.ShewassomuchabsorbedjustthenthatIamnotsurprisedthatshedidnotseeme."

Q."Thenwhathappenedthatyouwerefoundinthemorninglyinghalf-deadonthestepsofthehighaltar?"

R."Firstaskullrolledtomyfeet...thenanother...thenanother...Itwasasif Iwere themarkof thatghastlygameofbowls.AndIhadan idea that falsestepmusthavedestroyedthebalanceofthestructurebehindwhichourmusicianwas concealed. This surmise seemed to be confirmed when I saw a shadowsuddenlyglidealongthesacristywall.Iranup.Theshadowhadalreadypushedopen thedoor andentered the church.But Iwasquicker than the shadowandcaughtholdofacornerofitscloak.Atthatmoment,wewerejustinfrontofthehigh altar; and themoonbeams fell straight upon us through the stained-glasswindowsoftheapse.AsIdidnotletgoofthecloak,theshadowturnedround;and I saw a terrible death's head, which darted a look at me from a pair ofscorchingeyes.IfeltasifIwerefacetofacewithSatan;and,inthepresenceofthis unearthly apparition, my heart gave way, my courage failed me ... and I

remembernothingmoreuntilIrecoveredconsciousnessattheSettingSun."

ChapterVIAVisittoBoxFive

WeleftM.FirminRichardandM.ArmandMoncharminatthemomentwhentheyweredeciding"tolookintothatlittlematterofBoxFive."

Leavingbehindthemthebroadstaircasewhichleadsfromthelobbyoutsidethemanagers'offices to thestageand itsdependencies, theycrossed thestage,wentoutby the subscribers' door andentered thehouse through the first littlepassageon the left.Then theymade theirway through the front rowsof stallsandlookedatBoxFiveonthegrandtier,Theycouldnotseeitwell,becauseitwashalfindarknessandbecausegreatcoverswereflungovertheredvelvetoftheledgesofalltheboxes.

They were almost alone in the huge, gloomy house; and a great silencesurrounded them. It was the time whenmost of the stage-hands go out for adrink.Thestaffhadlefttheboardsforthemoment,leavingascenehalfset.Afewraysoflight,awan,sinisterlight,thatseemedtohavebeenstolenfromanexpiring luminary, fell through some opening or other upon an old tower thatraiseditspasteboardbattlementsonthestage;everything,inthisdeceptivelight,adopted a fantastic shape. In the orchestra stalls, the drugget covering themlooked like an angry sea, whose glaucouswaves had been suddenly renderedstationarybyasecretorderfromthestormphantom,who,aseverybodyknows,is called Adamastor. MM. Moncharmin and Richard were the shipwreckedmariners amid thismotionless turmoil of a calico sea. Theymade for the leftboxes,plowingtheirwaylikesailorswholeavetheirshipandtrytostruggletotheshore.Theeightgreatpolishedcolumnsstoodup in thedusk likesomanyhugepilessupportingthethreatening,crumbling,big-belliedcliffswhoselayerswere representedby the circular, parallel,waving lines of thebalconies of thegrand,firstandsecondtiersofboxes.Atthetop,rightontopofthecliff,lostinM.Lenepveu'scopperceiling,figuresgrinnedandgrimaced,laughedandjeeredatMM.RichardandMoncharmin'sdistress.Andyetthesefigureswereusuallyveryserious.TheirnameswereIsis,Amphitrite,Hebe,Pandora,Psyche,Thetis,Pomona, Daphne, Clytie, Galatea and Arethusa. Yes, Arethusa herself and

Pandora, whom we all know by her box, looked down upon the two newmanagersoftheOpera,whoendedbyclutchingatsomepieceofwreckageandfromtherestaredsilentlyatBoxFiveonthegrandtier.

Ihavesaidthattheyweredistressed.Atleast,Ipresumeso.M.Moncharmin,in any case, admits that he was impressed. To quote his own words, in hisMemoirs:

"ThismoonshineabouttheOperaghostinwhich,sincewefirsttookovertheduties of MM. Poligny and Debienne, we had been so nicely steeped"—Moncharmin's style is not always irreproachable—"had no doubt ended byblinding my imaginative and also my visual faculties. It may be that theexceptional surroundings in which we found ourselves, in the midst of anincrediblesilence,impressedustoanunusualextent.Itmaybethatwewerethesportofakindofhallucinationbroughtaboutbythesemi-darknessofthetheaterandthepartialgloomthatfilledBoxFive.Atanyrate,IsawandRichardalsosawashapeinthebox.Richardsaidnothing,norIeither.Butwespontaneouslyseizedeachother'shand.Westoodlikethatforsomeminutes,withoutmoving,withoureyesfixedonthesamepoint;butthefigurehaddisappeared.Thenwewent out and, in the lobby, communicated our impressions to each other andtalkedabout 'theshape.'ThemisfortunewasthatmyshapewasnotintheleastlikeRichard's.Ihadseenathinglikeadeath'sheadrestingontheledgeofthebox,whereasRichard saw the shape of an oldwomanwho looked likeMme.Giry.We soon discovered that we had really been the victims of an illusion,whereupon,withoutfurtherdelayandlaughinglikemadmen,werantoBoxFiveonthegrandtier,wentinsideandfoundnoshapeofanykind."

Box Five is just like all the other grand tier boxes. There is nothing todistinguishitfromanyoftheothers.M.MoncharminandM.Richard,ostensiblyhighlyamusedandlaughingateachother,movedthefurnitureofthebox,liftedtheclothsandthechairsandparticularlyexaminedthearm-chairinwhich"theman'svoice"usedtosit.Buttheysawthatitwasarespectablearm-chair,withnomagicaboutit.Altogether,theboxwasthemostordinaryboxintheworld,with its redhangings, its chairs, its carpet and its ledge covered in redvelvet.After, feeling the carpet in themost seriousmanner possible, and discoveringnothingmorehereoranywhereelse,theywentdowntothecorrespondingboxonthepittierbelow.InBoxFiveonthepittier,whichisjustinsidethefirstexitfromthestallsontheleft,theyfoundnothingworthmentioningeither.

"Those people are all making fools of us!" Firmin Richard ended byexclaiming. "It will be FAUST on Saturday: let us both see the performancefromBoxFiveonthegrandtier!"

ChapterVIIFaustandWhatFollowed

OntheSaturdaymorning,onreachingtheiroffice,thejointmanagersfoundaletterfromO.G.wordedintheseterms:

MYDEARMANAGERS:

Soitistobewarbetweenus?

If you still care for peace, here is my ultimatum. It consists of the fourfollowingconditions:

1.Youmust giveme backmy private box; and Iwish it to be atmy freedisposalfromhenceforward.

2.ThepartofMargaritashallbesungthiseveningbyChristineDaae.NevermindaboutCarlotta;shewillbeill.

3.IabsolutelyinsistuponthegoodandloyalservicesofMme.Giry,mybox-keeper,whomyouwillreinstateinherfunctionsforthwith.

4.LetmeknowbyaletterhandedtoMme.Giry,whowillseethatitreachesme, that you accept, as your predecessors did, the conditions in mymemorandum-book relating tomymonthly allowance. Iwill inform you laterhowyouaretopayittome.

Ifyourefuse,youwillgiveFAUSTto-nightinahousewithacurseuponit.

Takemyadviceandbewarnedintime.O.G.

"Lookhere,I'mgettingsickofhim,sickofhim!"shoutedRichard,bringinghisfistsdownonhisoffice-table.

Justthen,Mercier,theacting-manager,entered.

"Lachenelwouldliketoseeoneofyougentlemen,"hesaid."Hesaysthathisbusinessisurgentandheseemsquiteupset."

"Who'sLachenel?"askedRichard.

"He'syourstud-groom."

"Whatdoyoumean?Mystud-groom?"

"Yes,sir,"explainedMercier,"thereareseveralgroomsattheOperaandM.Lachenelisattheheadofthem."

"Andwhatdoesthisgroomdo?"

"Hehasthechiefmanagementofthestable."

"Whatstable?"

"Why,yours,sir,thestableoftheOpera."

"IsthereastableattheOpera?Uponmyword,Ididn'tknow.Whereisit?"

"Inthecellars,ontheRotundaside.It'saveryimportantdepartment;wehavetwelvehorses."

"Twelvehorses!Andwhatfor,inHeaven'sname?"

"Why,wewant trainedhorses for theprocessions in the Juive,TheProfetaandsoon;horses 'usedtotheboards.'It isthegrooms'businesstoteachthem.M.Lachenelisverycleveratit.HeusedtomanageFranconi'sstables."

"Verywell...butwhatdoeshewant?"

"Idon'tknow;Ineversawhiminsuchastate."

"Hecancomein."

M.Lachenelcamein,carryingariding-whip,withwhichhestruckhisrightbootinanirritablemanner.

"Goodmorning,M.Lachenel,"saidRichard,somewhatimpressed."Towhatdoweowethehonorofyourvisit?"

"Mr.Manager,Ihavecometoaskyoutogetridofthewholestable."

"What,youwanttogetridofourhorses?"

"I'mnottalkingofthehorses,butofthestablemen."

"Howmanystablemenhaveyou,M.Lachenel?"

"Sixstablemen!That'satleasttwotoomany."

"Theseare 'places,'"Mercierinterposed,"createdandforceduponusbytheunder-secretaryforfinearts.Theyarefilledbyprotegeesofthegovernmentand,ifImayventureto..."

"I don't care a hang for the government!" roared Richard. "We don't needmorethanfourstablemenfortwelvehorses."

"Eleven,"saidtheheadriding-master,correctinghim.

"Twelve,"repeatedRichard.

"Eleven,"repeatedLachenel.

"Oh,theacting-managertoldmethatyouhadtwelvehorses!"

"Ididhavetwelve,butIhaveonlyelevensinceCesarwasstolen."

AndM.Lachenelgavehimselfagreatsmackonthebootwithhiswhip.

"HasCesarbeenstolen?"criedtheacting-manager."Cesar,thewhitehorseintheProfeta?"

"There are not twoCesars," said the stud-groomdryly. "Iwas ten years atFranconi'sandIhaveseenplentyofhorsesinmytime.Well,therearenottwoCesars.Andhe'sbeenstolen."

"How?"

"Idon'tknow.Nobodyknows.That'swhyIhavecometoaskyoutosackthewholestable."

"Whatdoyourstablemensay?"

"Allsortsofnonsense.Someofthemaccusethesupers.Otherspretendthatit'stheacting-manager'sdoorkeeper..."

"My doorkeeper? I'll answer for him as I would for myself!" protestedMercier.

"But,afterall,M.Lachenel,"criedRichard,"youmusthavesomeidea."

"Yes,Ihave,"M.Lacheneldeclared."IhaveanideaandI'lltellyouwhatitis.There'snodoubtaboutitinmymind."Hewalkeduptothetwomanagersandwhispered."It'stheghostwhodidthetrick!"

Richardgaveajump.

"What,youtoo!Youtoo!"

"Howdoyoumean,Itoo?Isn'titnatural,afterwhatIsaw?"

"Whatdidyousee?"

"Isaw,asclearlyasInowseeyou,ablackshadowridingawhitehorsethatwasaslikeCesarastwopeas!"

"Anddidyourunafterthem?"

"I did and I shouted, but theywere too fast forme and disappeared in thedarknessoftheundergroundgallery."

M.Richardrose."Thatwilldo,M.Lachenel.Youcango...WewilllodgeacomplaintagainstTHEGHOST."

"Andsackmystable?"

"Oh,ofcourse!Goodmorning."

M.Lachenelbowedandwithdrew.Richardfoamedatthemouth.

"Settlethatidiot'saccountatonce,please."

"Heisafriendofthegovernmentrepresentative's!"Mercierventuredtosay.

"Andhe takeshisvermouthatTortoni'swithLagrene,SchollandPertuiset,thelion-hunter,"addedMoncharmin."Weshallhavethewholepressagainstus!He'lltellthestoryoftheghost;andeverybodywillbelaughingatourexpense!Wemayaswellbedeadasridiculous!"

"Allright,saynomoreaboutit."

At that moment the door opened. It must have been deserted by its usualCerberus,forMme.Giryenteredwithoutceremony,holdingaletterinherhand,andsaidhurriedly:

"I beg your pardon, excuseme, gentlemen, but I had a letter thismorningfromtheOperaghost.Hetoldmetocometoyou,thatyouhadsomethingto..."

Shedidnotcompletethesentence.ShesawFirminRichard'sface;anditwasaterriblesight.Heseemedreadytoburst.Hesaidnothing,hecouldnotspeak.Butsuddenlyheacted.First,hisleftarmseizeduponthequaintpersonofMme.Giry and made her describe so unexpected a semicircle that she uttered adespairing cry.Next, his right foot imprinted its sole on the black taffeta of askirtwhichcertainlyhadneverbeforeundergoneasimilaroutrage inasimilarplace.ThethinghappenedsoquicklythatMme.Giry,wheninthepassage,wasstill quite bewildered and seemed not to understand. But, suddenly, sheunderstood;andtheOperarangwithherindignantyells,herviolentprotestsandthreats.

Aboutthesametime,Carlotta,whohadasmallhouseofherownintheRueduFaubourgSt.Honore,rangforhermaid,whobroughtherletterstoherbed.Among them was an anonymous missive, written in red ink, in a hesitating,clumsyhand,whichran:

If you appear to-night, youmust be prepared for a greatmisfortune at themomentwhenyouopenyourmouthtosing...amisfortuneworsethandeath.

The letter took awayCarlotta's appetite for breakfast. Shepushedbackherchocolate,satupinbedandthoughthard.Itwasnotthefirst letterofthekindwhich she had received, but she never had one couched in such threatening

terms.

She thought herself, at that time, the victimof a thousand jealous attemptsandwentaboutsayingthatshehadasecretenemywhohadsworntoruinher.Shepretendedthatawickedplotwasbeinghatchedagainsther,acabalwhichwould come to a head one of those days; but she added that shewas not thewomantobeintimidated.

The truth is that, if therewasacabal, itwas ledbyCarlottaherselfagainstpoorChristine,whohadnosuspicionofit.CarlottahadneverforgivenChristinefor the triumphwhich she had achievedwhen taking her place at amoment'snotice. When Carlotta heard of the astounding reception bestowed upon herunderstudy,shewasatoncecuredofanincipientattackofbronchitisandabadfitofsulkingagainst themanagementandlost theslightest inclination toshirkherduties.Fromthattime,sheworkedwithallhermightto"smother"herrival,enlistingtheservicesofinfluentialfriendstopersuadethemanagersnottogiveChristine an opportunity for a fresh triumph. Certain newspapers which hadbeguntoextolthetalentofChristinenowinterestedthemselvesonlyinthefameofCarlotta.Lastly,inthetheateritself,thecelebrated,butheartlessandsoullessdivamade themost scandalous remarksaboutChristineand tried to causeherendlessminorunpleasantnesses.

WhenCarlottahadfinishedthinkingoverthethreatcontainedinthestrangeletter,shegotup.

"Weshallsee,"shesaid,addingafewoathsinhernativeSpanishwithaverydeterminedair.

Thefirstthingshesaw,whenlookingoutofherwindow,wasahearse.Shewasverysuperstitious;andthehearseandtheletterconvincedherthatshewasrunningthemostseriousdangersthatevening.Shecollectedallhersupporters,told them that she was threatened at that evening's performance with a plotorganizedbyChristineDaaeanddeclaredthattheymustplayatrickuponthatchitbyfillingthehousewithher,Carlotta's,admirers.Shehadnolackofthem,hadshe?Sherelieduponthemtoholdthemselvespreparedforanyeventualityandtosilencetheadversaries,if,asshefeared,theycreatedadisturbance.

M. Richard's private secretary called to ask after the diva's health andreturned with the assurance that she was perfectly well and that, "were shedying,"shewouldsing thepartofMargarita thatevening.Thesecretaryurgedher,inhischief'sname,tocommitnoimprudence,tostayathomealldayandtobecarefulofdrafts;andCarlottacouldnothelp,afterhehadgone,comparingthisunusualandunexpectedadvicewiththethreatscontainedintheletter.

Itwasfiveo'clockwhen thepostbroughtasecondanonymous letter in thesamehandasthefirst.Itwasshortandsaidsimply:

Youhaveabadcold.Ifyouarewise,youwillseethatitismadnesstotrytosingto-night.

Carlotta sneered, shrugged her handsome shoulders and sang two or threenotestoreassureherself.

Her friendswere faithful to their promise. Theywere all at theOpera thatnight, but looked round in vain for the fierce conspirators whom they wereinstructed tosuppress.Theonlyunusual thingwas thepresenceofM.RichardandM.Moncharmin inBox Five.Carlotta's friends thought that, perhaps, themanagershadwind,ontheirside,oftheproposeddisturbanceandthattheyhaddetermined to be in the house, so as to stop it then and there; but this wasunjustifiablesupposition,asthereaderknows.M.RichardandM.Moncharminwerethinkingofnothingbuttheirghost.

"Vain! Invaindo Icall, throughmyvigilweary,Oncreationand itsLord!Neverreplywillbreakthesilencedreary!Nosign!Nosingleword!"

Thefamousbaritone,CarolusFonta,hadhardlyfinishedDoctorFaust'sfirstappeal tothepowersofdarkness,whenM.FirminRichard,whowassittingintheghost'sownchair,thefrontchairontheright,leanedovertohispartnerandaskedhimchaffingly:

"Well,hastheghostwhisperedawordinyourearyet?"

"Wait,don'tbeinsuchahurry,"repliedM.ArmandMoncharmin,inthesamegay tone."Theperformancehasonlybegunandyouknowthat theghostdoesnotusuallycomeuntilthemiddleofthefirstact."

The first act passed without incident, which did not surprise Carlotta'sfriends,becauseMargaritadoesnot sing in thisact.As for themanagers, theylookedateachother,whenthecurtainfell.

"That'sone!"saidMoncharmin.

"Yes,theghostislate,"saidFirminRichard.

"It'snotabadhouse,"saidMoncharmin,"for'ahousewithacurseonit.'"

M. Richard smiled and pointed to a fat, rather vulgar woman, dressed inblack,sittinginastallinthemiddleoftheauditoriumwithamaninabroadclothfrock-coatoneithersideofher.

"Whoonearthare'those?'"askedMoncharmin.

"'Those,'mydearfellow,aremyconcierge,herhusbandandherbrother."

"Didyougivethemtheirtickets?"

"Idid...MyconciergehadneverbeentotheOpera—thisis,thefirsttime—and,assheisnowgoingtocomeeverynight,Iwantedhertohaveagoodseat,beforespendinghertimeshowingotherpeopletotheirs."

Moncharmin asked what he meant and Richard answered that he hadpersuadedhisconcierge, inwhomhehadthegreatestconfidence, tocomeandtakeMme.Giry'splace.Yes,hewouldliketoseeif,withthatwomaninsteadoftheoldlunatic,BoxFivewouldcontinuetoastonishthenatives?

"By the way," saidMoncharmin, "you know thatMother Giry is going tolodgeacomplaintagainstyou."

"Withwhom?Theghost?"

Theghost!Moncharminhadalmostforgottenhim.However,thatmysteriousperson did nothing to bring himself to thememory of themanagers; and theywerejustsayingsotoeachotherforthesecondtime,whenthedooroftheboxsuddenlyopenedtoadmitthestartledstage-manager.

"What's thematter?" theybothasked,amazedatseeinghimthereatsucha

time.

"It seems there's a plot got upbyChristineDaae's friends againstCarlotta.Carlotta'sfurious."

"Whatonearth...?"saidRichard,knittinghisbrows.

But the curtain rose on the kermess scene andRichardmade a sign to thestage-managertogoaway.Whenthetwowerealoneagain,MoncharminleanedovertoRichard:

"ThenDaaehasfriends?"heasked.

"Yes,shehas."

"Whom?"

Richardglancedacrossataboxonthegrandtiercontainingnoonebuttwomen.

"TheComtedeChagny?"

"Yes,hespoketomeinherfavorwithsuchwarmththat,ifIhadnotknownhimtobeSorelli'sfriend..."

"Really?Really?"saidMoncharmin."Andwhoisthatpaleyoungmanbesidehim?"

"That'shisbrother,theviscount."

"Heoughttobeinhisbed.Helooksill."

Thestagerangwithgaysong:

"Redorwhiteliquor,Coarseorfine!Whatcanitmatter,Sowehavewine?"

Students, citizens, soldiers,girls andmatronswhirled light-heartedlybeforetheinnwiththefigureofBacchusforasign.Siebelmadeherentrance.ChristineDaaelookedcharminginherboy'sclothes;andCarlotta'spartisansexpectedto

hearhergreetedwithanovationwhichwouldhaveenlightened themas to theintentionsofherfriends.Butnothinghappened.

Ontheotherhand,whenMargaritacrossedthestageandsangtheonlytwolinesallottedherinthissecondact:

"No,mylord,notaladyamI,noryetabeauty,Anddonotneedanarmtohelpmeonmyway,"

Carlottawasreceivedwithenthusiasticapplause.Itwassounexpectedandsouncalled for that those who knew nothing about the rumors looked at oneanotherandaskedwhatwashappening.Andthisactalsowasfinishedwithoutincident.

Theneverybodysaid:"Ofcourse,itwillbeduringthenextact."

Some, who seemed to be better informed than the rest, declared that the"row"wouldbeginwiththeballadof theKINGOFTHULEandrushedtothesubscribers' entrance to warn Carlotta. The managers left the box during theentr'acte to find out more about the cabal of which the stage-manager hadspoken; but they soon returned to their seats, shrugging their shoulders andtreatingthewholeaffairassilly.

Thefirstthingtheysaw,onenteringthebox,wasaboxofEnglishsweetsonthelittleshelfoftheledge.Whohadputit there?Theyaskedthebox-keepers,butnoneofthemknew.Thentheywentbacktotheshelfand,nexttotheboxofsweets,foundanoperaglass.Theylookedateachother.Theyhadnoinclinationtolaugh.AllthatMme.Giryhadtoldthemreturnedtotheirmemory...andthen...andthen...theyseemedtofeelacurioussortofdraftaroundthem...Theysatdowninsilence.

ThescenerepresentedMargarita'sgarden:

"Gentleflow'rsinthedew,Bemessagefromme..."

As she sang these first two lines,withher bunchof roses and lilacs inherhand,Christine, raisingherhead,saw theVicomtedeChagny inhisbox;and,from that moment, her voice seemed less sure, less crystal-clear than usual.Somethingseemedtodeadenanddullhersinging...

"Whataqueergirlsheis!"saidoneofCarlotta'sfriendsinthestalls,almostaloud."Theotherdayshewasdivine;andto-nightshe'ssimplybleating.Shehasnoexperience,notraining."

"Gentleflow'rs,lieyethereAndtellherfromme..."

Theviscountputhisheadunderhishandsandwept.Thecount,behindhim,viciouslygnawedhismustache, shruggedhis shoulders and frowned.Forhim,usually so cold and correct, to betray his inner feelings like that, by outwardsigns,thecountmustbeveryangry.Hewas.Hehadseenhisbrotherreturnfromarapidandmysterious journey inanalarmingstateofhealth.Theexplanationthat followed was unsatisfactory and the count asked Christine Daae for anappointment.Shehadtheaudacitytoreplythatshecouldnotseeeitherhimorhisbrother...

"WouldshebutdeigntohearmeAndwithonesmiletocheerme..."

"Thelittlebaggage!"growledthecount.

Andhewonderedwhat shewanted.What shewas hoping for... Shewas avirtuous girl, shewas said to have no friend, no protector of any sort ... ThatangelfromtheNorthmustbeveryartful!

Raoul, behind the curtain of his hands that veiledhis boyish tears, thoughtonly of the letter which he received on his return to Paris, where Christine,fleeingfromPerroslikeathiefinthenight,hadarrivedbeforehim:

MYDEARLITTLEPLAYFELLOW:

Youmusthavethecouragenottoseemeagain,nottospeakofmeagain.Ifyoulovemejustalittle,dothisforme,formewhowillneverforgetyou,mydearRaoul.Mylifedependsuponit.Yourlifedependsuponit.YOURLITTLECHRISTINE.

Thundersofapplause.Carlottamadeherentrance.

"IwishIcouldbutknowwhowasheThataddressedme,Ifhewasnoble,or,atleast,whathisnameis..."

WhenMargarita had finished singing the ballad of theKINGOFTHULE,shewasloudlycheeredandagainwhenshecametotheendofthejewelsong:

"Ah,thejoyofpastcompareThesejewelsbrighttowear!..."

Thenceforth,certainofherself,certainofherfriendsinthehouse,certainofher voice andher success, fearingnothing,Carlotta flungherself intoher partwithoutrestraintofmodesty ...ShewasnolongerMargarita,shewasCarmen.Shewasapplaudedallthemore;andherdebutwithFaustseemedabouttobringheranewsuccess,whensuddenly...aterriblethinghappened.

Fausthadkneltononeknee:

"Letmegazeontheformbelowme,WhilefromyonderetherblueLookhowthestarofeve,brightandtender,lingerso'erme,Tolovethybeautytoo!"

AndMargaritareplied:

"Oh,howstrange!Likeaspelldoestheeveningbindme!AndadeeplanguidcharmIfeelwithoutalarmWithitsmelodyenwindmeAndallmyheartsubdue."

At that moment, at that identical moment, the terrible thing happened...Carlottacroakedlikeatoad:

"Co-ack!"

TherewasconsternationonCarlotta'sfaceandconsternationonthefacesofall the audience. The two managers in their box could not suppress anexclamationofhorror.Everyone felt that the thingwasnotnatural, that therewas witchcraft behind it. That toad smelt of brimstone. Poor, wretched,despairing,crushedCarlotta!

Theuproarinthehousewasindescribable.IfthethinghadhappenedtoanyonebutCarlotta,shewouldhavebeenhooted.Buteverybodyknewhowperfectan instrument her voice was; and there was no display of anger, but only of

horror and dismay, the sort of dismaywhichmenwould have felt if they hadwitnessedthecatastrophethatbrokethearmsoftheVenusdeMilo...Andeventhentheywouldhaveseen...andunderstood...

But here that toad was incomprehensible! So much so that, after somesecondsspentinaskingherselfifshehadreallyheardthatnote,thatsound,thatinfernalnoiseissuefromherthroat,shetriedtopersuadeherselfthatitwasnotso,thatshewasthevictimofanillusion,anillusionoftheear,andnotofanactoftreacheryonthepartofhervoice....

Meanwhile, in Box Five, Moncharmin and Richard had turned very pale.Thisextraordinaryandinexplicableincidentfilledthemwithadreadwhichwasthemoremysteriousinasmuchasforsomelittlewhile,theyhadfallenwithinthedirectinfluenceoftheghost.Theyhadfelthisbreath.Moncharmin'shairstoodon end.Richardwiped the perspiration from his forehead.Yes, the ghostwasthere, around them, behind them, beside them; they felt his presence withoutseeinghim,theyheardhisbreath,close,close,closetothem!...Theyweresurethat there were three people in the box ... They trembled ... They thought ofrunning away ... They dared not ... They dared not make a movement orexchange a word that would have told the ghost that they knew that he wasthere!...Whatwasgoingtohappen?

Thishappened.

"Co-ack!" Their joint exclamation of horror was heard all over the house.THEY FELT THAT THEY WERE SMARTING UNDER THE GHOST'SATTACKS.Leaningovertheledgeoftheirbox,theystaredatCarlottaasthoughtheydidnotrecognizeher.Thatinfernalgirlmusthavegiventhesignalforsomecatastrophe.Ah,theywerewaitingforthecatastrophe!Theghosthadtoldthemitwouldcome!Thehousehadacurseupon it!The twomanagersgaspedandpanted under the weight of the catastrophe. Richard's stifled voice was heardcallingtoCarlotta:

"Well,goon!"

No,Carlotta did not go on ...Bravely, heroically, she started afresh on thefatallineattheendofwhichthetoadhadappeared.

An awful silence succeeded the uproar. Carlotta's voice alone once morefilledtheresoundinghouse:

"Ifeelwithoutalarm..."

Theaudiencealsofelt,butnotwithoutalarm...

"Ifeelwithoutalarm...Ifeelwithoutalarm—co-ack!Withitsmelodyenwindme—co-ack!Andallmyheartsub—co-ack!"

Thetoadalsohadstartedafresh!

The house broke into a wild tumult. The two managers collapsed in theirchairsanddarednoteven turn round; theyhadnot thestrength; theghostwaschucklingbehindtheirbacks!And,atlast,theydistinctlyheardhisvoiceintheirrightears,theimpossiblevoice,themouthlessvoice,saying:

"SHEISSINGINGTO-NIGHTTOBRINGTHECHANDELIERDOWN!"

Withone accord, they raised their eyes to the ceiling anduttered a terriblecry. The chandelier, the immense mass of the chandelier was slipping down,comingtowardthem,atthecallofthatfiendishvoice.Releasedfromitshook,itplungedfromtheceilingandcamesmashingintothemiddleofthestalls,amidathousandshoutsofterror.Awildrushforthedoorsfollowed.

Thepapersofthedaystatethattherewerenumberswoundedandonekilled.The chandelier had crashed downupon the headof thewretchedwomanwhohadcometo theOperafor thefirst timeinher life, theonewhomM.Richardhadappointed to succeedMme.Giry, theghost'sbox-keeper, inher functions!She died on the spot and, the next morning, a newspaper appeared with thisheading:

TWOHUNDREDKILOSONTHEHEADOFACONCIERGE

Thatwashersoleepitaph!

ChapterVIIITheMysteriousBrougham

Thattragiceveningwasbadforeverybody.Carlottafellill.AsforChristineDaae,shedisappearedafter theperformance.AfortnightelapsedduringwhichshewasseenneitherattheOperanoroutside.

Raoul,ofcourse,wasthefirsttobeastonishedattheprimadonna'sabsence.HewrotetoheratMme.Valerius'flatandreceivednoreply.Hisgriefincreasedand he ended by being seriously alarmed at never seeing her name on theprogram.FAUSTwasplayedwithouther.

Oneafternoonhewenttothemanagers'officetoaskthereasonofChristine'sdisappearance. He found them both looking extremely worried. Their ownfriends did not recognize them: theyhad lost all their gaiety and spirits.Theywereseencrossingthestagewithhangingheads,care-wornbrows,palecheeks,as though pursued by some abominable thought or a prey to some persistentsportoffate.

Thefallofthechandelierhadinvolvedtheminnolittleresponsibility;butitwasdifficulttomakethemspeakaboutit.Theinquesthadendedinaverdictofaccidental death, caused by the wear and tear of the chains by which thechandelierwashungfromtheceiling;butitwasthedutyofboththeoldandthenewmanagerstohavediscoveredthiswearandtearandtohaveremedieditintime.And I feelbound to say thatMM.RichardandMoncharminat this timeappearedsochanged,soabsent-minded,somysterious,soincomprehensiblethatmanyofthesubscribersthoughtthatsomeeventevenmorehorriblethanthefallofthechandeliermusthaveaffectedtheirstateofmind.

In their daily intercourse, they showed themselves very impatient, exceptwithMme.Giry,whohadbeenreinstatedinherfunctions.AndtheirreceptionoftheVicomtedeChagny,whenhecametoaskaboutChristine,wasanythingbutcordial.Theymerelytoldhimthatshewastakingaholiday.Heaskedhowlongtheholidaywasfor,andtheyrepliedcurtlythatitwasforanunlimitedperiod,asMlle.Daaehadrequestedleaveofabsenceforreasonsofhealth.

"Thensheisill!"hecried."Whatisthematterwithher?"

"Wedon'tknow."

"Didn'tyousendthedoctoroftheOperatoseeher?"

"No,shedidnotaskforhim;and,aswetrusther,wetookherword."

Raoul left thebuildingapreyto thegloomiest thoughts.Heresolved,comewhatmight, togoand inquireofMammaValerius.He remembered the strongphrasesinChristine'sletter,forbiddinghimtomakeanyattempttoseeher.ButwhathehadseenatPerros,whathehadheardbehind thedressing-roomdoor,hisconversationwithChristineattheedgeofthemoormadehimsuspectsomemachinationwhich,devilish thoughitmightbe,wasnonethelesshuman.Thegirl's highly strung imagination, her affectionate and credulous mind, theprimitive education which had surrounded her childhood with a circle oflegends, theconstantbroodingoverherdeadfatherand,aboveall, thestateofsublimeecstasy intowhichmusic threwherfromthemoment that thisartwasmademanifest toher incertainexceptionalconditions,as in thechurchyardatPerros;allthisseemedtohimtoconstituteamoralgroundonlytoofavorableforthemalevolentdesignsofsomemysteriousandunscrupulousperson.Ofwhomwas Christine Daae the victim? This was the very reasonable question whichRaoulputtohimselfashehurriedofftoMammaValerius.

Hetrembledasherangata littleflat in theRueNotre-Dame-des-Victoires.ThedoorwasopenedbythemaidwhomhehadseencomingoutofChristine'sdressing-roomone evening.He asked if he could speak toMme.Valerius.Hewastoldthatshewasillinbedandwasnotreceivingvisitors.

"Takeinmycard,please,"hesaid.

Themaidsoonreturnedandshowedhimintoasmallandscantilyfurnisheddrawing-room, inwhich portraits of ProfessorValerius and oldDaae hung onoppositewalls.

"Madame begsMonsieur leVicomte to excuse her," said the servant. "Shecanonlyseehiminherbedroom,becauseshecannolongerstandonherpoorlegs."

Fiveminutes later,Raoulwasushered intoan ill-lit roomwhereheatoncerecognizedthegood,kindfaceofChristine'sbenefactress in thesemi-darknessof an alcove. Mamma Valerius' hair was now quite white, but her eyes hadgrownnoolder;never,on thecontrary,had theirexpressionbeensobright,sopure,sochild-like.

"M. deChagny!" she cried gaily, putting out both her hands to her visitor."Ah,it'sHeaventhatsendsyouhere!...WecantalkofHER."

Thislastsentencesoundedverygloomilyintheyoungman'sears.Heatonceasked:

"Madame...whereisChristine?"

Andtheoldladyrepliedcalmly:

"Sheiswithhergoodgenius!"

"Whatgoodgenius?"exclaimedpoorRaoul.

"Why,theAngelofMusic!"

Theviscountdropped intoachair.Really?Christinewaswith theAngelofMusic?And there layMammaValerius inbed, smiling tohimandputtingherfingertoherlips,towarnhimtobesilent!Andsheadded:

"Youmustnottellanybody!"

"Youcanrelyonme,"saidRaoul.

Hehardly knewwhat hewas saying, for his ideas aboutChristine, alreadygreatlyconfused,werebecomingmoreandmoreentangled;anditseemedasifeverything was beginning to turn around him, around the room, around thatextraordinarygoodladywiththewhitehairandforget-me-noteyes.

"Iknow! Iknow I can!" she said,with ahappy laugh. "Butwhydon't youcome nearme, as you used to dowhen youwere a little boy?Giveme yourhands,aswhenyoubroughtmethestoryoflittleLotte,whichDaddyDaaehadtoldyou.Iamveryfondofyou,M.Raoul,youknow.AndsoisChristinetoo!"

"She is fond of me!" sighed the young man. He found a difficulty incollecting his thoughts and bringing them to bear onMammaValerius' "goodgenius," on the Angel of Music of whom Christine had spoken to him sostrangely,on thedeath'sheadwhichhehadseen ina sortofnightmareon thehighaltaratPerrosandalsoon theOperaghost,whose famehadcome tohisearsoneeveningwhenhewasstandingbehind thescenes,withinhearingofagroup of scene-shifters who were repeating the ghastly description which thehangedman,JosephBuquet,hadgivenoftheghostbeforehismysteriousdeath.

Heaskedinalowvoice:"WhatmakesyouthinkthatChristineisfondofme,madame?"

"Sheusedtospeakofyoueveryday."

"Really?...Andwhatdidshetellyou?"

"Shetoldmethatyouhadmadeheraproposal!"

Andthegoodoldladybeganlaughingwholeheartedly.Raoulsprangfromhischair,flushingtothetemples,sufferingagonies.

"What'sthis?Whereareyougoing?Sitdownagainatonce,willyou?...DoyouthinkIwill letyougolikethat?...Ifyou'reangrywithmeforlaughing,Ibeg your pardon... After all, what has happened isn't your fault... Didn't youknow?...DidyouthinkthatChristinewasfree?..."

"IsChristineengagedtobemarried?"thewretchedRaoulasked,inachokingvoice.

"Whyno!Whyno!...YouknowaswellasIdothatChristinecouldn'tmarry,evenifshewantedto!"

"ButIdon'tknowanythingaboutit!...Andwhycan'tChristinemarry?"

"BecauseoftheAngelofMusic,ofcourse!..."

"Idon'tfollow..."

"Yes,heforbidsherto!..."

"Heforbidsher!...TheAngelofMusicforbidshertomarry!"

"Oh,heforbidsher...withoutforbiddingher.It'slikethis:hetellsherthat,ifshe got married, she would never hear him again. That's all! ... And that hewouldgoawayforever!...So,youunderstand,shecan'tlettheAngelofMusicgo.It'squitenatural."

"Yes,yes,"echoedRaoulsubmissively,"it'squitenatural."

"Besides, I thought Christine had told you all that, when she met you at

Perros,whereshewentwithhergoodgenius."

"Oh,shewenttoPerroswithhergoodgenius,didshe?"

"Thatistosay,hearrangedtomeetherdownthere,inPerroschurchyard,atDaae's grave. He promised to play her The Resurrection of Lazarus on herfather'sviolin!"

Raoul deChagny rose and,with a very authoritative air, pronounced theseperemptorywords:

"Madame,youwillhavethegoodnesstotellmewherethatgeniuslives."

Theold ladydidnotseemsurprisedat this indiscreetcommand.Sheraisedhereyesandsaid:

"InHeaven!"

Suchsimplicitybaffledhim.HedidnotknowwhattosayinthepresenceofthiscandidandperfectfaithinageniuswhocamedownnightlyfromHeaventohauntthedressing-roomsattheOpera.

He now realized the possible state ofmind of a girl brought up between asuperstitiousfiddlerandavisionaryoldladyandheshudderedwhenhethoughtoftheconsequencesofitall.

"IsChristinestillagoodgirl?"heaskedsuddenly,inspiteofhimself.

"Iswearit,asIhopetobesaved!"exclaimedtheoldwoman,who,thistime,seemedtobeincensed."And,ifyoudoubtit,sir,Idon'tknowwhatyouareherefor!"

Raoultoreathisgloves.

"Howlonghassheknownthis'genius?'"

"Aboutthreemonths...Yes,it'squitethreemonthssincehebegantogiveherlessons."

Theviscountthrewuphisarmswithagestureofdespair.

"Thegeniusgivesherlessons!...Andwhere,pray?"

"Nowthatshehasgoneawaywithhim,Ican'tsay;but,uptoafortnightago,itwasinChristine'sdressing-room.Itwouldbeimpossibleinthislittleflat.Thewhole housewould hear them.Whereas, at theOpera, at eight o'clock in themorning,thereisnooneabout,doyousee!"

"Yes,Isee!Isee!"criedtheviscount.

And he hurriedly took leave of Mme. Valerius, who asked herself if theyoungnoblemanwasnotalittleoffhishead.

Hewalkedhometohisbrother'shouseinapitifulstate.Hecouldhavestruckhimself,bangedhisheadagainstthewalls!Tothinkthathehadbelievedinherinnocence,inherpurity!TheAngelofMusic!Heknewhimnow!Hesawhim!Itwasbeyondadoubtsomeunspeakabletenor,agood-lookingjackanapes,whomouthedandsimperedashesang!Hethoughthimselfasabsurdandaswretchedascouldbe.Oh,whatamiserable,little,insignificant,sillyyoungmanwasM.leVicomte de Chagny! thought Raoul, furiously. And she, what a bold anddamnableslycreature!

HisbrotherwaswaitingforhimandRaoulfellintohisarms,likeachild.Thecountconsoledhim,withoutaskingforexplanations;andRaoulwouldcertainlyhave long hesitated before telling him the story of the Angel of Music. Hisbrother suggested takinghimout todinner.Overcomeashewaswithdespair,Raoulwouldprobablyhaverefusedanyinvitationthatevening,ifthecounthadnot,asaninducement,toldhimthattheladyofhisthoughtshadbeenseen,thenight before, in company of the other sex in the Bois. At first, the viscountrefusedtobelieve;buthereceivedsuchexactdetails thatheceasedprotesting.Shehadbeenseen,itappeared,drivinginabrougham,withthewindowdown.Sheseemedtobeslowlytakingintheicynightair.Therewasagloriousmoonshining. Shewas recognized beyond a doubt.As for her companion, only hisshadowyoutlinewasdistinguished leaningback in thedark.The carriagewasgoingatawalkingpaceinalonelydrivebehindthegrandstandatLongchamp.

Raoul dressed in frantic haste, prepared to forget his distress by flinginghimself,aspeoplesay, into"thevortexofpleasure."Alas,hewasaverysorryguestand,leavinghisbrotherearly,foundhimself,byteno'clockintheevening,inacab,behindtheLongchamprace-course.

It was bitterly cold. The road seemed deserted and very bright under themoonlight.He told thedriver towait for himpatiently at the corner of a nearturningand,hidinghimselfaswellashecould,stoodstampinghisfeettokeepwarm.He had been indulging in this healthy exercise for half an hour or so,whenacarriageturnedthecorneroftheroadandcamequietlyinhisdirection,atawalkingpace.

As it approached, he saw that a woman was leaning her head from thewindow.And,suddenly,themoonshedapalegleamoverherfeatures.

"Christine!"

Thesacrednameofhislovehadsprungfromhisheartandhislips.Hecouldnotkeepitback...Hewouldhavegivenanythingtowithdrawit,forthatname,proclaimed in the stillness of the night, had acted as though it were thepreconcertedsignal fora furious rushon thepartof thewhole turn-out,whichdashed past him before he could put into execution his plan of leaping at thehorses' heads. The carriage window had been closed and the girl's face haddisappeared. And the brougham, behind which he was now running, was nomorethanablackspotonthewhiteroad.

Hecalledoutagain:"Christine!"

Noreply.Andhestoppedinthemidstofthesilence.

Witha lack-lustereye,hestareddown thatcold,desolate roadand into thepale,deadnight.Nothingwascolderthanhisheart,nothinghalfsodead:hehadlovedanangelandnowhedespisedawoman!

Raoul,how that little fairyof theNorthhas trifledwithyou!Was it really,wasitreallynecessarytohavesofreshandyoungaface,aforeheadsoshyandalwaysreadytocover itselfwith thepinkblushofmodesty inorder topass inthe lonely night, in a carriage and pair, accompanied by a mysterious lover?Surelythereshouldbesomelimittohypocrisyandlying!...

Shehadpassedwithoutansweringhiscry...Andhewasthinkingofdying;andhewastwentyyearsold!...

Hisvaletfoundhiminthemorningsittingonhisbed.Hehadnotundressedandtheservantfeared,atthesightofhisface,thatsomedisasterhadoccurred.

Raoulsnatchedhislettersfromtheman'shands.HehadrecognizedChristine'spaperandhand-writing.Shesaid:

DEAR:

Goto themaskedballat theOperaonthenightafter to-morrow.At twelveo'clock, be in the little roombehind the chimney-placeof thebig crush-room.StandnearthedoorthatleadstotheRotunda.Don'tmentionthisappointmenttoanyoneonearth.Wearawhitedominoandbecarefullymasked.Asyou loveme,donotletyourselfberecognized.CHRISTINE.

ChapterIXAttheMaskedBall

Theenvelopewascoveredwithmudandunstamped.Itborethewords"TobehandedtoM.leVicomteRaouldeChagny,"withtheaddressinpencil.Itmusthave been flung out in the hope that a passer-bywould pick up the note anddeliver it, which was what happened. The note had been picked up on thepavementofthePlacedel'Opera.

Raoulreaditoveragainwithfeveredeyes.Nomorewasneededtorevivehishope.Thesomberpicturewhichhehad foramoment imaginedofaChristineforgetting her duty to herself made way for his original conception of anunfortunate, innocent child, the victim of imprudence and exaggeratedsensibility.Towhatextent,atthistime,wasshereallyavictim?Whoseprisonerwas she? Intowhat whirlpool had she been dragged?He asked himself thesequestionswithacruelanguish;buteventhispainseemedendurablebesidethefrenzy into which he was thrown at the thought of a lying and deceitfulChristine. What had happened? What influence had she undergone? Whatmonsterhadcarriedheroffandbywhatmeans?...

Bywhatmeansindeedbutthatofmusic?HeknewChristine'sstory.Afterherfather'sdeath,sheacquiredadistasteofeverythinginlife,includingherart.ShewentthroughtheCONSERVATOIRElikeapoorsoullesssinging-machine.And,suddenly,sheawokeasthoughthroughtheinterventionofagod.TheAngelofMusicappeareduponthescene!ShesangMargaritainFAUSTandtriumphed!

...

TheAngelofMusic!...ForthreemonthstheAngelofMusichadbeengivingChristinelessons...Ah,hewasapunctualsinging-master! ...AndnowhewastakingherfordrivesintheBois!...

Raoul's fingers clutched at his flesh, above his jealous heart. In hisinexperience,henowaskedhimselfwithterrorwhatgamethegirlwasplaying?Up towhat point could an opera-singermake a fool of a good-natured youngman,quitenewtolove?Omisery!...

ThusdidRaoul's thoughts fly fromoneextreme to theother.Heno longerknewwhethertopityChristineortocurseher;andhepitiedandcursedherturnandturnabout.Atallevents,heboughtawhitedomino.

Thehourof theappointmentcameat last.Withhisfaceinamasktrimmedwith long, thick lace, looking like a pierrot in his white wrap, the viscountthoughthimselfveryridiculous.MenoftheworlddonotgototheOperaballinfancy-dress! It was absurd. One thought, however, consoled the viscount: hewouldcertainlyneverberecognized!

This ballwas an exceptional affair, given some time before Shrovetide, inhonoroftheanniversaryofthebirthofafamousdraftsman;anditwasexpectedto be much gayer, noisier, more Bohemian than the ordinary masked ball.Numbers of artists had arranged to go, accompanied by a whole cohort ofmodelsandpupils,who,bymidnight,begantocreateatremendousdin.Raoulclimbedthegrandstaircaseatfiveminutestotwelve,didnotlingertolookatthemotley dresses displayed all the way up the marble steps, one of the richestsettingsintheworld,allowednofacetiousmasktodrawhimintoawarofwits,repliedtonojestsandshookofftheboldfamiliarityofanumberofcoupleswhohadalreadybecomea trifle toogay.Crossingthebigcrush-roomandescapingfromamadwhirlofdancers inwhichhewascaught foramoment,heat lastenteredtheroommentionedinChristine's letter.Hefounditcrammed;forthissmall space was the point where all those who were going to supper in theRotunda crossed thosewhowere returning from taking a glass of champagne.Thefun,here,waxedfastandfurious.

Raoul leanedagainstadoor-postandwaited.Hedidnotwait long.Ablackdominopassedandgaveaquicksqueezetothetipsofhisfingers.Heunderstood

thatitwassheandfollowedher:

"Isthatyou,Christine?"heasked,betweenhisteeth.

Theblackdominoturnedroundpromptlyandraisedherfingertoherlips,nodoubttowarnhimnottomentionhernameagain.Raoulcontinuedtofollowherinsilence.

He was afraid of losing her, after meeting her again in such strangecircumstances.Hisgrudgeagainstherwasgone.Henolongerdoubtedthatshehad "nothing to reproach herselfwith," however peculiar and inexplicable herconductmightseem.Hewasreadytomakeanydisplayofclemency,forgivenessor cowardice. He was in love. And, no doubt, he would soon receive a verynaturalexplanationofhercuriousabsence.

Theblackdominoturnedbackfromtimetotimetoseeifthewhitedominowasstillfollowing.

AsRaoul oncemore passed through the great crush-room, this time in thewakeofhisguide,hecouldnothelpnoticingagroupcrowdingroundapersonwhosedisguise,eccentricairandgruesomeappearancewerecausingasensation.Itwasamandressedallinscarlet,withahugehatandfeathersonthetopofawonderfuldeath'shead.Fromhisshouldershunganimmensered-velvetcloak,which trailed along the floor like a king's train; and on this cloak wasembroidered, in gold letters,which every one read and repeated aloud, "Don'ttouchme!IamRedDeathstalkingabroad!"

Thenone,greatlydaring,didtrytotouchhim...butaskeletonhandshotoutofacrimsonsleeveandviolentlyseizedtherashone'swrist;andhe,feelingtheclutchoftheknucklebones,thefuriousgraspofDeath,utteredacryofpainandterror.WhenRedDeathreleasedhimat last,heranawaylikeaverymadman,pursuedbythejeersofthebystanders.

ItwasatthismomentthatRaoulpassedinfrontofthefunerealmasquerader,whohadjusthappenedtoturninhisdirection.Andhenearlyexclaimed:

"Thedeath'sheadofPerros-Guirec!"

Hehad recognizedhim! ...Hewanted todart forward, forgettingChristine;but the black domino, who also seemed a prey to some strange excitement,

caughthimbythearmanddraggedhimfromthecrush-room,farfromthemadcrowdthroughwhichRedDeathwasstalking...

The black domino kept on turning back and, apparently, on two occasionssawsomethingthatstartledher,forshehurriedherpaceandRaoul'sasthoughtheywerebeingpursued.

Theywentuptwofloors.Here,thestairsandcorridorswerealmostdeserted.Theblackdominoopenedthedoorofaprivateboxandbeckonedtothewhitedominotofollowher.ThenChristine,whomherecognizedbythesoundofhervoice,closedthedoorbehindthemandwarnedhim,inawhisper,toremainatthebackoftheboxandonnoaccounttoshowhimself.Raoultookoffhismask.Christinekeptherson.And,whenRaoulwasabouttoaskhertoremoveit,hewassurprisedtoseeherputhereartothepartitionandlisteneagerlyforasoundoutside.Thensheopenedthedoorajar,lookedoutintothecorridorand,inalowvoice,said:

"He must have gone up higher." Suddenly she exclaimed: "He is comingdownagain!"

Shetriedtoclosethedoor,butRaoulpreventedher;forhehadseen,onthetopstepofthestaircasethatledtothefloorabove,AREDFOOT,followedbyanother...andslowly,majestically,thewholescarletdressofRedDeathmethiseyes.Andheoncemoresawthedeath'sheadofPerros-Guirec.

"It'she!"heexclaimed."Thistime,heshallnotescapeme!..."

ButChristian{sic}hadslammedthedooratthemomentwhenRaoulwasonthepointofrushingout.Hetriedtopushheraside.

"Whomdoyoumeanby'he'?"sheasked,inachangedvoice."Whoshallnotescapeyou?"

Raoul tried toovercome thegirl's resistanceby force, but she repelledhimwith a strengthwhich hewould not have suspected in her.He understood, orthoughtheunderstood,andatoncelosthistemper.

"Who?" he repeated angrily. "Why, he, the man who hides behind thathideousmaskofdeath! ...Theevilgeniusof thechurchyardatPerros! ...RedDeath!...Inaword,madam,yourfriend...yourAngelofMusic!...ButIshall

snatchoffhismask,asIshallsnatchoffmyown;and,thistime,weshalllookeachotherintheface,heandI,withnoveilandnoliesbetweenus;andIshallknowwhomyouloveandwholovesyou!"

Heburstintoamadlaugh,whileChristinegaveadisconsolatemoanbehindhervelvetmask.Withatragicgesture,sheflungouthertwoarms,whichfixedabarrierofwhitefleshagainstthedoor.

"Inthenameofourlove,Raoul,youshallnotpass!..."

Hestopped.Whathadshesaid?...Inthenameoftheirlove?...Neverbeforehadsheconfessedthatshelovedhim.Andyetshehadhadopportunitiesenough...Pooh,heronlyobjectwas togaina fewseconds! ...Shewished togive theRedDeathtimetoescape...And,inaccentsofchildishhatred,hesaid:

"Youlie,madam,foryoudonotlovemeandyouhaveneverlovedme!WhatapoorfellowImustbetoletyoumockandfloutmeasyouhavedone!Whydidyougivemeeveryreasonforhope,atPerros ... forhonesthope,madam,forIamanhonestmanandIbelievedyoutobeanhonestwoman,whenyouronlyintentionwastodeceiveme!Alas,youhavedeceivedusall!Youhavetakenashameful advantage of the candid affection of your benefactress herself, whocontinues to believe in your sinceritywhile you go about theOpera ballwithRedDeath!...Idespiseyou!..."

Andheburstintotears.Sheallowedhimtoinsulther.Shethoughtofbutonething,tokeephimfromleavingthebox.

"Youwillbegmypardon,oneday,forallthoseuglywords,Raoul,andwhenyoudoIshallforgiveyou!"

Heshookhishead. "No,no,youhavedrivenmemad!When I think that Ihadonlyoneobjectinlife:togivemynametoanoperawench!"

"Raoul!...Howcanyou?"

"Ishalldieofshame!"

"No,dear,live!"saidChristine'sgraveandchangedvoice."And...good-by.Good-by,Raoul..."

The boy stepped forward, staggering as he went. He risked one moresarcasm:

"Oh,youmustletmecomeandapplaudyoufromtimetotime!"

"Ishallneversingagain,Raoul!..."

"Really?"hereplied,stillmoresatirically."Soheistakingyouoffthestage:Icongratulateyou!...ButweshallmeetintheBois,oneoftheseevenings!"

"NotintheBoisnoranywhere,Raoul:youshallnotseemeagain..."

"Mayoneaskatleasttowhatdarknessyouarereturning?...Forwhathellareyouleaving,mysteriouslady...orforwhatparadise?"

"Icame to tellyou,dear,but I can't tellyounow ...youwouldnotbelieveme!Youhavelostfaithinme,Raoul;itisfinished!"

Shespokeinsuchadespairingvoicethattheladbegantofeelremorseforhiscruelty.

"Butlookhere!"hecried."Can'tyoutellmewhatallthismeans!...Youarefree,thereisnoonetointerferewithyou...YougoaboutParis...Youputonadominotocometotheball...Whydoyounotgohome?...Whathaveyoubeendoing thispast fortnight? ...What is this taleabout theAngelofMusic,whichyou have been telling Mamma Valerius? Some one may have taken you in,playeduponyour innocence. Iwasawitnessof itmyself,atPerros ...butyouknowwhattobelievenow!Youseemtomequitesensible,Christine.Youknowwhatyouaredoing...AndmeanwhileMammaValeriuslieswaitingforyouathomeandappealingtoyour 'goodgenius!' ...Explainyourself,Christine,Ibegofyou!AnyonemighthavebeendeceivedasIwas.Whatisthisfarce?"

Christinesimplytookoffhermaskandsaid:"Dear,itisatragedy!"

Raoulnowsawherfaceandcouldnotrestrainanexclamationofsurpriseandterror.Thefreshcomplexionofformerdayswasgone.Amortalpallorcoveredthosefeatures,whichhehadknownsocharmingandsogentle,andsorrowhadfurrowedthemwithpitilesslinesandtraceddarkandunspeakablysadshadowsunderhereyes.

"Mydearest!Mydearest!"hemoaned,holdingouthisarms."Youpromisedtoforgiveme..."

"Perhaps!...Someday,perhaps!"shesaid,resuminghermask;andshewentaway,forbiddinghim,withagesture,tofollowher.

He tried to disobey her; but she turned round and repeated her gesture offarewellwithsuchauthoritythathedarednotmoveastep.

Hewatchedhertillshewasoutofsight.Thenhealsowentdownamongthecrowd, hardly knowing what he was doing, with throbbing temples and anachingheart;and,ashecrossedthedancing-floor,heaskedifanybodyhadseenRedDeath.Yes,everyonehadseenRedDeath;butRaoulcouldnotfindhim;and, at two o'clock in the morning, he turned down the passage, behind thescenes,thatledtoChristineDaae'sdressing-room.

Hisfootstepstookhimtothatroomwherehehadfirstknownsuffering.Hetappedatthedoor.Therewasnoanswer.Heentered,ashehadenteredwhenhelookedeverywhere for "theman'svoice."The roomwasempty.Agas-jetwasburning, turned down low. He saw some writing-paper on a little desk. HethoughtofwritingtoChristine,butheheardsteps in thepassage.Hehadonlytimetohideintheinnerroom,whichwasseparatedfromthedressing-roombyacurtain.

Christineentered,tookoffhermaskwithawearymovementandflungitonthetable.Shesighedandletherprettyheadfall intohertwohands.Whatwasshethinkingof?OfRaoul?No,forRaoulheardhermurmur:"PoorErik!"

At first, he thoughthemustbemistaken.Tobeginwith,hewaspersuadedthat, if any one was to be pitied, it was he, Raoul. It would have been quitenatural if shehad said, "PoorRaoul," afterwhat hadhappenedbetween them.But,shakingherhead,sherepeated:"PoorErik!"

WhathadthisEriktodowithChristine'ssighsandwhywasshepityingErikwhenRaoulwassounhappy?

Christinebegantowrite,deliberately,calmlyandsoplacidlythatRaoul,whowas still trembling from the effects of the tragedy that separated them, waspainfullyimpressed.

"Whatcoolness!"hesaidtohimself.

Shewrote on, filling two, three, four sheets.Suddenly, she raisedher headand hid the sheets in her bodice ... She seemed to be listening ... Raoul alsolistened ... Whence came that strange sound, that distant rhythm? ... A faintsinging seemed to issue from the walls ... yes, it was as though the wallsthemselveswere singing! ... The song became plainer ... thewordswere nowdistinguishable...heheardavoice,averybeautiful,verysoft,verycaptivatingvoice ... but, for all its softness, it remained amale voice ... The voice camenearer andnearer ... it came through thewall ... it approached ... andnow thevoicewas INTHEROOM, in frontofChristine.Christine roseandaddressedthevoice,asthoughspeakingtosomeone:

"HereIam,Erik,"shesaid."Iamready.Butyouarelate."

Raoul, peeping from behind the curtain, could not believe his eyes, whichshowedhimnothing.Christine'sfacelitup.Asmileofhappinessappeareduponher bloodless lips, a smile like that of sick peoplewhen they receive the firsthopeofrecovery.

Thevoicewithoutabodywentonsinging;andcertainlyRaoulhadneverinhis life heard anythingmore absolutely and heroically sweet,more gloriouslyinsidious,moredelicate,morepowerful, in short,more irresistibly triumphant.HelistenedtoitinafeverandhenowbegantounderstandhowChristineDaaewasabletoappearoneevening,beforethestupefiedaudience,withaccentsofabeautyhithertounknown,ofasuperhumanexaltation,whiledoubtlessstillundertheinfluenceofthemysteriousandinvisiblemaster.

The voice was singing the Wedding-night Song from Romeo and Juliet.RaoulsawChristinestretchoutherarmstothevoiceasshehaddone,inPerroschurchyard, to the invisible violin playing The Resurrection of Lazarus. Andnothingcoulddescribethepassionwithwhichthevoicesang:

"Fatelinkstheetomeforeverandaday!"

The strains went through Raoul's heart. Struggling against the charm thatseemed to deprive him of all hiswill and all his energy and of almost all hislucidity at themoment when he needed themmost, he succeeded in drawingback the curtain that hid him and he walked to where Christine stood. Sheherself was moving to the back of the room, the whole wall of which was

occupiedbyagreatmirrorthatreflectedherimage,butnothis,forhewasjustbehindherandentirelycoveredbyher.

"Fatelinkstheetomeforeverandaday!"

Christinewalked towardher image in theglassandthe imagecametowardher. The two Christines—the real one and the reflection—ended by touching;andRaoulputouthisarms toclasp the two inoneembrace.But,bya sortofdazzlingmiraclethatsenthimstaggering,Raoulwassuddenlyflungback,whilean icy blast swept over his face; he saw, not two, but four, eight, twentyChristines spinning round him, laughing at him and fleeing so swiftly that hecouldnot touchoneof them.At last, everything stood still again; andhe sawhimselfintheglass.ButChristinehaddisappeared.

Herushedup to theglass.Hestruckat thewalls.Nobody!Andmeanwhiletheroomstillechoedwithadistantpassionatesinging:

"Fatelinkstheetomeforeverandaday!"

Whichway,whichwayhadChristinegone?...Whichwaywouldshereturn?...

Would she return? Alas, had she not declared to him that everything wasfinished?Andwasthevoicenotrepeating:

"Fatelinkstheetomeforeverandaday!"

Tome?Towhom?

Then, worn out, beaten, empty-brained, he sat down on the chair whichChristine had just left. Like her, he let his head fall into his hands.When heraisedit,thetearswerestreamingdownhisyoungcheeks,real,heavytearslikethosewhichjealouschildrenshed,tearsthatweptforasorrowwhichwasinnoway fanciful, but which is common to all the lovers on earth and which heexpressedaloud:

"WhoisthisErik?"hesaid.

ChapterXForgettheNameoftheMan'sVoice

ThedayafterChristinehadvanishedbeforehiseyesinasortofdazzlementthatstillmadehimdoubttheevidenceofhissenses,M.leVicomtedeChagnycalled to inquire at Mamma Valerius'. He came upon a charming picture.Christineherselfwasseatedbythebedsideof theoldlady,whowassittingupagainstthepillows,knitting.Thepinkandwhitehadreturnedtotheyounggirl'scheeks. The dark rings round her eyes had disappeared. Raoul no longerrecognizedthetragicfaceofthedaybefore.Iftheveilofmelancholyoverthoseadorablefeatureshadnotstillappearedtotheyoungmanasthelasttraceoftheweirddramainwhosetoilsthatmysteriouschildwasstruggling,hecouldhavebelievedthatChristinewasnotitsheroineatall.

She rose, without showing any emotion, and offered him her hand. ButRaoul's stupefaction was so great that he stood there dumfounded, without agesture,withoutaword.

"Well, M. de Chagny," exclaimed Mamma Valerius, "don't you know ourChristine?Hergoodgeniushassentherbacktous!"

"Mamma!" the girl broke in promptly, while a deep blush mantled to hereyes."Ithought,mamma,thattherewastobenomorequestionofthat!...YouknowthereisnosuchthingastheAngelofMusic!"

"But,child,hegaveyoulessonsforthreemonths!"

"Mamma, I have promised to explain everything to you one of these days;andIhopetodosobutyouhavepromisedme,untilthatday,tobesilentandtoaskmenomorequestionswhatever!"

"Providedthatyoupromisednevertoleavemeagain!Buthaveyoupromisedthat,Christine?"

"Mamma,allthiscannotinterestM.deChagny."

"On the contrary,mademoiselle," said the youngman, in a voicewhich hetriedtomakefirmandbrave,butwhichstill trembled,"anythingthatconcernsyouinterestsmetoanextentwhichperhapsyouwillonedayunderstand.Ido

notdenythatmysurpriseequalsmypleasureatfindingyouwithyouradoptedmotherandthat,afterwhathappenedbetweenusyesterday,afterwhatyousaidandwhatIwasabletoguess,Ihardlyexpectedtoseeyouheresosoon.Ishouldbe the first to delight at your return, if youwere not so bent on preserving asecrecythatmaybefataltoyou...andIhavebeenyourfriendtoolongnottobealarmed, with Mme. Valerius, at a disastrous adventure which will remaindangerousso longaswehavenotunraveled its threadsandofwhichyouwillcertainlyendbybeingthevictim,Christine."

Atthesewords,MammaValeriustossedaboutinherbed.

"Whatdoesthismean?"shecried."IsChristineindanger?"

"Yes, madame," said Raoul courageously, notwithstanding the signs whichChristinemadetohim.

"MyGod!"exclaimedthegood,simpleoldwoman,gaspingforbreath."Youmusttellmeeverything,Christine!Whydidyoutrytoreassureme?Andwhatdangerisit,M.deChagny?"

"Animpostorisabusinghergoodfaith."

"IstheAngelofMusicanimpostor?"

"ShetoldyouherselfthatthereisnoAngelofMusic."

"Butthenwhatisit,inHeaven'sname?Youwillbethedeathofme!"

"There is a terrible mystery around us, madame, around you, aroundChristine, a mystery much more to be feared than any number of ghosts orgenii!"

MammaValeriusturnedaterrifiedfacetoChristine,whohadalreadyruntoheradoptedmotherandwasholdingherinherarms.

"Don'tbelievehim,mummy,don'tbelievehim,"sherepeated.

"Thentellmethatyouwillneverleavemeagain,"imploredthewidow.

ChristinewassilentandRaoulresumed.

"That is what you must promise, Christine. It is the only thing that canreassureyourmotherandme.Wewillundertakenottoaskyouasinglequestionaboutthepast,ifyoupromiseustoremainunderourprotectioninfuture."

"ThatisanundertakingwhichIhavenotaskedofyouandapromisewhichIrefuse tomakeyou!" said theyounggirlhaughtily. "I ammistressofmyownactions,M.deChagny:youhavenorighttocontrolthem,andIwillbegyoutodesisthenceforth.AstowhatIhavedoneduringthelastfortnight,thereisonlyone man in the world who has the right to demand an account of me: myhusband!Well,IhavenohusbandandInevermeantomarry!"

ShethrewoutherhandstoemphasizeherwordsandRaoulturnedpale,notonlybecauseofthewordswhichhehadheard,butbecausehehadcaughtsightofaplaingoldringonChristine'sfinger.

"Youhavenohusbandandyetyouwearawedding-ring."

Hetriedtoseizeherhand,butsheswiftlydrewitback.

"That'sapresent!"shesaid,blushingoncemoreandvainlystriving tohideherembarrassment.

"Christine!Asyouhavenohusband, thatringcanonlyhavebeengivenbyonewhohopestomakeyouhiswife!Whydeceiveusfurther?Whytorturemestillmore?Thatringisapromise;andthatpromisehasbeenaccepted!"

"That'swhatIsaid!"exclaimedtheoldlady.

"Andwhatdidsheanswer,madame?"

"What I chose," said Christine, driven to exasperation. "Don't you think,monsieur, that this cross-examination has lasted long enough?As far as I amconcerned..."

Raoulwasafraidtoletherfinishherspeech.Heinterruptedher:

"IbegyourpardonforspeakingasIdid,mademoiselle.Youknowthegoodintentionsthatmakememeddle,justnow,inmatterswhich,younodoubtthink,havenothingtodowithme.ButallowmetotellyouwhatIhaveseen—andIhaveseenmorethanyoususpect,Christine—orwhatIthoughtIsaw,for,totell

youthetruth,Ihavesometimesbeeninclinedtodoubttheevidenceofmyeyes."

"Well,whatdidyousee,sir,orthinkyousaw?"

"IsawyourecstasyATTHESOUNDOFTHEVOICE,Christine:thevoicethat came from thewall or thenext room toyours ... yes,YOURECSTASY!And that is what makes me alarmed on your behalf. You are under a verydangerousspell.Andyetitseemsthatyouareawareoftheimposture,becauseyou say to-day THAT THERE IS NO ANGEL OF MUSIC! In that case,Christine,whydidyoufollowhimthattime?Whydidyoustandup,withradiantfeatures,asthoughyouwerereallyhearingangels?...Ah,itisaverydangerousvoice,Christine,forImyself,whenIheardit,wassomuchfascinatedbyitthatyou vanished before my eyes without my seeing which way you passed!Christine,Christine,inthenameofHeaven,inthenameofyourfatherwhoisinHeavennowandwholovedyousodearlyandwholovedmetoo,Christine,tellus,tellyourbenefactressandme,towhomdoesthatvoicebelong?Ifyoudo,wewill saveyou inspiteofyourself.Come,Christine, thenameof theman!Thenameofthemanwhohadtheaudacitytoputaringonyourfinger!"

"M.deChagny,"thegirldeclaredcoldly,"youshallneverknow!"

Thereupon, seeing the hostility with which her ward had addressed theviscount,MammaValeriussuddenlytookChristine'spart.

"And, if she does love that man,Monsieur le Vicomte, even then it is nobusinessofyours!"

"Alas,madame,"Raoulhumbly replied,unable to restrainhis tears, "alas, IbelievethatChristinereallydoeslovehim!...Butitisnotonlythatwhichdrivesme to despair; for what I am not certain of, madame, is that the man whomChristinelovesisworthyofherlove!"

"Itisformetobethejudgeofthat,monsieur!"saidChristine,lookingRaoulangrilyintheface.

"Whenaman,"continuedRaoul,"adoptssuchromanticmethodstoenticeayounggirl'saffections..."

"Themanmustbeeitheravillain,orthegirlafool:isthatit?"

"Christine!"

"Raoul,whydoyoucondemnamanwhomyouhaveneverseen,whomnooneknowsandaboutwhomyouyourselfknownothing?"

"Yes,Christine ...Yes ... Iat leastknowthename thatyou thought tokeepfrommeforever...ThenameofyourAngelofMusic,mademoiselle,isErik!"

Christine at once betrayed herself. She turned as white as a sheet andstammered:"Whotoldyou?"

"Youyourself!"

"Howdoyoumean?"

"Bypityinghimtheothernight,thenightofthemaskedball.Whenyouwenttoyourdressing-room,didyounotsay,'PoorErik?'Well,Christine,therewasapoorRaoulwhooverheardyou."

"This is the second time that you have listened behind the door, M. deChagny!"

"Iwasnotbehindthedoor...Iwasinthedressing-room,intheinnerroom,mademoiselle."

"Oh, unhappy man!" moaned the girl, showing every sign of unspeakableterror."Unhappyman!Doyouwanttobekilled?"

"Perhaps."

Raoulutteredthis"perhaps"withsomuchloveanddespairinhisvoicethatChristinecouldnotkeepbackasob.Shetookhishandsandlookedathimwithallthepureaffectionofwhichshewascapable:

"Raoul,"shesaid,"forgetTHEMAN'SVOICEanddonotevenrememberitsname...YoumustnevertrytofathomthemysteryofTHEMAN'SVOICE."

"Isthemysterysoveryterrible?"

"There is nomore awfulmystery on this earth. Swear tome that youwill

make no attempt to find out," she insisted. "Swear tome that youwill nevercometomydressing-room,unlessIsendforyou."

"Thenyoupromisetosendformesometimes,Christine?"

"Ipromise."

"When?"

"To-morrow."

"ThenIsweartodoasyouask."

Hekissedherhandsandwentaway,cursingErikandresolvingtobepatient.

ChapterXIAbovetheTrap-Doors

Thenextday,hesawherat theOpera.Shewasstillwearingtheplaingoldring.Shewasgentleandkindtohim.Shetalkedtohimof theplanswhichhewasforming,ofhisfuture,ofhiscareer.

He toldher that thedateof thePolar expeditionhadbeenput forward andthathewouldleaveFranceinthreeweeks,oramonthatlatest.Shesuggested,almostgaily,thathemustlookuponthevoyagewithdelight,asastagetowardhiscomingfame.Andwhenherepliedthatfamewithoutlovewasnoattractioninhiseyes,shetreatedhimasachildwhosesorrowswereonlyshort-lived.

"Howcanyouspeak so lightlyof such serious things?"heasked. "Perhapsweshallneverseeeachotheragain!Imaydieduringthatexpedition."

"OrI,"shesaidsimply.

Shenolongersmiledorjested.Sheseemedtobethinkingofsomenewthingthathadenteredhermindforthefirsttime.Hereyeswereallaglowwithit.

"Whatareyouthinkingof,Christine?"

"Iamthinkingthatweshallnotseeeachotheragain..."

"Anddoesthatmakeyousoradiant?"

"Andthat,inamonth,weshallhavetosaygood-byforever!"

"Unless,Christine,wepledgeourfaithandwaitforeachotherforever."

Sheputherhandonhismouth.

"Hush,Raoul!...Youknowthereisnoquestionofthat...Andweshallneverbemarried:thatisunderstood!"

Sheseemedsuddenlyalmostunabletocontainanoverpoweringgaiety.Sheclappedherhandswithchildishglee.Raoulstaredatherinamazement.

"But ... but," she continued, holding out her two hands toRaoul, or rathergivingthemtohim,asthoughshehadsuddenlyresolvedtomakehimapresentofthem,"butifwecannotbemarried,wecan...wecanbeengaged!Nobodywillknowbutourselves,Raoul.Therehavebeenplentyofsecretmarriages:whynotasecretengagement?...Weareengaged,dear,foramonth!Inamonth,youwillgoaway,andIcanbehappyatthethoughtofthatmonthallmylifelong!"

Shewasenchantedwithherinspiration.Thenshebecameseriousagain.

"This,"shesaid,"ISAHAPPINESSTHATWILLHARMNOONE."

Raouljumpedattheidea.HebowedtoChristineandsaid:

"Mademoiselle,Ihavethehonortoaskforyourhand."

"Why,youhavebothofthemalready,mydearbetrothed!...Oh,Raoul,howhappyweshallbe!...Wemustplayatbeingengagedalldaylong."

Itwas theprettiest game in theworld and they enjoyed it like the childrenthat they were. Oh, the wonderful speeches they made to each other and theeternalvowstheyexchanged!Theyplayedatheartsasotherchildrenmightplayatball;only,asitwasreallytheirtwoheartsthattheyflungtoandfro,theyhadtobevery,veryhandytocatchthem,eachtime,withouthurtingthem.

Oneday, about aweek after the gamebegan,Raoul's heartwas badly hurtandhestoppedplayingandutteredthesewildwords:

"Ishan'tgototheNorthPole!"

Christine, who, in her innocence, had not dreamed of such a possibility,suddenlydiscoveredthedangerofthegameandreproachedherselfbitterly.ShedidnotsayawordinreplytoRaoul'sremarkandwentstraighthome.

Thishappenedintheafternoon,inthesinger'sdressing-room,wheretheymeteverydayandwhere theyamused themselvesbydiningon threebiscuits, twoglassesofportandabunchofviolets.In theevening,shedidnotsing;andhedidnotreceivehisusualletter,thoughtheyhadarrangedtowritetoeachotherdailyduringthatmonth.Thenextmorning,heranofftoMammaValerius,whotoldhimthatChristinehadgoneawayfortwodays.Shehadleftatfiveo'clockthedaybefore.

Raoulwasdistracted.HehatedMammaValeriusforgivinghimsuchnewsasthat with such stupefying calmness. He tried to sound her, but the old ladyobviouslyknewnothing.

Christine returned on the following day. She returned in triumph. Sherenewedherextraordinarysuccessofthegalaperformance.Sincetheadventureofthe"toad,"Carlottahadnotbeenabletoappearonthestage.Theterrorofafresh"co-ack"filledherheartanddeprivedherofallherpowerofsinging;andthetheaterthathadwitnessedherincomprehensibledisgracehadbecomeodioustoher.Shecontrivedtocancelhercontract.Daaewasofferedthevacantplaceforthetime.ShereceivedthundersofapplauseintheJuive.

The viscount, who, of course, was present, was the only one to suffer onhearing the thousand echoes of this fresh triumph; forChristine stillwore herplaingoldring.Adistantvoicewhisperedintheyoungman'sear:

"She iswearing the ringagain to-night; andyoudidnotgive it toher.Shegavehersoulagaintonightanddidnotgiveit toyou...Ifshewillnot tellyouwhatshehasbeendoingthepasttwodays...youmustgoandaskErik!"

Heranbehindthescenesandplacedhimselfinherway.Shesawhimforhereyeswerelookingforhim.Shesaid:

"Quick!Quick!...Come!"

Andshedraggedhimtoherdressing-room.

Raoulatoncethrewhimselfonhiskneesbeforeher.Hesworetoherthathewouldgoandheentreatedherneveragaintowithholdasinglehouroftheidealhappinesswhichshehadpromisedhim.Shelethertearsflow.Theykissedlikeadespairing brother and sisterwho have been smittenwith a common loss andwhomeettomournadeadparent.

Suddenly,shesnatchedherselffromtheyoungman'ssoftandtimidembrace,seemed to listen to something, and,with a quick gesture, pointed to the door.When he was on the threshold, she said, in so low a voice that the viscountguessedratherthanheardherwords:

"To-morrow, my dear betrothed! And be happy, Raoul: I sang for you to-night!"

He returned the next day. But those two days of absence had broken thecharm of their delightful make-believe. They looked at each other, in thedressing-room,with their sad eyes, without exchanging aword. Raoul had torestrainhimselfnottocryout:

"Iamjealous!Iamjealous!Iamjealous!"

Butsheheardhimallthesame.Thenshesaid:

"Comeforawalk,dear.Theairwilldoyougood."

Raoul thought that shewould propose a stroll in the country, far from thatbuildingwhichhedetestedasaprisonwhosejailerhecouldfeelwalkingwithinthewalls...thejailerErik...Butshetookhimtothestageandmadehimsitonthewoodencurbofawell,inthedoubtfulpeaceandcoolnessofafirstscenesetfortheevening'sperformance.

On another day, shewanderedwith him, hand in, hand, along the desertedpathsofagardenwhosecreepershadbeencutoutbyadecorator'sskilfulhands.Itwasasthoughtherealsky,therealflowers,therealearthwereforbiddenherforall timeandshecondemnedtobreathenootherair thanthatof the theater.Anoccasional firemanpassed,watchingover theirmelancholy idyll fromafar.

Andshewoulddraghimupabovetheclouds,inthemagnificentdisorderofthegrid,whereshe loved tomakehimgiddybyrunning infrontofhimalong thefrail bridges, among the thousands of ropes fastened to the pulleys, thewindlasses,therollers,inthemidstofaregularforestofyardsandmasts.Ifhehesitated,shesaid,withanadorablepoutofherlips:

"You,asailor!"

Andthentheyreturnedtoterrafirma,thatistosay,tosomepassagethatledthem to the little girls' dancing-school, where brats between six and tenwerepractisingtheirsteps, inthehopeofbecominggreatdancersoneday,"coveredwithdiamonds..."Meanwhile,Christinegavethemsweetsinstead.

She took him to the wardrobe and property-rooms, took him all over herempire,whichwasartificial,but immense,coveringseventeenstoriesfromtheground-floortotheroofandinhabitedbyanarmyofsubjects.Shemovedamongthemlikeapopularqueen,encouragingthemintheirlabors,sittingdownintheworkshops,givingwordsofadvicetotheworkmenwhosehandshesitatedtocutinto the rich stuffs that were to clothe heroes. There were inhabitants of thatcountrywhopractisedeverytrade.Therewerecobblers,thereweregoldsmiths.Allhadlearnedtoknowherandtoloveher,forshealwaysinterestedherselfinalltheirtroublesandalltheirlittlehobbies.

She knew unsuspected corners that were secretly occupied by little oldcouples. She knocked at their door and introducedRaoul to them as a PrinceCharmingwho had asked for her hand; and the two of them, sitting on someworm-eaten"property,"wouldlistentothelegendsoftheOpera,evenas,intheirchildhood, they had listened to the old Breton tales. Those old peoplerememberednothingoutside theOpera.Theyhadlived thereforyearswithoutnumber.Pastmanagementshadforgottenthem;palacerevolutionshadtakennonoticeof them; thehistoryofFrancehadrun itscourseunknownto them;andnobodyrecollectedtheirexistence.

The precious days sped in thisway; andRaoul andChristine, by affectingexcessiveinterestinoutsidematters,stroveawkwardlytohidefromeachothertheone thoughtof their hearts.One factwas certain, thatChristine,whountilthenhadshownherself thestrongerofthetwo,becamesuddenlyinexpressiblynervous.Whenontheirexpeditions,shewouldstart runningwithoutreasonorelsesuddenlystop;andherhand,turningice-coldinamoment,wouldholdthe

youngmanback.Sometimeshereyesseemedtopursueimaginaryshadows.Shecried,"Thisway,"and"Thisway,"and"Thisway,"laughingabreathlesslaughthatoftenendedintears.ThenRaoultriedtospeak,toquestionher,inspiteofhis promises. But, even before he had worded his question, she answeredfeverishly:

"Nothing...Iswearitisnothing."

Once,when theywerepassingbeforeanopen trapdooron thestage,Raoulstoppedoverthedarkcavity.

"Youhaveshownmeovertheupperpartofyourempire,Christine,buttherearestrangestoriestoldofthelowerpart.Shallwegodown?"

Shecaughthiminherarms,asthoughshefearedtoseehimdisappeardowntheblackhole,and,inatremblingvoice,whispered:

"Never! ... I will not have you go there! ... Besides, it's not mine ...EVERYTHINGTHATISUNDERGROUNDBELONGSTOHIM!"

Raoullookedherintheeyesandsaidroughly:

"Sohelivesdownthere,doeshe?"

"Ineversaidso...Whotoldyouathinglikethat?Comeaway!Isometimeswonder if you are quite sane, Raoul ... You always take things in such animpossibleway...Comealong!Come!"

And she literally dragged him away, for he was obstinate and wanted toremainbythetrap-door;thatholeattractedhim.

Suddenly,thetrap-doorwasclosedandsoquicklythattheydidnotevenseethehandthatworkedit;andtheyremainedquitedazed.

"PerhapsHEwasthere,"Raoulsaid,atlast.

Sheshruggedhershoulders,butdidnotseemeasy.

"No,no,itwasthe'trap-door-shutters.'Theymustdosomething,youknow...Theyopenandshut the trap-doorswithoutanyparticularreason ... It's like the'door-shutters:'theymustspendtheirtimesomehow."

"ButsupposeitwereHE,Christine?"

"No,no!Hehasshuthimselfup,heisworking."

"Oh,really!He'sworking,ishe?"

"Yes,hecan'topenandshutthetrap-doorsandworkatthesametime."Sheshivered.

"Whatisheworkingat?"

"Oh,somethingterrible!...Butit'sallthebetterforus...Whenhe'sworkingatthat,heseesnothing;hedoesnoteat,drink,orbreathefordaysandnightsatatime...hebecomesalivingdeadmanandhasnotimetoamusehimselfwiththetrap-doors."Sheshiveredagain.Shewasstillholdinghiminherarms.Thenshesighedandsaid,inherturn:

"SupposeitwereHE!"

"Areyouafraidofhim?"

"No,no,ofcoursenot,"shesaid.

Forallthat,onthenextdayandthefollowingdays,Christinewascarefultoavoid the trap-doors.Heragitationonly increasedas thehourspassed.At last,oneafternoon, she arrivedvery late,withher face sodesperatelypale andhereyessodesperatelyred, thatRaoulresolved togo toall lengths, including thatwhichheforeshadowedwhenheblurtedoutthathewouldnotgoontheNorthPoleexpeditionunlessshefirsttoldhimthesecretoftheman'svoice.

"Hush! Hush, in Heaven's name! Suppose HE heard you, you unfortunateRaoul!"

AndChristine'seyesstaredwildlyateverythingaroundher.

"Iwill removeyoufromhispower,Christine,Iswear it.Andyoushallnotthinkofhimanymore."

"Isitpossible?"

Sheallowedherselfthisdoubt,whichwasanencouragernent,whiledraggingtheyoungmanuptothetopmostfloorofthetheater,far,veryfarfromthetrap-doors.

"I shallhideyou in someunknowncornerof theworld,whereHEcannotcometolookforyou.Youwillbesafe;andthenIshallgoaway...asyouhaveswornnevertomarry."

Christine seized Raoul's hands and squeezed themwith incredible rapture.But,suddenlybecomingalarmedagain,sheturnedawayherhead.

"Higher!"wasallshesaid."Higherstill!"

Andshedraggedhimuptowardthesummit.

Hehadadifficultyinfollowingher.Theyweresoonundertheveryroof,inthemaze of timber-work. They slipped through the buttresses, the rafters, thejoists;theyranfrombeamtobeamastheymighthaverunfromtreetotreeinaforest.

And,despitethecarewhichshetooktolookbehindherateverymoment,she

failedtoseeashadowwhichfollowedherlikeherownshadow,whichstoppedwhenshestopped,whichstartedagainwhenshedidandwhichmadenomorenoisethanawell-conductedshadowshould.AsforRaoul,hesawnothingeither;for,whenhehadChristineinfrontofhim,nothinginterestedhimthathappenedbehind.

ChapterXIIApollo'sLyre

On thisway, they reached the roof.Christine trippedover it as lightly as aswallow. Their eyes swept the empty space between the three domes and thetriangularpediment.Shebreathed freelyoverParis, thewholevalleyofwhichwasseenatworkbelow.ShecalledRaoul tocomequiteclose toherand theywalkedsidebysidealongthezincstreets,intheleadenavenues;theylookedattheir twin shapes in the huge tanks, full of stagnant water, where, in the hotweather,thelittleboysoftheballet,ascoreorso,learntoswimanddive.

The shadowhad followedbehind themclinging to their steps; and the twochildrenlittlesuspecteditspresencewhentheyatlastsatdown,trustingly,underthemightyprotectionofApollo,who,withagreatbronzegesture,liftedhishugelyretotheheartofacrimsonsky.

It was a gorgeous spring evening. Clouds, which had just received theirgossamer robeofgold andpurple from the setting sun,drifted slowlyby; andChristinesaidtoRaoul:

"Soonweshallgofartherandfasterthantheclouds,totheendoftheworld,andthenyouwillleaveme,Raoul.But,if,whenthemomentcomesforyoutotakemeaway,Irefusetogowithyou—wellyoumustcarrymeoffbyforce!"

"Areyouafraidthatyouwillchangeyourmind,Christine?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head in an odd fashion. "He is ademon!"And she shivered and nestled in his armswith amoan. "I am afraidnowofgoingbacktolivewithhim...intheground!"

"Whatcompelsyoutogoback,Christine?"

"IfIdonotgobacktohim,terriblemisfortunesmayhappen!...ButIcan'tdoit,Ican'tdoit!...Iknowoneoughttobesorryforpeoplewholiveunderground...Butheistoohorrible!Andyetthetimeisathand;Ihaveonlyadayleft;and,ifIdonotgo,hewillcomeandfetchmewithhisvoice.Andhewilldragmewithhim,underground, andgoonhis kneesbeforeme,withhis death's head.Andhewill tellmethathelovesme!Andhewillcry!Oh, thosetears,Raoul,thosetearsinthetwoblackeye-socketsofthedeath'shead!Icannotseethosetearsflowagain!"

Shewrungherhandsinanguish,whileRaoulpressedhertohisheart.

"No,no,youshallneveragainhearhimtellyouthathelovesyou!Youshallnotseehistears!Letusfly,Christine,letusflyatonce!"

Andhetriedtodragheraway,thenandthere.Butshestoppedhim.

"No,no,"shesaid,shakingherheadsadly."Notnow!...Itwouldbetoocruel... let himhearme sing to-morrowevening ... and thenwewill go away.Youmustcomeandfetchmeinmydressing-roomatmidnightexactly.Hewillthenbewaiting forme in thedining-roomby the lake ...we shall be free andyoushall takemeaway...Youmustpromisemethat,Raoul,evenifIrefuse;forIfeelthat,ifIgobackthistime,Ishallperhapsneverreturn."

Andshegaveasightowhichitseemedtoherthatanothersigh,behindher,replied.

"Didn'tyouhear?"

Herteethchattered.

"No,"saidRaoul,"Iheardnothing."

"It is too terrible,"sheconfessed,"tobealways trembling like this! ...Andyetwe runnodangerhere;we are at home, in the sky, in theopen air, in thelight.Thesunisflaming;andnight-birdscannotbeartolookatthesun.Ihaveneverseenhimbydaylight...itmustbeawful!...Oh,thefirsttimeIsawhim!...Ithoughtthathewasgoingtodie."

"Why?" asked Raoul, really frightened at the aspect which this strangeconfidencewastaking.

"BECAUSEIHADSEENHIM!"

Thistime,RaoulandChristineturnedroundatthesametime:

"There is someone inpain,"saidRaoul. "Perhapssomeonehasbeenhurt.Didyouhear?"

"Ican'tsay,"Christineconfessed."Evenwhenheisnotthere,myearsarefullofhissighs.Still,ifyouheard..."

They stood up and looked around them. They were quite alone on theimmenseleadroof.TheysatdownagainandRaoulsaid:

"Tellmehowyousawhimfirst."

"Ihadheardhimforthreemonthswithoutseeinghim.ThefirsttimeIheardit,Ithought,asyoudid,thatthatadorablevoicewassinginginanotherroom.Iwentoutandlookedeverywhere;but,asyouknow,Raoul,mydressing-roomisverymuchbyitself;andIcouldnotfindthevoiceoutsidemyroom,whereasitwentonsteadilyinside.Anditnotonlysang,butitspoketomeandansweredmyquestions,likearealman'svoice,withthisdifference,thatitwasasbeautifulas the voice of an angel. I had never got theAngel ofMusicwhommy poorfather had promised to send me as soon as he was dead. I really think thatMammaValeriuswas a littlebit toblame. I toldher about it; and she atoncesaid,'ItmustbetheAngel;atanyrate,youcandonoharmbyaskinghim.'Ididso; and the man's voice replied that, yes, it was the Angel's voice, the voicewhich Iwasexpectingandwhichmy fatherhadpromisedme.From that timeonward,thevoiceandIbecamegreatfriends.Itaskedleavetogivemelessonseveryday.Iagreedandneverfailedtokeeptheappointmentwhichitgavemeinmydressing-room.Youhavenoidea,thoughyouhaveheardthevoice,ofwhatthoselessonswerelike."

"No,Ihavenoidea,"saidRaoul."Whatwasyouraccompaniment?"

"WewereaccompaniedbyamusicwhichIdonotknow:itwasbehindthewallandwonderfullyaccurate.Thevoiceseemedtounderstandmineexactly,toknowpreciselywheremyfatherhadleftoffteachingme.Inafewweeks'time,I

hardlyknewmyselfwhenIsang.Iwasevenfrightened.Iseemedtodreadasortof witchcraft behind it; butMammaValerius reassuredme. She said that sheknewIwasmuchtoosimpleagirltogivethedevilaholdonme...Myprogress,bythevoice'sownorder,waskeptasecretbetweenthevoice,MammaValeriusandmyself. Itwasacurious thing,but,outside thedressing-room, I sangwithmy ordinary, every-day voice and nobody noticed anything. I did all that thevoice asked. It said, 'Wait and see:we shall astonishParis!'And Iwaited andlivedoninasortofecstaticdream.ItwasthenthatIsawyouforthefirsttimeoneevening,inthehouse.IwassogladthatIneverthoughtofconcealingmydelight when I reachedmy dressing-room.Unfortunately, the voicewas therebeforemeandsoonnoticed,bymyair, thatsomethinghadhappened. Itaskedwhat was the matter and I saw no reason for keeping our story secret orconcealingtheplacewhichyoufilledinmyheart.Thenthevoicewassilent.Icalled to it, but it did not reply; I begged and entreated, but in vain. I wasterrifiedlestithadgoneforgood.IwishtoHeavenithad,dear!...Thatnight,Iwenthomeinadesperatecondition.ItoldMammaValerius,whosaid,'Why,ofcourse, the voice is jealous!' And that, dear, first revealed tome that I lovedyou."

ChristinestoppedandlaidherheadonRaoul'sshoulder.Theysatlikethatforamoment,insilence,andtheydidnotsee,didnotperceivethemovement,atafewstepsfromthem,ofthecreepingshadowoftwogreatblackwings,ashadowthatcamealongtheroofsonear,sonearthemthatitcouldhavestifledthembyclosingoverthem.

"The next day," Christine continued, with a sigh, "I went back to mydressing-roominaverypensiveframeofmind.Thevoicewas there,spoke tomewith great sadness and toldmeplainly that, if Imust bestowmyheart onearth,therewasnothingforthevoicetodobuttogobacktoHeaven.AnditsaidthiswithsuchanaccentofHUMANsorrowthatIoughtthenandtheretohavesuspectedandbeguntobelievethatIwasthevictimofmydeludedsenses.Butmy faith in the voice, with which the memory of my father was so closelyintermingled, remained undisturbed. I feared nothing somuch as that Imightnever hear it again; I had thought aboutmy love for you and realized all theuselessdangerofit;andIdidnotevenknowifyourememberedme.Whateverhappened,yourpositioninsocietyforbademetocontemplatethepossibilityofever marrying you; and I swore to the voice that you were no more than abrothertomenoreverwouldbeandthatmyheartwasincapableofanyearthlylove.Andthat,dear,waswhyIrefusedtorecognizeorseeyouwhenImetyou

on the stage or in the passages.Meanwhile, the hours duringwhich the voicetaughtmewerespentinadivinefrenzy,until,atlast,thevoicesaidtome,'Youcannow,ChristineDaae, give tomen a little of themusic ofHeaven.' I don'tknowhowitwasthatCarlottadidnotcometothetheaterthatnightnorwhyIwascalledupontosinginherstead;butIsangwitharaptureIhadneverknownbeforeandIfeltforamomentasifmysoulwereleavingmybody!"

"Oh,Christine,"saidRaoul,"myheartquiveredthatnightateveryaccentofyourvoice.IsawthetearsstreamdownyourcheeksandIweptwithyou.Howcouldyousing,singlikethatwhilecrying?"

"I felt myself fainting," said Christine, "I closedmy eyes.When I openedthem,youwerebymyside.Butthevoicewastherealso,Raoul!Iwasafraidforyour sake and again Iwouldnot recognizeyou andbegan to laughwhenyouremindedme that youhadpickedupmy scarf in the sea! ...Alas, there is nodeceivingthevoice!...Thevoicerecognizedyouandthevoicewasjealous!...Itsaidthat,ifIdidnotloveyou,Iwouldnotavoidyou,buttreatyoulikeanyotheroldfriend.Itmademesceneuponscene.Atlast,Isaidtothevoice, 'Thatwilldo!IamgoingtoPerrosto-morrow,toprayonmyfather'sgrave,andIshallaskM.RaouldeChagnytogowithme.''Doasyouplease,'repliedthevoice,'butIshallbeatPerrostoo,forIamwhereveryouare,Christine;and,ifyouarestillworthyofme, ifyouhavenot lied tome, IwillplayyouTheResurrectionofLazarus,on the strokeofmidnight,onyour father's tombandonyour father'sviolin.'That,dear,washow I came towriteyou the letter thatbroughtyou toPerros. How could I have been so beguiled? How was it, when I saw thepersonal, the selfish point of view of the voice, that I did not suspect someimpostor?Alas,Iwasnolongermistressofmyself:Ihadbecomehisthing!"

"But,afterall,"criedRaoul,"yousooncametoknowthetruth!Whydidyounotatonceridyourselfofthatabominablenightmare?"

"Knowthetruth,Raoul?Ridmyselfofthatnightmare?But,mypoorboy,Iwasnotcaught in thenightmareuntil thedaywhenI learned the truth! ...Pityme,Raoul,pityme!...YouremembertheterribleeveningwhenCarlottathoughtthat she had been turned into a toad on the stage and when the house wassuddenlyplungedindarknessthroughthechandeliercrashingtothefloor?Therewere killed and wounded that night and the whole theater rang with terrifiedscreams.Myfirstthoughtwasforyouandthevoice.Iwasatonceeasy,whereyouwereconcerned, for Ihad seenyou inyourbrother'sboxand Iknew that

you were not in danger. But the voice had told me that it would be at theperformance and I was really afraid for it, just as if it had been an ordinarypersonwhowascapableofdying.Ithoughttomyself,'Thechandeliermayhavecomedownuponthevoice.'Iwasthenonthestageandwasnearlyrunningintothehouse,tolookforthevoiceamongthekilledandwounded,whenIthoughtthat, if the voicewas safe, itwould be sure to be inmy dressing-room and Irushedtomyroom.Thevoicewasnotthere.Ilockedmydoorand,withtearsinmyeyes,besoughtit,ifitwerestillalive,tomanifestitselftome.Thevoicedidnotreply,butsuddenlyIheardalong,beautifulwailwhichIknewwell.ItistheplaintofLazaruswhen,atthesoundoftheRedeemer'svoice,hebeginstoopenhiseyesandseethelightofday.ItwasthemusicwhichyouandI,Raoul,heardat Perros. And then the voice began to sing the leading phrase, 'Come! Andbelieveinme!Whosobelievesinmeshalllive!Walk!Whosohathbelievedinmeshallneverdie! ...' Icannot tellyou theeffectwhich thatmusichaduponme.Itseemedtocommandme,personally,tocome,tostandupandcometoit.ItretreatedandIfollowed.'Come!Andbelieveinme!'Ibelievedinit,Icame...Icame and—this was the extraordinary thing—my dressing-room, as I moved,seemed to lengthen out ... to lengthen out ... Evidently, it must have been aneffectofmirrors ... forIhadthemirror infrontofme...And,suddenly,Iwasoutsidetheroomwithoutknowinghow!"

"What! Without knowing how? Christine, Christine, you must really stopdreaming!"

"I was not dreaming, dear, I was outsidemy roomwithout knowing how.You,whosawmedisappearfrommyroomoneevening,maybeabletoexplainit;butIcannot.Icanonlytellyouthat,suddenly,therewasnomirrorbeforemeandnodressing-room.Iwasinadarkpassage,IwasfrightenedandIcriedout.Itwasquitedark,but fora faint redglimmerat adistantcornerof thewall. Itried out. My voice was the only sound, for the singing and the violin hadstopped.And,suddenly,ahandwaslaidonmine...orratherastone-cold,bonythingthatseizedmywristanddidnotletgo.Icriedoutagain.Anarmtookmeroundthewaistandsupportedme.Istruggledforalittlewhileandthengaveuptheattempt.IwasdraggedtowardthelittleredlightandthenIsawthatIwasinthehandsof amanwrapped in a large cloak andwearing amask that hidhiswhole face. I made one last effort; my limbs stiffened, my mouth opened toscream,butahandclosedit,ahandwhichIfeltonmylips,onmyskin...ahandthatsmeltofdeath.ThenIfaintedaway.

"When Iopenedmyeyes,wewerestill surroundedbydarkness.A lantern,standingontheground,showedabubblingwell.Thewatersplashingfromthewelldisappeared,almostatonce,undertheflooronwhichIwaslying,withmyhead on the knee of theman in the black cloak and the blackmask.Hewasbathingmytemplesandhishandssmeltofdeath.Itriedtopushthemawayandasked, 'Who are you? Where is the voice?' His only answer was a sigh.Suddenly,ahotbreathpassedovermyfaceandIperceivedawhiteshape,besidetheman'sblackshape,inthedarkness.Theblackshapeliftedmeontothewhiteshape,agladneighinggreetedmyastoundedearsandImurmured,'Cesar!'Theanimalquivered.Raoul,IwaslyinghalfbackonasaddleandIhadrecognizedthewhitehorseoutof thePROFETA,whichIhadsooftenfedwithsugarandsweets.Irememberedthat,oneevening,therewasarumorinthetheaterthatthehorsehaddisappearedandthatithadbeenstolenbytheOperaghost.Ibelievedin the voice, but had never believed in the ghost. Now, however, I began towonder,withashiver,whetherIwastheghost'sprisoner.Icalleduponthevoicetohelpme,forIshouldneverhaveimaginedthatthevoiceandtheghostwereone.YouhaveheardabouttheOperaghost,haveyounot,Raoul?"

"Yes, but tellmewhat happenedwhenyouwereon thewhite horseof theProfeta?"

"Imadenomovementandletmyselfgo.Theblackshapeheldmeup,andImadenoefforttoescape.AcuriousfeelingofpeacefulnesscameovermeandIthought that I must be under the influence of some cordial. I had the fullcommandofmysenses;andmyeyesbecameusedto thedarkness,whichwaslit,hereandthere,byfitfulgleams.Icalculatedthatwewereinanarrowcirculargallery,probablyrunningallroundtheOpera,whichisimmense,underground.Ihadoncebeendownintothosecellars,buthadstoppedatthethirdfloor,thoughthereweretwolowerstill,largeenoughtoholdatown.ButthefiguresofwhichIcaughtsighthadmademerunaway.Therearedemonsdownthere,quiteblack,standinginfrontofboilers,andtheywieldshovelsandpitchforksandpokeupfires and stir up flames and, if you come too near them, they frighten you bysuddenly opening the red mouths of their furnaces ... Well, while Cesar wasquietly carrying me on his back, I saw those black demons in the distance,looking quite small, in front of the red fires of their furnaces: they came intosight,disappearedandcameintosightagain,aswewentonourwindingway.Atlast, theydisappearedaltogether.TheshapewasstillholdingmeupandCesarwalkedon,unledandsure-footed.Icouldnottellyou,evenapproximately,howlongthisridelasted;Ionlyknowthatweseemedtoturnandturnandoftenwent

downaspiralstairintotheveryheartoftheearth.Eventhen,itmaybethatmyhead was turning, but I don't think so: no, mymind was quite clear. At last,Cesar raisedhisnostrils, sniffed theairandquickenedhispacea little. I feltamoistnessintheairandCesarstopped.Thedarknesshadlifted.Asortofblueylight surrounded us. We were on the edge of a lake, whose leaden watersstretched into thedistance, into thedarkness;but theblue light litup thebankandIsawalittleboatfastenedtoanironringonthewharf!"

"Aboat!"

"Yes,butIknewthatallthatexistedandthattherewasnothingsupernaturalaboutthatundergroundlakeandboat.ButthinkoftheexceptionalconditionsinwhichIarriveduponthatshore!Idon'tknowwhethertheeffectsofthecordialhadwornoffwhentheman'sshapeliftedmeintotheboat,butmyterrorbeganalloveragain.Mygruesomeescortmusthavenoticedit,forhesentCesarbackand I heard his hoofs trampling up a staircasewhile theman jumped into theboat, untied the rope that held it and seized the oars.He rowedwith a quick,powerfulstroke;andhiseyes,underthemask,neverleftme.Weslippedacrossthenoiselesswater in thebluey lightwhichI toldyouof; thenwewere in thedarkagainandwe touchedshore.AndIwasoncemore takenup in theman'sarms.Icriedaloud.Andthen,suddenly,Iwassilent,dazedbythelight...Yes,adazzlinglightinthemidstofwhichIhadbeenputdown.Isprangtomyfeet.Iwasinthemiddleofadrawing-roomthatseemedtometobedecorated,adornedand furnished with nothing but flowers, flowers both magnificent and stupid,becauseofthesilkribbonsthattiedthemtobaskets,likethosewhichtheysellinthe shopson theboulevards.Theyweremuch toocivilized flowers, like thosewhichIusedtofindinmydressing-roomafterafirstnight.And,inthemidstofall these flowers, stood the black shape of the man in the mask, with armscrossed,andhesaid, 'Don'tbeafraid,Christine;youareinnodanger.'ITWASTHEVOICE!

"Myangerequaledmyamazement.Irushedatthemaskandtriedtosnatchitaway,soastoseethefaceofthevoice.Themansaid,'Youareinnodanger,solong as you do not touch themask.' And, takingme gently by thewrists, heforcedme into a chair and thenwent down on his knees beforeme and saidnothingmore!His humility gaveme back some ofmy courage; and the lightrestoredmetotherealtiesoflife.Howeverextraordinarytheadventuremightbe,I was now surrounded by mortal, visible, tangible things. The furniture, thehangings,thecandles,thevasesandtheveryflowersintheirbaskets,ofwhichI

could almost have toldwhence they came andwhat they cost,were bound toconfinemyimaginationtothelimitsofadrawing-roomquiteascommonplaceasanythat,atleast,hadtheexcuseofnotbeinginthecellarsoftheOpera.Ihad,no doubt, to do with a terrible, eccentric person, who, in some mysteriousfashion,hadsucceededintakinguphisabodethere,undertheOperahouse,fivestories below the level of the ground. And the voice, the voice which I hadrecognizedunder themask,wason itskneesbeforeme,WASAMAN!AndIbegan to cry...Theman, still kneeling,musthaveunderstood the causeofmytears,forhesaid,'Itistrue,Christine!...IamnotanAngel,noragenius,noraghost...IamErik!'"

Christine'snarrativewasagain interrupted.Anechobehindthemseemedtorepeatthewordafterher.

"Erik!"

Whatecho?...Theybothturnedroundandsawthatnighthadfallen.Raoulmadeamovementasthoughtorise,butChristinekepthimbesideher.

"Don'tgo,"shesaid."IwantyoutoknoweverythingHERE!"

"Butwhyhere,Christine?Iamafraidofyourcatchingcold."

"Wehavenothingtofearexceptthetrap-doors,dear,andherewearemilesawayfromthetrap-doors...andIamnotallowedtoseeyououtsidethetheater.Thisisnotthetimetoannoyhim.Wemustnotarousehissuspicion."

"Christine!Christine!Something tellsme thatwearewrong towait till to-morroweveningandthatweoughttoflyatonce."

"I tell you that, if he does not hear me sing tomorrow, it will cause himinfinitepain."

"Itisdifficultnottocausehimpainandyettoescapefromhimforgood."

"Youarerightinthat,Raoul,forcertainlyhewilldieofmyflight."Andsheaddedinadullvoice,"Butthenitcountsbothways...forweriskhiskillingus."

"Doesheloveyousomuch?"

"Hewouldcommitmurderforme."

"Butonecanfindoutwherehelives.Onecangoinsearchofhim.Nowthatwe know that Erik is not a ghost, one can speak to him and force him toanswer!"

Christineshookherhead.

"No,no!ThereisnothingtobedonewithErikexcepttorunaway!"

"Thenwhy,whenyouwereabletorunaway,didyougobacktohim?"

"Because Ihad to.Andyouwillunderstand thatwhenI tellyouhowI lefthim."

"Oh,Ihatehim!"criedRaoul."Andyou,Christine,tellme,doyouhatehimtoo?"

"No,"saidChristinesimply.

"No,ofcoursenot...Why,youlovehim!Yourfear,yourterror,allofthatisjustloveandloveofthemostexquisitekind,thekindwhichpeopledonotadmiteventothemselves,"saidRaoulbitterly."Thekindthatgivesyouathrill,whenyouthinkof it...Pictureit:amanwholivesinapalaceunderground!"Andhegavealeer.

"Thenyouwantmetogobackthere?"saidtheyounggirlcruelly."Takecare,Raoul;Ihavetoldyou:Ishouldneverreturn!"

Therewasanappallingsilencebetweenthethreeofthem:thetwowhospokeandtheshadowthatlistened,behindthem.

"Beforeansweringthat,"saidRaoul,atlast,speakingveryslowly,"Ishouldliketoknowwithwhatfeelingheinspiresyou,sinceyoudonothatehim."

"Withhorror!"shesaid."Thatistheterriblethingaboutit.HefillsmewithhorrorandIdonothatehim.HowcanIhatehim,Raoul?ThinkofErikatmyfeet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curseshimself,heimploresmyforgiveness!...Heconfesseshischeat.Helovesme!Helaysatmyfeetanimmenseandtragiclove...Hehascarriedmeoffforlove!...

Hehasimprisonedmewithhim,underground,forlove!...Butherespectsme:hecrawls,hemoans,heweeps! ...And,whenIstoodup,Raoul,and toldhimthatIcouldonlydespisehimifhedidnot,thenandthere,givememyliberty...heoffered it ... heoffered to showme themysterious road ...Only ... onlyherosetoo...andIwasmadetorememberthat,thoughhewasnotanangel,noraghost,noragenius,heremainedthevoice...forhesang.AndIlistened...andstayed!...Thatnight,wedidnotexchangeanotherword.Hesangmetosleep.

"When Iwokeup, Iwas alone, lyingon a sofa in a simply furnished littlebedroom,with an ordinarymahogany bedstead, lit by a lamp standing on themarble topof anoldLouis-Philippechestofdrawers. I soondiscovered that Iwasaprisonerandthattheonlyoutletfrommyroomledtoaverycomfortablebath-room.Onreturningtothebedroom,Isawonthechestofdrawersanote,inred ink,which said, 'MydearChristine, youneedhave no concern as to yourfate.Youhavenobetternormorerespectfulfriendintheworldthanmyself.Youarealone,atpresent, in thishomewhich isyours. I amgoingout shopping tofetchyouall the things thatyoucanneed.' I felt sure that Ihadfallen into thehandsofamadman.Iranroundmylittleapartment,lookingforawayofescapewhichIcouldnotfind.Iupbraidedmyselfformyabsurdsuperstition,whichhadcausedme to fall into the trap. I felt inclined to laugh and to cry at the sametime.

"ThiswasthestateofmindinwhichErikfoundme.Aftergivingthreetapson thewall, hewalked in quietly through a doorwhich I hadnot noticed andwhichheleftopen.Hehadhisarmsfullofboxesandparcelsandarrangedthemon the bed, in a leisurely fashion, while I overwhelmed him with abuse andcalleduponhimtotakeoffhismask,ifitcoveredthefaceofanhonestman.Herepliedserenely,'YoushallneverseeErik'sface.'Andhereproachedmewithnothavingfinisheddressingatthattimeofday:hewasgoodenoughtotellmethatitwastwoo'clockintheafternoon.Hesaidhewouldgivemehalfanhourand,whilehespoke,woundupmywatchandsetitforme.Afterwhich,heaskedmetocometothedining-room,whereanicelunchwaswaitingforus.

"Iwasveryangry,slammedthedoorinhisfaceandwenttothebath-room...WhenIcameoutagain,feelinggreatlyrefreshed,Eriksaidthathelovedme,butthathewouldnevertellmesoexceptwhenIallowedhimandthattherestofthetimewouldbedevotedtomusic. 'Whatdoyoumeanbytherestofthetime?'Iasked.'Fivedays,'hesaid,withdecision.IaskedhimifIshouldthenbefreeandhesaid,'Youwillbefree,Christine,for,whenthosefivedaysarepast,youwill

have learnednot toseeme;and then, fromtime to time,youwillcome toseeyourpoorErik!'Hepointed toachairoppositehim,atasmall table,andIsatdown,feelinggreatlyperturbed.However,Iateafewprawnsandthewingofachicken and drank half a glass of tokay, which he had himself, he told me,broughtfromtheKonigsbergcellars.Erikdidnoteatordrink.Iaskedhimwhathis nationalitywas and if that nameofErikdidnot point to hisScandinavianorigin.Hesaid thathehadnonameandnocountryand thathehad taken thenameofErikbyaccident.

"Afterlunch,heroseandgavemethetipsofhisfingers,sayinghewouldliketoshowmeoverhisflat;butIsnatchedawaymyhandandgaveacry.WhatIhad touchedwascold and, at the same time,bony; and I remembered thathishandssmeltofdeath.'Oh,forgiveme!'hemoaned.Andheopenedadoorbeforeme.'Thisismybedroom,ifyoucaretoseeit.Itisrathercurious.'Hismanners,hiswords,hisattitudegavemeconfidenceandIwentinwithouthesitation.Ifeltas if Iwereentering the roomofadeadperson.Thewallswereallhungwithblack, but, instead of the white trimmings that usually set off that funerealupholstery, therewas an enormous stave ofmusicwith the notes of theDIESIRAE, many times repeated. In the middle of the room was a canopy, fromwhichhungcurtainsofredbrocadedstuff,and,underthecanopy,anopencoffin.'ThatiswhereIsleep,'saidErik.'Onehastogetusedtoeverythinginlife,eventoeternity.'ThesightupsetmesomuchthatIturnedawaymyhead.

"Then I saw the keyboard of an organwhich filled onewhole side of thewalls.On thedeskwasamusic-bookcoveredwith rednotes. I asked leave tolookatitandread,'DonJuanTriumphant.''Yes,'hesaid,'Icomposesometimes.'Ibeganthatworktwentyyearsago.WhenIhavefinished,Ishall takeitawaywithmeinthatcoffinandneverwakeupagain.''Youmustworkatitasseldomas you can,' I said. He replied, 'I sometimeswork at it for fourteen days andnightstogether,duringwhichIliveonmusiconly,andthenIrestforyearsatatime.''WillyouplaymesomethingoutofyourDonJuanTriumphant?'Iasked,thinkingtopleasehim.'Youmustneveraskmethat,'hesaid,inagloomyvoice.'IwillplayyouMozart,ifyoulike,whichwillonlymakeyouweep;butmyDonJuan,Christine,burns;andyetheisnotstruckbyfirefromHeaven.'Thereuponwereturnedtothedrawing-room.Inoticedthattherewasnomirrorinthewholeapartment.Iwasgoingtoremarkuponthis,butErikhadalreadysatdowntothepiano.Hesaid,'Yousee,Christine,thereissomemusicthatissoterriblethatitconsumes all those who approach it. Fortunately, you have not come to thatmusicyet,foryouwouldloseallyourprettycoloringandnobodywouldknow

youwhenyoureturnedtoParis.LetussingsomethingfromtheOpera,ChristineDaae.'Hespoketheselastwordsasthoughhewereflinginganinsultatme."

"Whatdidyoudo?"

"Ihadnotimetothinkaboutthemeaningheputintohiswords.Weatoncebegan the duet in Othello and already the catastrophe was upon us. I sangDesdemonawithadespair,a terrorwhichIhadneverdisplayedbefore.Asforhim,hisvoicethunderedforthhisrevengefulsoulateverynote.Love,jealousy,hatred,burstoutaroundusinharrowingcries.Erik'sblackmaskmademethinkofthenaturalmaskoftheMoorofVenice.HewasOthellohimself.Suddenly,Ifeltaneed toseebeneath themask. Iwanted toknow theFACEof thevoice,and,withamovementwhichIwasutterlyunabletocontrol,swiftlymyfingerstoreawaythemask.Oh,horror,horror,horror!"

Christinestopped,atthethoughtofthevisionthathadscaredher,whiletheechoesofthenight,whichhadrepeatedthenameofErik,nowthricemoanedthecry:

"Horror!...Horror!...Horror!"

RaoulandChristine,claspingeachotherclosely,raisedtheireyestothestarsthatshoneinaclearandpeacefulsky.Raoulsaid:

"Strange,Christine, that this calm, soft night should be so full of plaintivesounds.Onewouldthinkthatitwassorrowingwithus."

"When you know the secret, Raoul, your ears, like mine, will be full oflamentations."

ShetookRaoul'sprotectinghandsinhersand,withalongshiver,continued:

"Yes,ifIlivedtobeahundred,Ishouldalwayshearthesuperhumancryofgriefandragewhichheutteredwhentheterriblesightappearedbeforemyeyes...Raoul,youhaveseendeath'sheads,whentheyhavebeendriedandwitheredby the centuries, and,perhaps, if youwerenot thevictimof anightmare,yousawHISdeath'sheadatPerros.AndthenyousawRedDeathstalkingaboutatthelastmaskedball.Butallthosedeath'sheadsweremotionlessandtheirdumbhorror was not alive. But imagine, if you can, Red Death's mask suddenlycomingtolifeinordertoexpress,withthefourblackholesofitseyes,itsnose,

and itsmouth, the extreme anger, themighty fury of a demon;ANDNOTARAYOFLIGHTFROMTHESOCKETS,for,asIlearnedlater,youcannotseehisblazingeyesexceptinthedark.

"Ifellbackagainstthewallandhecameuptome,grindinghisteeth,and,asIfelluponmyknees,hehissedmad,incoherentwordsandcursesatme.Leaningoverme,hecried,'Look!Youwanttosee!See!Feastyoureyes,glutyoursoulonmycursedugliness!LookatErik'sface!Nowyouknowthefaceofthevoice!Youwerenotcontenttohearme,eh?YouwantedtoknowwhatIlookedlike!Oh, you women are so inquisitive!Well, are you satisfied? I'm a very good-lookingfellow,eh?...Whenawomanhasseenme,asyouhave,shebelongstome.Shelovesmeforever.IamakindofDonJuan,youknow!'And,drawinghimselfuptohisfullheight,withhishandonhiship,waggingthehideousthingthatwashisheadonhisshoulders,heroared, 'Lookatme!IAMDONJUANTRIUMPHANT!'And,whenIturnedawaymyheadandbeggedformercy,hedrewittohim,brutally,twistinghisdeadfingersintomyhair."

"Enough! Enough!" cried Raoul. "I will kill him. In Heaven's name,Christine,tellmewherethedining-roomonthelakeis!Imustkillhim!"

"Oh,bequiet,Raoul,ifyouwanttoknow!"

"Yes,Iwanttoknowhowandwhyyouwentback;Imustknow!...But,inanycase,Iwillkillhim!"

"Oh,Raoul,listen,listen!...Hedraggedmebymyhairandthen...andthen...Oh,itistoohorrible!"

"Well,what?Outwithit!"exclaimedRaoulfiercely."Outwithit,quick!"

"Thenhehissedatme.'Ah,Ifrightenyou,doI?...Idaresay!...Perhapsyouthink that Ihaveanothermask,eh,and that this ... this ...myhead isamask?Well,'he roared, 'tear itoffasyoudid theother!Come!Comealong! I insist!Yourhands!Yourhands!Givemeyourhands!'Andheseizedmyhandsanddugthemintohisawfulface.Hetorehisfleshwithmynails, torehisterribledeadfleshwithmynails!...'Know,'heshouted,whilehisthroatthrobbedandpantedlikeafurnace,'knowthatIambuiltupofdeathfromheadtofootandthatitisacorpsethatlovesyouandadoresyouandwillnever,neverleaveyou!...Look,Iamnotlaughingnow,Iamcrying,cryingforyou,Christine,whohavetornoffmymaskandwhothereforecanneverleavemeagain!...Aslongasyouthought

mehandsome,youcouldhavecomeback,Iknowyouwouldhavecomeback...but,nowthatyouknowmyhideousness,youwouldrunawayforgood...SoIshallkeepyouhere! ...Whydidyouwant toseeme?Oh,madChristine,whowantedtoseeme!...Whenmyownfatherneversawmeandwhenmymother,soasnottoseeme,mademeapresentofmyfirstmask!'

"He had let go ofme at last andwas dragging himself about on the floor,uttering terrible sobs. And then he crawled away like a snake, went into hisroom,closedthedoorandleftmealonetomyreflections.PresentlyIheardthesoundoftheorgan;andthenIbegantounderstandErik'scontemptuousphrasewhenhespokeaboutOperamusic.WhatInowheardwasutterlydifferentfromwhatIhadhearduptothen.HisDonJuanTriumphant(forIhadnotadoubtbutthathehadrushedtohismasterpiecetoforgetthehorrorofthemoment)seemedtomeatfirstonelong,awful,magnificentsob.But,littlebylittle,itexpressedeveryemotion,everysufferingofwhichmankindiscapable.Itintoxicatedme;andIopened thedoor that separatedus.Erik rose,as Ientered,BUTDAREDNOTTURN INMYDIRECTION. 'Erik,' I cried, 'showmeyour facewithoutfear! I swear that you are themost unhappy and sublimeofmen; and, if everagain I shiver when I look at you, it will be because I am thinking of thesplendorofyourgenius!'ThenErikturnedround,forhebelievedme,andIalsohadfaithinmyself.Hefellatmyfeet,withwordsoflove...withwordsofloveinhisdeadmouth...andthemusichadceased...HekissedthehemofmydressanddidnotseethatIclosedmyeyes.

"WhatmorecanItellyou,dear?Younowknowthetragedy.Itwentonforafortnight—afortnightduringwhichIliedtohim.Mylieswereashideousasthemonsterwhoinspiredthem;buttheywerethepriceofmyliberty.Iburnedhismask; and Imanaged sowell that, evenwhen hewas not singing, he tried tocatchmyeye,likeadogsittingbyitsmaster.Hewasmyfaithfulslaveandpaidme endless little attentions. Gradually, I gave him such confidence that heventuredtotakemewalkingonthebanksofthelakeandtorowmeintheboaton its leadenwaters; toward theendofmycaptivityhe letmeout throughthegates that closed the undergroundpassages in theRueScribe.Here a carriageawaitedusandtookustotheBois.Thenightwhenwemetyouwasnearlyfataltome,forheisterriblyjealousofyouandIhadtotellhimthatyouweresoongoing away ... Then, at last, after a fortnight of that horrible captivity, duringwhichIwasfilledwithpity,enthusiasm,despairandhorrorbyturns,hebelievedmewhenIsaid,'IWILLCOMEBACK!'"

"Andyouwentback,Christine,"groanedRaoul.

"Yes,dear,andImusttellyouthatitwasnothisfrightfulthreatswhensettingmefreethathelpedmetokeepmyword,buttheharrowingsobwhichhegaveon the threshold of the tomb. ... That sob attachedme to the unfortunatemanmore than I myself suspected when saying good-by to him. Poor Erik! PoorErik!"

"Christine," saidRaoul, rising, "you tellme that you loveme;but youhadrecovered your liberty hardly a few hours before you returned to Erik!Rememberthemaskedball!"

"Yes;anddoyourememberthosehourswhichIpassedwithyou,Raoul...tothegreatdangerofbothofus?"

"Idoubtedyourloveforme,duringthosehours."

"Doyoudoubt it still,Raoul? ...Thenknow that eachofmyvisits toErikincreasedmyhorrorofhim;foreachofthosevisits,insteadofcalminghim,asIhoped,madehimmadwithlove!AndIamsofrightened,sofrightened!..."

"Youarefrightened...butdoyouloveme?IfErikweregood-looking,wouldyouloveme,Christine?"

Sheroseinherturn,puthertwotremblingarmsroundtheyoungman'sneckandsaid:

"Oh,mybetrothedofaday, ifIdidnot loveyou,Iwouldnotgiveyoumylips!Takethem,forthefirsttimeandthelast."

Hekissedherlips;butthenightthatsurroundedthemwasrentasunder,theyfled as at the approach of a storm and their eyes, filled with dread of Erik,showedthem,beforetheydisappeared,highupabovethem,animmensenight-birdthatstaredatthemwithitsblazingeyesandseemedtoclingtothestringofApollo'slyre.

ChapterXIIIAMaster-StrokeoftheTrap-DoorLover

RaoulandChristineran,eagertoescapefromtheroofandtheblazingeyesthat showed only in the dark; and they did not stop before they came to theeighthflooronthewaydown.

There was no performance at the Opera that night and the passages wereempty.Suddenly,aqueer-lookingformstoodbeforethemandblockedtheroad:

"No,notthisway!"

And the form pointed to another passage bywhich theywere to reach thewings.Raoulwanted to stop and ask for an explanation.But the form,whichworeasortoflongfrock-coatandapointedcap,said:

"Quick!Goawayquickly!"

ChristinewasalreadydraggingRaoul,compellinghimtostartrunningagain.

"Butwhoishe?Whoisthatman?"heasked.

Christinereplied:"It'sthePersian."

"What'shedoinghere?"

"Nobodyknows.HeisalwaysintheOpera."

"Youaremakingmerunaway,forthefirsttimeinmylife.IfwereallysawErik,whatIoughttohavedonewastonailhimtoApollo'slyre,justaswenailtheowlstothewallsofourBretonfarms;andtherewouldhavebeennomorequestionofhim."

"MydearRaoul,youwouldfirsthavehadtoclimbuptoApollo'slyre:thatisnoeasymatter."

"Theblazingeyeswerethere!"

"Oh,youaregetting likemenow,seeinghimeverywhere!What I took forblazing eyeswas probably a couple of stars shining through the strings of thelyre."

AndChristinewentdownanotherfloor,withRaoulfollowingher.

"Asyouhavequitemadeupyourmindtogo,Christine,Iassureyouitwouldbe better to go at once.Whywait for to-morrow?Hemay have heard us to-night."

"No, no, he is working, I tell you, at his Don Juan Triumphant and notthinkingofus."

"You'resosureofthatyoukeeponlookingbehindyou!"

"Cometomydressing-room."

"Hadn'twebettermeetoutsidetheOpera?"

"Never,tillwegoawayforgood!Itwouldbringusbadluck,ifIdidnotkeepmyword.Ipromisedhimtoseeyouonlyhere."

"It'sagoodthingformethatheallowedyoueventhat.Doyouknow,"saidRaoulbitterly,"thatitwasverypluckyofyoutoletusplayatbeingengaged?"

"Why,mydear,heknowsallaboutit!Hesaid,'Itrustyou,Christine.M.deChagnyisinlovewithyouandisgoingabroad.Beforehegoes,IwanthimtobeashappyasIam.'Arepeoplesounhappywhentheylove?"

"Yes,Christine,whentheyloveandarenotsureofbeingloved."

TheycametoChristine'sdressing-room.

"Whydoyouthinkthatyouaresaferinthisroomthanonthestage?"askedRaoul. "Youheardhim through thewallshere, thereforehe can certainlyhearus."

"No.Hegavemehiswordnot tobebehind thewallsofmydressing-roomagainandIbelieveErik'sword.Thisroomandmybedroomonthelakeareforme,exclusively,andnottobeapproachedbyhim."

"Howcanyouhavegone from this room into thatdarkpassage,Christine?Supposewetrytorepeatyourmovements;shallwe?"

"Itisdangerous,dear,fortheglassmightcarrymeoffagain;and,insteadofrunningaway,IshouldbeobligedtogototheendofthesecretpassagetothelakeandtherecallErik."

"Wouldhehearyou?"

"ErikwillhearmewhereverIcallhim.Hetoldmeso.Heisaverycuriousgenius.Youmustnotthink,Raoul,thatheissimplyamanwhoamuseshimselfby living underground.He does things that no otherman could do; he knowsthingswhichnobodyintheworldknows."

"Takecare,Christine,youaremakingaghostofhimagain!"

"No,heisnotaghost;heisamanofHeavenandearth,thatisall."

"AmanofHeavenandearth...thatisall!...Anicewaytospeakofhim!...Andareyoustillresolvedtorunawayfromhim?"

"Yes,to-morrow."

"To-morrow,youwillhavenoresolveleft!"

"Then, Raoul, you must run away with me in spite of myself; is thatunderstood?"

"Ishallbehereattwelveto-morrownight;Ishallkeepmypromise,whateverhappens.Yousaythat,afterlisteningtotheperformance,heistowaitforyouinthedining-roomonthelake?"

"Yes."

"And how are you to reach him, if you don't know how to go out by theglass?"

"Why,bygoingstraighttotheedgeofthelake."

Christineopenedabox,tookoutanenormouskeyandshowedittoRaoul.

"What'sthat?"heasked.

"ThekeyofthegatetotheundergroundpassageintheRueScribe."

"Iunderstand,Christine.Itleadsstraighttothelake.Giveittome,Christine,willyou?"

"Never!"shesaid."Thatwouldbetreacherous!"

SuddenlyChristinechangedcolor.Amortalpalloroverspreadherfeatures.

"Ohheavens!"shecried."Erik!Erik!Havepityonme!"

"Holdyourtongue!"saidRaoul."Youtoldmehecouldhearyou!"

Butthesinger'sattitudebecamemoreandmoreinexplicable.Shewrungherfingers,repeating,withadistraughtair:

"Oh,Heaven!Oh,Heaven!"

"Butwhatisit?Whatisit?"Raoulimplored.

"Thering...thegoldringhegaveme."

"Oh,soErikgaveyouthatring!"

"Youknowhedid,Raoul!Butwhatyoudon'tknowisthat,whenhegaveittome,hesaid,'Igiveyoubackyourliberty,Christine,onconditionthatthisringisalwaysonyourfinger.Aslongasyoukeepit,youwillbeprotectedagainstalldangerandErikwillremainyourfriend.Butwoetoyouifyoueverpartwithit,forErikwillhavehisrevenge!'...Mydear,mydear,theringisgone!...Woetousboth!"

Theyboth lookedfor thering,butcouldnotfind it.Christinerefused tobepacified.

"ItwaswhileIgaveyouthatkiss,upabove,underApollo'slyre,"shesaid."Theringmusthaveslippedfrommyfingeranddroppedintothestreet!Wecanneverfindit.Andwhatmisfortunesareinstoreforusnow!Oh,torunaway!"

"Letusrunawayatonce,"Raoulinsisted,oncemore.

She hesitated.He thought that shewas going to say yes... Then her brightpupilsbecamedimmedandshesaid:

"No!To-morrow!"

Andshelefthimhurriedly,stillwringingandrubbingherfingers,asthoughshehopedtobringtheringbacklikethat.

Raoulwenthome,greatlyperturbedatallthathehadheard.

[Illustration:TheySatLikethatforaMomentinSilence]

"IfIdon'tsaveherfromthehandsofthathumbug,"hesaid,aloud,ashewenttobed,"sheislost.ButIshallsaveher."

HeputouthislampandfeltaneedtoinsultErikinthedark.Thriceover,heshouted:

"Humbug!...Humbug!...Humbug!"

But,suddenly,heraisedhimselfonhiselbow.Acoldsweatpouredfromhistemples.Twoeyes,likeblazingcoals,hadappearedatthefootofhisbed.Theystaredathimfixedly,terribly,inthedarknessofthenight.

Raoulwasnocoward;andyethetrembled.Heputoutagroping,hesitatinghandtoward the tablebyhisbedside.Hefoundthematchesand lithiscandle.Theeyesdisappeared.

Stilluneasyinhismind,hethoughttohimself:

"She told me that HIS eyes only showed in the dark. His eyes havedisappearedinthelight,butHEmaybetherestill."

Andherose,huntedabout,wentroundtheroom.Helookedunderhisbed,likeachild.Thenhethoughthimselfabsurd,gotintobedagainandblewoutthecandle.Theeyesreappeared.

Hesatupandstaredbackatthemwithallthecouragehepossessed.Thenhecried:

"Isthatyou,Erik?Man,genius,orghost,isityou?"

Hereflected:"Ifit'she,he'sonthebalcony!"

Thenherantothechestofdrawersandgropedforhisrevolver.Heopenedthebalconywindow,lookedout,sawnothingandclosedthewindowagain.Hewentbacktobed,shivering,forthenightwascold,andputtherevolveronthetablewithinhisreach.

Theeyeswerestill there,at thefootofthebed.Weretheybetweenthebedandthewindow-paneorbehindthepane,thatistosay,onthebalcony?ThatwaswhatRaoulwantedtoknow.Healsowantedtoknowifthoseeyesbelongedtoahumanbeing...Hewantedtoknoweverything.Then,patiently,calmly,heseizedhisrevolverandtookaim.Heaimedalittleabovethetwoeyes.Surely,iftheywereeyesandifabovethosetwoeyestherewasaforeheadandifRaoulwasnottooclumsy...

Theshotmadeaterribledinamidthesilenceoftheslumberinghouse.And,whilefootstepscamehurryingalongthepassages,Raoulsatupwithoutstretchedarm,readytofireagain,ifneedbe.

Thistime,thetwoeyeshaddisappeared.

Servantsappeared,carryinglights;CountPhilippe,terriblyanxious:

"Whatisit?"

"IthinkIhavebeendreaming,"repliedtheyoungman."Ifiredat twostarsthatkeptmefromsleeping."

"You'reraving!Areyouill?ForGod'ssake,tellme,Raoul:whathappened?"

Andthecountseizedholdoftherevolver.

"No,no,I'mnotraving...Besides,weshallsoonsee..."

Hegotoutofbed,putonadressing-gownandslippers,tookalightfromthehandsofaservantand,openingthewindow,steppedoutonthebalcony.

The count saw that the window had been pierced by a bullet at a man'sheight. Raoul was leaning over the balcony with his candle: "Aha!" he said."Blood! ...Blood! ...Here, there,moreblood! ...That's agood thing!Aghostwhobleedsislessdangerous!"hegrinned.

"Raoul!Raoul!Raoul!"

The count was shaking him as though he were trying to waken a sleep-walker.

"But,mydearbrother,I'mnotasleep!"Raoulprotestedimpatiently."Youcanseethebloodforyourself.IthoughtIhadbeendreamingandfiringattwostars.ItwasErik'seyes...andhereishisblood!...Afterall,perhapsIwaswrongtoshoot;andChristineisquitecapableofneverforgivingme...AllthiswouldnothavehappenedifIhaddrawnthecurtainsbeforegoingtobed."

"Raoul,haveyousuddenlygonemad?Wakeup!"

"What,still?YouwoulddobettertohelpmefindErik...for,afterall,aghostwhobleedscanalwaysbefound."

Thecount'svaletsaid:

"Thatisso,sir;thereisbloodonthebalcony."

Theotherman-servantbroughtalamp,bythelightofwhichtheyexaminedthebalconycarefully.Themarksofblood followed the rail till they reachedagutter-spout;thentheywentupthegutter-spout.

"Mydearfellow,"saidCountPhilippe,"youhavefiredatacat."

"Themisfortune is," saidRaoul,with a grin, "that it's quite possible.WithErik,youneverknow.IsitErik?Isitthecat?Isittheghost?No,withErik,youcan'ttell!"

Raoulwent onmaking this strange sort of remarkswhich corresponded sointimately and logicallywith the preoccupation of his brain andwhich, at thesame time, tended to persuademany people that hismindwas unhinged. Thecounthimselfwasseizedwiththisidea;and,later,theexaminingmagistrate,onreceivingthereportofthecommissaryofpolice,cametothesameconclusion.

"WhoisErik?"askedthecount,pressinghisbrother'shand.

"Heismyrival.And,ifhe'snotdead,it'sapity."

HedismissedtheservantswithawaveofthehandandthetwoChagnyswereleft alone.But themenwere not out of earshot before the count's valet heardRaoulsay,distinctlyandemphatically:

"IshallcarryoffChristineDaaeto-night."

This phrasewas afterward repeated toM.Faure, the examining-magistrate.But no one ever knew exactly what passed between the two brothers at thisinterview.Theservantsdeclaredthatthiswasnottheirfirstquarrel.Theirvoicespenetratedthewall;anditwasalwaysanactresscalledChristineDaaethatwasinquestion.

Atbreakfast—theearlymorningbreakfast,whichthecounttookinhisstudy—Philippesentforhisbrother.Raoularrivedsilentandgloomy.Thescenewasaveryshortone.PhilippehandedhisbrotheracopyoftheEpoqueandsaid:

"Readthat!"

Theviscountread:

"The latest news in the Faubourg is that there is a promise of marriagebetweenMlle. Christine Daae, the opera-singer, andM. le Vicomte Raoul deChagny.Ifthegossipsaretobecredited,CountPhilippehasswornthat,forthefirsttimeonrecord,theChagnysshallnotkeeptheirpromise.But,asloveisall-powerful, at the Opera as—and evenmore than—elsewhere, we wonder howCountPhilippeintendstopreventtheviscount,hisbrother,fromleadingthenewMargarita to the altar. The two brothers are said to adore each other; but thecountiscuriouslymistakenifheimaginesthatbrotherlylovewilltriumphoverlovepureandsimple."

"Yousee,Raoul,"said thecount, "youaremakingus ridiculous!That littlegirlhasturnedyourheadwithherghost-stories."

The viscount had evidently repeated Christine's narrative to his brother,duringthenight.Allthathenowsaidwas:

"Good-by,Philippe."

"Haveyouquitemadeupyourmind?Youaregoingto-night?Withher?"

Noreply.

"Surelyyouwillnotdoanythingsofoolish?ISHALLknowhowtopreventyou!"

"Good-by,Philippe,"saidtheviscountagainandlefttheroom.

Thisscenewasdescribedtotheexamining-magistratebythecounthimself,who did not see Raoul again until that evening, at the Opera, a fewminutesbeforeChristine'sdisappearance.

Raoul, infact,devoted thewholeday tohispreparationsfor theflight.Thehorses, the carriage, the coachman, the provisions, the luggage, the moneyrequiredforthejourney,theroadtobetaken(hehadresolvednottogobytrain,soastothrowtheghostoffthescent):allthishadtobesettledandprovidedfor;anditoccupiedhimuntilnineo'clockatnight.

Atnineo'clock,asortoftraveling-barouchewiththecurtainsofitswindowsclose-down,tookitsplaceintherankontheRotundaside.Itwasdrawnbytwopowerfulhorsesdrivenbyacoachmanwhosefacewasalmostconcealedinthelongfoldsofamuffler.Infrontofthistraveling-carriagewerethreebroughams,belongingrespectivelytoCarlotta,whohadsuddenlyreturnedtoParis,toSorelliand, at the head of the rank, to Comte Philippe de Chagny. No one left thebarouche. The coachman remained on his box, and the three other coachmenremainedontheirs.

A shadow in a long black cloak and a soft black felt hat passed along thepavement between the Rotunda and the carriages, examined the barouchecarefully,wentuptothehorsesandthecoachmanandthenmovedawaywithoutsayingaword,Themagistrateafterwardbelieved that this shadowwas thatoftheVicomteRaouldeChagny;but Idonotagree, seeing that thatevening,asevery evening, the Vicomte de Chagny was wearing a tall hat, which hat,besides,was subsequently found. I ammore inclined to think that the shadowwas that of the ghost,whoknew all about thewhole affair, as the readerwillsoonperceive.

They were giving FAUST, as it happened, before a splendid house. TheFaubourg was magnificently represented; and the paragraph in that morning'sEPOQUEhadalreadyproduceditseffect,foralleyeswereturnedtotheboxinwhich Count Philippe sat alone, apparently in a very indifferent and careless

frameofmind.Thefeminineelementinthebrilliantaudienceseemedcuriouslypuzzled; and the viscount's absence gave rise to any amount of whisperingbehind the fans.ChristineDaaemetwith a rather cold reception.That specialaudiencecouldnotforgiveherforaimingsohigh.

Thesingernoticedthisunfavorableattitudeofaportionofthehouseandwasconfusedbyit.

TheregularfrequentersoftheOpera,whopretendedtoknowthetruthaboutthe viscount's love-story, exchanged significant smiles at certain passages inMargarita's part; and theymade a show of turning and looking at Philippe deChagny'sboxwhenChristinesang:

"IwishIcouldbutknowwhowasheThataddressedme,Ifhewasnoble,or,atleast,whathisnameis."

Thecount satwithhis chinonhis hand and seemed topayno attention tothese manifestations. He kept his eyes fixed on the stage; but his thoughtsappearedtobefaraway.

Christine lost her self-assurancemore andmore. She trembled. She felt onthevergeofabreakdown...CarolusFontawonderedifshewasill,ifshecouldkeepthestageuntiltheendoftheGardenAct.Inthefrontofthehouse,peoplerememberedthecatastrophethathadbefallenCarlottaattheendofthatactandthehistoric"co-ack"whichhadmomentarilyinterruptedhercareerinParis.

Justthen,Carlottamadeherentranceinaboxfacingthestage,asensationalentrance.PoorChristine raisedher eyesupon this fresh subject of excitement.She recognizedher rival.She thought she sawa sneeronher lips.That savedher.Sheforgoteverything,inordertotriumphoncemore.

Fromthatmomenttheprimadonnasangwithallherheartandsoul.Shetriedtosurpassallthatshehaddonetillthen;andshesucceeded.Inthelastactwhenshebegantheinvocationtotheangels,shemadeallthemembersoftheaudiencefeelasthoughtheytoohadwings.

In the center of the amphitheater a man stood up and remained standing,facingthesinger.ItwasRaoul.

"Holyangel,inHeavenblessed..."

AndChristine,herarmsoutstretched,herthroatfilledwithmusic, thegloryofherhairfallingoverherbareshoulders,utteredthedivinecry:

"Myspiritlongswiththeetorest!"

Itwas at thatmoment that the stagewas suddenly plunged in darkness. Ithappened so quickly that the spectators hardly had time to utter a sound ofstupefaction,forthegasatoncelitupthestageagain.ButChristineDaaewasnolongerthere!

What had become of her?What was that miracle? All exchanged glanceswithoutunderstanding,and theexcitementatonce reached itsheight.Norwasthetensionanylessgreatonthestageitself.MenrushedfromthewingstothespotwhereChristinehadbeen singing that very instant.Theperformancewasinterruptedamidthegreatestdisorder.

WherehadChristinegone?Whatwitchcraft had snatchedher, awaybeforethe eyes of thousands of enthusiastic onlookers and from the arms ofCarolusFontahimself?Itwasasthoughtheangelshadreallycarriedherup"torest."

Raoul,stillstandingupintheamphitheater,hadutteredacry.CountPhilippehad sprung to his feet in his box. People looked at the stage, at the count, atRaoul, andwondered if this curious eventwas connected in anywaywith theparagraph in thatmorning's paper.ButRaoul hurriedly left his seat, the countdisappeared from his box and, while the curtainwas lowered, the subscribersrushed to thedoor that ledbehind the scenes.The rest of the audiencewaitedamid an indescribable hubbub. Every one spoke at once. Every one tried tosuggestanexplanationoftheextraordinaryincident.

Atlast,thecurtainroseslowlyandCarolusFontasteppedtotheconductor'sdeskand,inasadandseriousvoice,said:

"Ladiesandgentlemen,anunprecedentedeventhas takenplaceandthrownus into a state of the greatest alarm. Our sister-artist, Christine Daae, hasdisappearedbeforeoureyesandnobodycantellushow!"

ChapterXIVTheSingularAttitudeofaSafety-Pin

Behindthecurtain,therewasanindescribablecrowd.Artists,scene-shifters,dancers, supers, choristers, subscriberswereall askingquestions, shoutingandhustlingoneanother.

"Whatbecameofher?"

"She'srunaway."

"WiththeVicomtedeChagny,ofcourse!"

"No,withthecount!"

"Ah,here'sCarlotta!Carlottadidthetrick!"

"No, it was the ghost!" And a few laughed, especially as a carefulexaminationofthetrap-doorsandboardshadputtheideaofanaccidentoutofthequestion.

Amid this noisy throng, three men stood talking in a low voice and withdespairinggestures.TheywereGabriel, thechorus-master;Mercier,theacting-manager;andRemy,thesecretary.Theyretiredtoacornerofthelobbybywhichthestagecommunicateswiththewidepassageleadingtothefoyeroftheballet.Heretheystoodandarguedbehindsomeenormous"properties."

"Iknockedatthedoor,"saidRemy."Theydidnotanswer.Perhapstheyarenotintheoffice.Inanycase,it'simpossibletofindout,fortheytookthekeyswiththem."

"They"wereobviouslythemanagers,whohadgivenorders,duringthelastentr'acte,thattheywerenottobedisturbedonanypretextwhatever.Theywerenotintoanybody.

"All the same," exclaimedGabriel, "a singer isn't run awaywith, from themiddleofthestage,everyday!"

"Didyoushoutthattothem?"askedMercier,impatiently.

"I'llgobackagain,"saidRemy,anddisappearedatarun.

Thereuponthestage-managerarrived.

"Well,M.Mercier, are you coming?What are you two doing here?You'rewanted,Mr.Acting-Manager."

"Irefusetoknowortodoanythingbeforethecommissaryarrives,"declaredMercier."IhavesentforMifroid.Weshallseewhenhecomes!"

"AndItellyouthatyououghttogodowntotheorganatonce."

"Notbeforethecommissarycomes."

"I'vebeendowntotheorganmyselfalready."

"Ah!Andwhatdidyousee?"

"Well,Isawnobody!Doyouhear—nobody!"

"Whatdoyouwantmetododowntherefor{sic}?"

"You'reright!"saidthestage-manager,franticallypushinghishandsthroughhisrebellioushair."You'reright!Buttheremightbesomeoneattheorganwhocould tell us how the stage came to be suddenly darkened. NowMauclair isnowheretobefound.Doyouunderstandthat?"

Mauclairwasthegas-man,whodispenseddayandnightatwillonthestageoftheOpera.

"Mauclair is not to be found!" repeatedMercier, taken aback. "Well, whatabouthisassistants?"

"There'snoMauclairandnoassistants!Nooneatthelights,Itellyou!Youcan imagine," roared the stage-manager, "that that little girl must have beencarriedoffbysomebodyelse:shedidn'trunawaybyherself!Itwasacalculatedstrokeandwehavetofindoutaboutit...Andwhatarethemanagersdoingallthistime?...IgaveordersthatnoonewastogodowntothelightsandIpostedafiremaninfrontofthegas-man'sboxbesidetheorgan.Wasn'tthatright?"

"Yes,yes,quiteright,quiteright.Andnowlet'swaitforthecommissary."

Thestage-managerwalkedaway,shrugginghisshoulders,fuming,mutteringinsults at thosemilksopswho remainedquietly squatting inacornerwhile thewholetheaterwastopsyturvy{sic}.

GabrielandMercierwerenotsoquietasallthat.Onlytheyhadreceivedanorder that paralyzed them. The managers were not to be disturbed on anyaccount.Remyhadviolatedthatorderandmetwithnosuccess.

At thatmoment he returned from his new expedition, wearing a curiouslystartledair.

"Well,haveyouseenthem?"askedMercier.

"Moncharminopenedthedooratlast.Hiseyeswerestartingoutofhishead.Ithoughthemeanttostrikeme.Icouldnotgetawordin;andwhatdoyouthinkheshoutedatme?'Haveyouasafety-pin?''No!''Well,then,clearout!'Itriedtotellhim thatanunheard-of thinghadhappenedon the stage,buthe roared, 'Asafety-pin!Givemeasafety-pinatonce!'Aboyheardhim—hewasbellowinglikeabull—ranupwithasafety-pinandgaveittohim;whereuponMoncharminslammedthedoorinmyface,andthereyouare!"

"Andcouldn'tyouhavesaid,'ChristineDaae.'"

"Ishouldliketohaveseenyouinmyplace.Hewasfoamingat themouth.He thoughtofnothingbuthis safety-pin. I believe, if theyhadn't broughthimoneonthespot,hewouldhavefallendowninafit!...Oh,allthisisn'tnatural;andourmanagersaregoingmad!...Besides,itcan'tgoonlikethis!I'mnotusedtobeingtreatedinthatfashion!"

SuddenlyGabrielwhispered:

"It'sanothertrickofO.G.'s."

Rimygaveagrin,Mercierasighandseemedabouttospeak...but,meetingGabriel'seye,saidnothing.

However, Mercier felt his responsibility increased as the minutes passedwithoutthemanagers'appearing;and,atlast,hecouldstanditnolonger.

"Lookhere,I'llgoandhuntthemoutmyself!"

Gabriel,turningverygloomyandserious,stoppedhim.

"Becarefulwhatyou'redoing,Mercier!Ifthey'restayingintheiroffice,it'sprobablybecausetheyhaveto!O.G.hasmorethanonetrickinhisbag!"

ButMerciershookhishead.

"That's their lookout! I'm going! If people had listened to me, the policewouldhaveknowneverythinglongago!"

Andhewent.

"What'severything?"askedRemy."Whatwas there to tell thepolice?Whydon'tyouanswer,Gabriel?...Ah,soyouknowsomething!Well,youwoulddobetter to tellme, too, ifyoudon'twantme to shoutout thatyouareallgoingmad!...Yes,that'swhatyouare:mad!"

Gabriel put on a stupid look and pretended not to understand the privatesecretary'sunseemlyoutburst.

"What'something'amIsupposedtoknow?"hesaid."Idon'tknowwhatyoumean."

Remybegantolosehistemper.

"This evening,Richard andMoncharminwerebehaving like lunatics, here,betweentheacts."

"Inevernoticedit,"growledGabriel,verymuchannoyed.

"Thenyou'retheonlyone!...DoyouthinkthatIdidn'tseethem?...AndthatM.Parabise,themanageroftheCreditCentral,noticednothing?...AndthatM.de La Borderie, the ambassador, has no eyes to see with? ... Why, all thesubscriberswerepointingatourmanagers!"

"But what were our managers doing?" asked Gabriel, putting on his mostinnocentair.

"Whatweretheydoing?Youknowbetterthananyonewhattheyweredoing!...Youwere there! ...Andyouwerewatching them,youandMercier! ...And

youweretheonlytwowhodidn'tlaugh."

"Idon'tunderstand!"

Gabriel raisedhisarmsanddropped them tohis sidesagain,whichgesturewasmeant to convey that thequestiondidnot interest him in the least.Remycontinued:

"Whatisthesenseofthisnewmaniaoftheirs?WHYWON'TTHEYHAVEANYONECOMENEARTHEMNOW?"

"What?WON'TTHEYHAVEANYONECOMENEARTHEM?"

"ANDTHEYWON'TLETANYONETOUCHTHEM!"

"Really?HaveyounoticedTHATTHEYWON'TLETANYONETOUCHTHEM?Thatiscertainlyodd!"

"Oh, so you admit it! And high time, too! And THEN, THEY WALKBACKWARD!"

"BACKWARD!YouhaveseenourmanagersWALKBACKWARD?Why,Ithoughtthatonlycrabswalkedbackward!"

"Don'tlaugh,Gabriel;don'tlaugh!"

"I'mnotlaughing,"protestedGabriel,lookingassolemnasajudge.

"Perhaps you can tell me this, Gabriel, as you're an intimate friend of themanagement: When I went up to M. Richard, outside the foyer, during theGarden interval, with my hand out before me, why did M. Moncharminhurriedlywhispertome,'Goaway!Goaway!Whateveryoudo,don'ttouchM.leDirecteur!'AmIsupposedtohaveaninfectiousdisease?"

"It'sincredible!"

"And,alittlelater,whenM.deLaBorderiewentuptoM.Richard,didn'tyousee M. Moncharmin fling himself between them and hear him exclaim, 'M.l'AmbassadeurIentreatyounottotouchM.leDirecteur'?"

"It'sterrible!...AndwhatwasRicharddoingmeanwhile?"

"What was he doing? Why, you saw him! He turned about, BOWED INFRONTOF HIM, THOUGH THEREWASNOBODY IN FRONTOF HIM,ANDWITHDREWBACKWARD."

"BACKWARD?"

"AndMoncharmin,behindRichard,alsoturnedabout;thatis,hedescribedasemicirclebehindRichardandalsoWALKEDBACKWARD!...AndtheywentLIKE THAT to the staircase leading to the managers' office: BACKWARD,BACKWARD, BACKWARD! ... Well, if they are not mad, will you explainwhatitmeans?"

"Perhaps they were practising a figure in the ballet," suggested Gabriel,withoutmuchconvictioninhisvoice.

The secretary was furious at this wretched joke, made at so dramatic amoment.He knit his brows and contracted his lips. Then he put hismouth toGabriel'sear:

"Don't be so sly, Gabriel. There are things going on for which you andMercierarepartlyresponsible."

"Whatdoyoumean?"askedGabriel.

"ChristineDaaeisnottheonlyonewhosuddenlydisappearedto-night."

"Oh,nonsense!"

"There's no nonsense about it. Perhaps you can tellmewhy,whenMotherGirycamedowntothefoyerjustnow,Merciertookherbythehandandhurriedherawaywithhim?"

"Really?"saidGabriel,"Ineversawit."

"You did see it, Gabriel, for you went with Mercier and Mother Giry toMercier's office. Since then, you andMercier have been seen, but no one hasseenMotherGiry."

"Doyouthinkwe'veeatenher?"

"No,butyou've lockedherup in theoffice;andanyonepassing theofficecanhearheryelling,'Oh,thescoundrels!Oh,thescoundrels!'"

Atthispointofthissingularconversation,Mercierarrived,alloutofbreath.

"There!"hesaid,inagloomyvoice."It'sworsethanever!...Ishouted,'It'saserious matter! Open the door! It's I, Mercier.' I heard footsteps. The dooropened andMoncharmin appeared. Hewas very pale. He said, 'What do youwant?'Ianswered, 'SomeonehasrunawaywithChristineDaae.'Whatdoyouthinkhesaid? 'Andagoodjob,too!'Andheshutthedoor,afterputtingthisinmyhand."

Mercieropenedhishand;RemyandGabriellooked.

"Thesafety-pin!"criedRemy.

"Strange!Strange!"mutteredGabriel,whocouldnothelpshivering.

Suddenlyavoicemadethemallthreeturnround.

"Ibegyourpardon,gentlemen.CouldyoutellmewhereChristineDaaeis?"

Inspiteoftheseriousnessofthecircumstances,theabsurdityofthequestionwouldhavemadethemroarwithlaughter,iftheyhadnotcaughtsightofafaceso sorrow-stricken that theywereatonce seizedwithpity. Itwas theVicomteRaouldeChagny.

ChapterXVChristine!Christine!

Raoul's first thought, afterChristineDaae's fantastic disappearance,was toaccuseErik.HenolongerdoubtedthealmostsupernaturalpowersoftheAngelofMusic, in thisdomainof theOpera inwhichhehadsetuphisempire.AndRaoulrushedonthestage,inamadfitofloveanddespair.

"Christine!Christine!"hemoaned,callingtoherashefelt thatshemustbecallingtohimfromthedepthsofthatdarkpittowhichthemonsterhadcarriedher."Christine!Christine!"

And he seemed to hear the girl's screams through the frail boards thatseparatedhimfromher.Hebent forward,he listened, ...hewanderedover thestagelikeamadman.Ah,todescend,todescendintothatpitofdarknesseveryentrance towhichwasclosed tohim, ... for the stairs that ledbelow the stagewereforbiddentooneandallthatnight!

"Christine!Christine!..."

Peoplepushedhimaside,laughing.Theymadefunofhim.Theythoughtthepoorlover'sbrainwasgone!

Bywhatmadroad,throughwhatpassagesofmysteryanddarknessknowntohimalonehadErikdraggedthatpure-souledchildtotheawfulhaunt,withtheLouis-Philipperoom,openingoutonthelake?

"Christine!Christine!...Whydon'tyouanswer?...Areyoualive?..."

Hideous thoughts flashed throughRaoul's congested brain.Of course, Erikmust havediscovered their secret,must haveknown thatChristinehadplayedhimfalse.Whatavengeancewouldbehis!

AndRaoulthoughtagainoftheyellowstarsthathadcome,thenightbefore,and roamed over his balcony.Why had he not put them out for good? Therewere somemen's eyes that dilated in thedarkness and shone like starsor likecats'eyes.CertainlyAlbinos,whoseemedtohaverabbits'eyesbyday,hadcats'eyes at night: everybody knew that! ... Yes, yes, he had undoubtedly fired atErik.Whyhadhenotkilledhim?Themonsterhadfledupthegutter-spoutlikeacat or a convictwho—everybodyknew that also—would scale the very skies,withthehelpofagutter-spout...NodoubtErikwasatthattimecontemplatingsomedecisivestepagainstRaoul,buthehadbeenwoundedandhadescapedtoturnagainstpoorChristineinstead.

Such were the cruel thoughts that haunted Raoul as he ran to the singer'sdressing-room.

"Christine!Christine!"

Bittertearsscorchedtheboy'seyelidsashesawscatteredoverthefurnituretheclotheswhichhisbeautifulbridewastohavewornatthehouroftheirflight.Oh,whyhadsherefusedtoleaveearlier?

Why had she toyed with the threatening catastrophe?Why toyed with themonster'sheart?Why,inafinalaccessofpity,hadsheinsistedonflinging,asalastsoptothatdemon'ssoul,herdivinesong:

"Holyangel,inHeavenblessed,Myspiritlongswiththeetorest!"

Raoul,histhroatfilledwithsobs,oathsandinsults,fumbledawkwardlyatthegreatmirrorthathadopenedonenight,beforehiseyes,toletChristinepasstothe murky dwelling below. He pushed, pressed, groped about, but the glassapparentlyobeyednoonebutErik ...Perhaps actionswerenot enoughwith aglassofthekind?Perhapshewasexpectedtouttercertainwords?Whenhewasalittleboy,hehadheardthattherewerethingsthatobeyedthespokenword!

Suddenly,Raoul remembered something about a gate opening into theRueScribe,anundergroundpassagerunningstraighttotheRueScribefromthelake...Yes,Christinehadtoldhimaboutthat...And,whenhefoundthatthekeywasnolongerinthebox,heneverthelessrantotheRueScribe.Outside,inthestreet,hepassedhistremblinghandsoverthehugestones,feltforoutlets...metwithironbars...werethosethey?...Orthese?...Orcoulditbethatair-hole?...Heplunged his useless eyes through the bars ...How dark itwas in there! ...Helistened...Allwassilence!...Hewentroundthebuilding...andcametobiggerbars,immensegates!...ItwastheentrancetotheCourdel'Administration.

Raoulrushedintothedoorkeeper'slodge.

"Ibegyourpardon,madame,couldyoutellmewheretofindagateordoor,madeofbars,ironbars,openingintotheRueScribe...andleadingtothelake?...YouknowthelakeImean?...Yes,theundergroundlake...undertheOpera."

"Yes,sir,IknowthereisalakeundertheOpera,butIdon'tknowwhichdoor

leadstoit.Ihaveneverbeenthere!"

"AndtheRueScribe,madame,theRueScribe?HaveyouneverbeentotheRueScribe?"

The woman laughed, screamed with laughter! Raoul darted away, roaringwithanger, ranup-stairs, four stairs at a time,down-stairs, rushed through thewholeof thebusinesssideof theopera-house, foundhimselfoncemore in thelightofthestage.

Hestopped,withhisheartthumpinginhischest:supposeChristineDaaehadbeenfound?Hesawagroupofmenandasked:

"Ibegyourpardon,gentlemen.CouldyoutellmewhereChristineDaaeis?"

Andsomebodylaughed.

Atthesamemomentthestagebuzzedwithanewsoundand,amidacrowdofmeninevening-dress,alltalkingandgesticulatingtogether,appearedamanwhoseemedverycalmanddisplayedapleasant face,allpinkandchubby-cheeked,crownedwith curly hair and lit up by a pair ofwonderfully serene blue eyes.Mercier, the acting-manager, called theVicomte deChagny's attention to himandsaid:

"Thisisthegentlemantowhomyoushouldputyourquestion,monsieur.LetmeintroduceMifroid,thecommissaryofpolice."

"Ah,M.leVicomtedeChagny!Delightedtomeetyou,monsieur,"said thecommissary. "Would you mind coming with me? ... And now where are themanagers?...Wherearethemanagers?"

Mercierdidnotanswer,andRemy,thesecretary,volunteeredtheinformationthatthemanagerswerelockedupintheirofficeandthattheyknewnothingasyetofwhathadhappened.

"Youdon'tmeantosayso!Letusgouptotheoffice!"

AndM.Mifroid, followed by an ever-increasing crowd, turned toward thebusinesssideofthebuilding.MerciertookadvantageoftheconfusiontoslipakeyintoGabriel'shand:

"Thisisallgoingverybadly,"hewhispered."YouhadbetterletMotherGiryout."

AndGabrielmovedaway.

They soon came to themanagers' door.Mercier stormed in vain: the doorremainedclosed.

"Openinthenameofthelaw!"commandedM.Mifroid,inaloudandratheranxiousvoice.

Atlastthedoorwasopened.Allrushedintotheoffice,onthecommissary'sheels.

Raoulwasthelasttoenter.Ashewasabouttofollowtherestintotheroom,ahandwaslaidonhisshoulderandheheardthesewordsspokeninhisear:

"ERIK'SSECRETSCONCERNNOONEBUTHIMSELF!"

Heturnedaround,withastifledexclamation.Thehandthatwaslaidonhisshoulderwasnowplacedonthelipsofapersonwithanebonyskin,witheyesofjadeandwithanastrakhancaponhishead:thePersian!Thestrangerkeptupthegesture that recommended discretion and then, at the moment when theastonishedviscountwasabouttoaskthereasonofhismysteriousintervention,bowedanddisappeared.

ChapterXVIMme.Giry'sAstoundingRevelationsastoHerPersonalRelationswiththeOperaGhost

Before following the commissary into themanager's office Imust describecertainextraordinaryoccurrencesthattookplaceinthatofficewhichRemyandMercierhadvainlytriedtoenterandintowhichMM.RichardandMoncharminhad locked themselveswithanobjectwhich the readerdoesnotyetknow,butwhichitismyduty,asanhistorian,torevealwithoutfurtherpostponement.

I have had occasion to say that the managers' mood had undergone a

disagreeablechangeforsometimepastandtoconveythefact that thischangewasduenot only to the fall of the chandelier on the famousnight of thegalaperformance.

The readermustknow that theghosthadcalmlybeenpaidhis first twentythousandfrancs.Oh,therehadbeenwailingandgnashingofteeth,indeed!Andyetthethinghadhappenedassimplyascouldbe.

Onemorning, themanagers found on their table an envelope addressed to"MonsieurO.G.(private)"andaccompaniedbyanotefromO.G.himself:

Thetimehascometocarryouttheclauseinthememorandum-book.Pleaseputtwentynotesofathousandfrancseachintothisenvelope,sealitwithyourownsealandhandittoMme.Giry,whowilldowhatisnecessary.

The managers did not hesitate; without wasting time in asking how theseconfoundedcommunicationscametobedeliveredinanofficewhichtheywerecareful to keep locked, they seized this opportunity of laying hands, on themysteriousblackmailer.And,aftertellingthewholestory,underthepromiseofsecrecy, to Gabriel andMercier, they put the twenty thousand francs into theenvelopeandwithoutaskingforexplanations,handedittoMme.Giry,whohadbeen reinstated in her functions. The box-keeper displayed no astonishment. Ineedhardlysaythatshewaswellwatched.Shewentstraighttotheghost'sboxandplaced the precious envelopeon the little shelf attached to the ledge.Thetwomanagers,aswellasGabrielandMercier,werehiddeninsuchawaythattheydidnotlosesightoftheenvelopeforasecondduringtheperformanceandevenafterward,for,astheenvelopehadnotmoved,thosewhowatcheditdidnotmove either; and Mme. Giry went away while the managers, Gabriel andMercierwere still there.At last, they became tired ofwaiting and opened theenvelope,afterascertainingthatthesealshadnotbeenbroken.

Atfirstsight,RichardandMoncharminthoughtthatthenoteswerestillthere;butsoontheyperceivedthattheywerenotthesame.Thetwentyrealnotesweregoneandhadbeenreplacedbytwentynotes,ofthe"BankofSt.Farce"![1]

The managers' rage and fright were unmistakable. Moncharmin wanted tosendforthecommissaryofpolice,butRichardobjected.Henodoubthadaplan,forhesaid:

"Don't letusmakeourselves ridiculous!AllPariswould laughatus.O.G.

haswonthefirstgame:wewillwinthesecond."

Hewasthinkingofthenextmonth'sallowance.

Nevertheless, they had been so absolutely tricked that theywere bound tosufferacertaindejection.And,uponmyword,itwasnotdifficulttounderstand.Wemustnotforgetthatthemanagershadanideaatthebackoftheirminds,allthetime,thatthisstrangeincidentmightbeanunpleasantpracticaljokeonthepartoftheirpredecessorsandthatitwouldnotdotodivulgeitprematurely.Onthe other hand, Moncharmin was sometimes troubled with a suspicion ofRichard himself,who occasionally took fancifulwhims into his head.And sotheywerecontenttoawaitevents,whilekeepinganeyeonMotherGiry.Richardwouldnothaveherspokento.

"If she isaconfederate,"he said, "thenotesaregone longago.But, inmyopinion,sheismerelyanidiot."

"She'snottheonlyidiotinthisbusiness,"saidMoncharminpensively.

"Well,whocouldhavethoughtit?"moanedRichard."Butdon'tbeafraid...nexttime,Ishallhavetakenmyprecautions."

ThenexttimefellonthesamedaythatbeheldthedisappearanceofChristineDaae.Inthemorning,anotefromtheghostremindedthemthatthemoneywasdue.Itread:

Dojustasyoudidlasttime.Itwentverywell.PutthetwentythousandintheenvelopeandhandittoourexcellentMme.Giry.

And the note was accompanied by the usual envelope. They had only toinsertthenotes.

Thiswasdoneabouthalfanhourbefore thecurtain roseon the firstactofFaust. Richard showed the envelope to Moncharmin. Then he counted thetwentythousand-francnotesinfrontofhimandputthenotesintotheenvelope,butwithoutclosingit.

"Andnow,"hesaid,"let'shaveMotherGiryin."

Theoldwomanwassentfor.Sheenteredwithasweepingcourtesy.Shestill

woreherblacktaffetadress,thecolorofwhichwasrapidlyturningtorustandlilac, tosaynothingof thedingybonnet.Sheseemedinagoodtemper.Sheatoncesaid:

"Goodevening,gentlemen!It'sfortheenvelope,Isuppose?"

"Yes, Mme. Giry," said Richard, most amiably. "For the envelope ... andsomethingelsebesides."

"At your service,M. Richard, at your service. Andwhat is the somethingelse,please?"

"Firstofall,Mme.Giry,Ihavealittlequestiontoputtoyou."

"Byallmeans,M.Richard:Mme.Giryisheretoansweryou."

"Areyoustillongoodtermswiththeghost?"

"Couldn'tbebetter,sir;couldn'tbebetter."

"Ah,wearedelighted...Lookhere,Mme.Giry,"saidRichard,inthetoneofmakinganimportantconfidence."Wemayjustaswelltellyou,amongourselves...you'renofool!"

"Why, sir," exclaimed thebox-keeper, stopping thepleasantnoddingof theblackfeathersinherdingybonnet,"Iassureyounoonehaseverdoubtedthat!"

"Wearequiteagreedandweshallsoonunderstandoneanother.Thestoryoftheghostisallhumbug,isn'tit?...Well,stillbetweenourselves,...ithaslastedlongenough."

Mme.GirylookedatthemanagersasthoughtheyweretalkingChinese.ShewalkeduptoRichard'stableandasked,ratheranxiously:

"Whatdoyoumean?Idon'tunderstand."

"Oh,you,understandquitewell.Inanycase,you'vegottounderstand...And,firstofall,tellushisname."

"Whosename?"

"Thenameofthemanwhoseaccompliceyouare,Mme.Giry!"

"Iamtheghost'saccomplice?I?...Hisaccompliceinwhat,pray?"

"Youdoallhewants."

"Oh!He'snotverytroublesome,youknow."

"Anddoeshestilltipyou?"

"Imustn'tcomplain."

"Howmuchdoeshegiveyouforbringinghimthatenvelope?"

"Tenfrancs."

"Youpoorthing!That'snotmuch,isit?

"Why?"

"I'lltellyouthatpresently,Mme.Giry.Justnowweshouldliketoknowforwhatextraordinaryreasonyouhavegivenyourselfbodyandsoul,tothisghost...Mme.Giry'sfriendshipanddevotionarenottobeboughtforfivefrancsortenfrancs."

"That'strueenough...AndIcantellyouthereason,sir.There'snodisgraceaboutit...onthecontrary."

"We'requitesureofthat,Mme.Giry!"

"Well, it's like this ... only the ghost doesn't like me to talk about hisbusiness."

"Indeed?"sneeredRichard.

"Butthis isamatter thatconcernsmyselfalone...Well, itwasinBoxFiveoneevening, I founda letteraddressed tomyself, a sortofnotewritten in redink.Ineedn'treadthelettertoyousir;Iknowitbyheart,andIshallneverforgetitifIlivetobeahundred!"

And Mme. Giry, drawing herself up, recited the letter with touching

eloquence:

MADAM:

1825.Mlle.Menetrier,leaderoftheballet,becameMarquisedeCussy.

1832.Mlle.MarieTaglioni,adancer,becameComtesseGilbertdesVoisins.

1846.LaSota,adancer,marriedabrotheroftheKingofSpain.

1847.LolaMontes,adancer,becamethemorganaticwifeofKingLouisofBavariaandwascreatedCountessofLandsfeld.

1848.Mlle.Maria,adancer,becameBaronned'Herneville.

1870.TheresaHessier,adancer,marriedDomFernando,brothertotheKingofPortugal.

RichardandMoncharminlistenedtotheoldwoman,who,assheproceededwiththeenumerationofthesegloriousnuptials,swelledout, tookcourageand,atlast,inavoiceburstingwithpride,flungoutthelastsentenceofthepropheticletter:

1885.MegGiry,Empress!

Exhaustedbythissupremeeffort,thebox-keeperfellintoachair,saying:

"Gentlemen, the letterwas signed, 'OperaGhost.' I had heardmuch of theghost, but only half believed in him. From the daywhen he declared thatmylittleMeg, the flesh ofmy flesh, the fruit ofmywomb,would be empress, Ibelievedinhimaltogether."

AndreallyitwasnotnecessarytomakealongstudyofMme.Giry'sexcitedfeatures tounderstandwhatcouldbegotoutof that fine intellectwith the twowords"ghost"and"empress."

But who pulled the strings of that extraordinary puppet? That was thequestion.

"Youhavenever seenhim;he speaks toyouandyoubelieve all he says?"

askedMoncharmin.

"Yes.Tobeginwith,Ioweit tohimthatmylittleMegwaspromotedtobetheleaderofarow.Isaidtotheghost,'Ifsheistobeempressin1885,thereisno time to lose; shemust becomea leader at once.'He said, 'Lookupon it asdone.'AndhehadonlyawordtosaytoM.Polignyandthethingwasdone."

"SoyouseethatM.Polignysawhim!"

"No,notanymorethanIdid;butheheardhim.Theghostsaidawordinhisear, you know, on the evening when he left Box Five, looking so dreadfullypale."

Moncharminheavedasigh."Whatabusiness!"hegroaned.

"Ah!" said Mme. Giry. "I always thought there were secrets between theghost and M. Poligny. Anything that the ghost asked M. Poligny to do M.Polignydid.M.Polignycouldrefusetheghostnothing."

"Youhear,Richard:Polignycouldrefusetheghostnothing."

"Yes,yes,Ihear!"saidRichard."M.Polignyisafriendoftheghost;and,asMme.Giry is a friendofM.Poligny, thereweare! ...But Idon't care ahangabout M. Poligny," he added roughly. "The only person whose fate reallyinterestsmeisMme.Giry...Mme.Giry,doyouknowwhatisinthisenvelope?"

"Why,ofcoursenot,"shesaid.

"Well,look."

Mine. Giry looked into the envelope with a lackluster eye, which soonrecovereditsbrilliancy.

"Thousand-francnotes!"shecried.

"Yes,Mme.Giry,thousand-francnotes!Andyouknewit!"

"I,sir?I?...Iswear..."

"Don'tswear,Mme.Giry!...AndnowIwilltellyouthesecondreasonwhyI

sentforyou.Mme.Giry,Iamgoingtohaveyouarrested."

The two black feathers on the dingy bonnet, which usually affected theattitudeoftwonotesofinterrogation,changedintotwonotesofexclamation;asforthebonnetitself,itswayedinmenaceontheoldlady'stempestuouschignon.Surprise, indignation, protest and dismaywere furthermore displayed by littleMeg'smotherinasortofextravagantmovementofoffendedvirtue,halfbound,half slide, thatbroughther rightunder thenoseofM.Richard,whocouldnothelppushingbackhischair.

"HAVEMEARRESTED!"

ThemouththatspokethosewordsseemedtospitthethreeteeththatwerelefttoitintoRichard'sface.

M. Richard behaved like a hero. He retreated no farther. His threateningforefingerseemedalreadytobepointingoutthekeeperofBoxFivetotheabsentmagistrates.

"Iamgoingtohaveyouarrested,Mme.Giry,asathief!"

"Saythatagain!"

AndMme.GirycaughtMr.ManagerRichardamightyboxontheear,beforeMr.ManagerMoncharmin had time to intervene. But it was not thewitheredhandoftheangryoldbeldamethatfellonthemanagerialear,buttheenvelopeitself,thecauseofallthetrouble,themagicenvelopethatopenedwiththeblow,scatteringthebank-notes,whichescapedinafantasticwhirlofgiantbutterflies.

Thetwomanagersgaveashout,andthesamethoughtmadethembothgoontheirknees, feverishly,pickingupandhurriedlyexamining thepreciousscrapsofpaper.

"Aretheystillgenuine,Moncharmin?"

"Aretheystillgenuine,Richard?"

"Yes,theyarestillgenuine!"

Abovetheirheads,Mme.Giry'sthreeteethwereclashinginanoisycontest,

fullofhideousinterjections.ButallthatcouldbeclearlydistinguishedwasthisLEIT-MOTIF:

"I,athief!...I,athief,I?"

Shechokedwithrage.Sheshouted:

"Ineverheardofsuchathing!"

And,suddenly,shedarteduptoRichardagain.

"In any case," she yelped, "you,M. Richard, ought to know better than Iwherethetwentythousandfrancswentto!"

"I?"askedRichard,astounded."AndhowshouldIknow?"

Moncharmin, lookingsevereanddissatisfied,atonce insisted that thegoodladyshouldexplainherself.

"Whatdoesthismean,Mme.Giry?"heasked."AndwhydoyousaythatM.Richardought toknowbetter thanyouwhere the twenty-thousandfrancswentto?"

As forRichard,who felt himself turning red underMoncharmin's eyes, hetookMme.Giry by thewrist and shook it violently. In a voice growling androllinglikethunder,heroared:

"WhyshouldIknowbetterthanyouwherethetwenty-thousandfrancswentto?Why?Answerme!"

"Becausetheywentintoyourpocket!"gaspedtheoldwoman,lookingathimasifhewerethedevilincarnate.

RichardwouldhaverusheduponMme.Giry,ifMoncharminhadnotstayedhisavenginghandandhastenedtoaskher,moregently:

"Howcan you suspectmypartner,M.Richard, of putting twenty-thousandfrancsinhispocket?"

"Ineversaidthat,"declaredMme.Giry,"seeingthat itwasmyselfwhoput

thetwenty-thousandfrancsintoM.Richard'spocket."Andsheadded,underhervoice,"There!It'sout!...Andmaytheghostforgiveme!"

Richardbeganbellowinganew,butMoncharminauthoritativelyorderedhimtobesilent.

"Allowme!Allowme!Letthewomanexplainherself.Letmequestionher."Andheadded:"It is reallyastonishing thatyoushould takeupsucha tone! ...Weareonthevergeofclearingupthewholemystery.Andyou'reinarage!...You'rewrongtobehavelikethat...I'menjoyingmyselfimmensely."

Mme.Giry, like themartyr that shewas, raisedherhead,her facebeamingwithfaithinherowninnocence.

"Youtellmethereweretwenty-thousandfrancsintheenvelopewhichIputintoM.Richard'spocket;butItellyouagainthatIknewnothingaboutit...NorM.Richardeither,forthatmatter!"

"Aha!"saidRichard,suddenlyassumingaswaggeringairwhichMoncharmindid not like. "I knew nothing either! You put twenty-thousand francs in mypocketandIknewnothingeither!Iamverygladtohearit,Mme.Giry!"

"Yes," the terrible dame agreed, "yes, it's true. We neither of us knewanything.Butyou,youmusthaveendedbyfindingout!"

Richard would certainly have swallowedMme. Giry alive, ifMoncharminhadnotbeenthere!ButMoncharminprotectedher.Heresumedhisquestions:

"WhatsortofenvelopedidyouputinM.Richard'spocket?Itwasnottheonewhichwegaveyou,theonewhichyoutooktoBoxFivebeforeoureyes;andyetthatwastheonewhichcontainedthetwenty-thousandfrancs."

"Ibegyourpardon.TheenvelopewhichM.leDirecteurgavemewastheonewhichIslippedintoM.leDirecteur'spocket,"explainedMme.Giry."Theonewhich I took to the ghost's box was another envelope, just like it, which theghostgavemebeforehandandwhichIhidupmysleeve."

Sosaying,Mme.Girytookfromhersleeveanenvelopereadypreparedandsimilarlyaddressedtothatcontainingthetwenty-thousandfrancs.Themanagerstook it from her. They examined it and saw that it was fastened with seals

stamped with their ownmanagerial seal. They opened it. It contained twentyBankofSt.Farcenoteslikethosewhichhadsomuchastoundedthemthemonthbefore.

"Howsimple!"saidRichard.

"Howsimple!"repeatedMoncharmin.AndhecontinuedwithhiseyesfixeduponMme.Giry,asthoughtryingtohypnotizeher.

"Soitwastheghostwhogaveyouthisenvelopeandtoldyoutosubstituteitfor theonewhichwegaveyou?And itwas theghostwho toldyou toput theotherintoM.Richard'spocket?"

"Yes,itwastheghost."

"Thenwouldyoumindgivingusaspecimenofyourlittletalents?Hereistheenvelope.Actasthoughweknewnothing."

"Asyouplease,gentlemen."

Mme.Girytooktheenvelopewiththetwentynotesinsideitandmadeforthedoor.Shewasonthepointofgoingoutwhenthetwomanagersrushedather:

"Oh, no!Oh, no!We're not going to be 'done' a second time!Once bitten,twiceshy!"

"Ibegyourpardon,gentlemen,"saidtheoldwoman,inself-excuse,"youtoldmetoactasthoughyouknewnothing...Well,ifyouknewnothing,Ishouldgoawaywithyourenvelope!"

"And then howwould you slip it intomy pocket?" arguedRichard,whomMoncharmin fixedwith his left eye,while keeping his right onMme.Giry: aproceedinglikelytostrainhissight,butMoncharminwaspreparedtogotoanylengthtodiscoverthetruth.

"Iamtoslipitintoyourpocketwhenyouleastexpectit,sir.YouknowthatIalways takea little turnbehind the scenes, in thecourseof theevening, and Ioftengowithmydaughtertotheballet-foyer,whichIamentitledtodo,ashermother;Ibringherhershoes,whentheballetisabouttobegin...infact,IcomeandgoasIplease...Thesubscriberscomeandgotoo...Sodoyou,sir...There

are lotsofpeopleabout ... Igobehindyouandslip theenvelope into the tail-pocketofyourdress-coat...There'snowitchcraftaboutthat!"

"Nowitchcraft!"growledRichard, rollinghiseyes likeJupiterTonans."Nowitchcraft!Why,I'vejustcaughtyouinalie,youoldwitch!"

Mme.Girybristled,withherthreeteethstickingoutofhermouth.

"Andwhy,mayIask?"

"Because I spent that evening watching Box Five and the sham envelopewhichyouputthere.Ididnotgototheballet-foyerforasecond."

"No, sir, and I did not give you the envelope that evening, but at the nextperformance...ontheeveningwhentheunder-secretaryofstateforfinearts..."

Atthesewords,M.RichardsuddenlyinterruptedMme.Giry:

"Yes, that's true, I remember now! The under-secretary went behind thescenes.Heaskedforme.Iwentdowntotheballet-foyerforamoment.Iwasonthefoyersteps...Theunder-secretaryandhischiefclerkwereinthefoyeritself.I suddenly turned around ... you had passed behind me, Mme. Giry ... Youseemedtopushagainstme...Oh,Icanseeyoustill,Icanseeyoustill!"

"Yes,that'sit,sir,that'sit.Ihadjustfinishedmylittlebusiness.Thatpocketofyours,sir,isveryhandy!"

AndMme.Giryoncemoresuitedtheactiontotheword,ShepassedbehindM. Richard and, so nimbly that Moncharmin himself was impressed by it,slipped the envelope into thepocket of oneof the tails ofM.Richard's dress-coat.

"Ofcourse!"exclaimedRichard,lookingalittlepale."It'sverycleverofO.G. The problem which he had to solve was this: how to do away with anydangerousintermediarybetweenthemanwhogivesthetwenty-thousandfrancsandthemanwhoreceivesit.Andbyfarthebestthinghecouldhituponwastocomeandtakethemoneyfrommypocketwithoutmynoticingit,asImyselfdidnotknowthatitwasthere.It'swonderful!"

"Oh,wonderful,nodoubt!"Moncharminagreed."Only,youforget,Richard,

thatIprovidedten-thousandfrancsofthetwentyandthatnobodyputanythinginmypocket!"

[1]Flashnotesdrawnonthe"BankofSt.Farce"inFrancecorrespondwiththosedrawnonthe"BankofEngraving"inEngland.—Translator'sNote.

ChapterXVIITheSafety-PinAgain

Moncharmin'slastphrasesodearlyexpressedthesuspicioninwhichhenowheldhispartner that itwasbound tocauseastormyexplanation,at theendofwhichitwasagreedthatRichardshouldyieldtoallMoncharmin'swishes,withtheobjectofhelpinghimtodiscoverthemiscreantwhowasvictimizingthem.

ThisbringsustotheintervalaftertheGardenAct,withthestrangeconductobservedbyM.Remyand thosecurious lapses from thedignity thatmightbeexpectedof themanagers. Itwas arrangedbetweenRichard andMoncharmin,first,thatRichardshouldrepeattheexactmovementswhichhehadmadeonthenightofthedisappearanceofthefirsttwenty-thousandfrancs;and,second,thatMoncharmin should not for an instant lose sight ofRichard's coat-tail pocket,intowhichMme.Girywastoslipthetwenty-thousandfrancs.

M.Richardwentandplacedhimselfattheidenticalspotwherehehadstoodwhenhebowedtotheunder-secretaryforfinearts.M.Moncharmintookuphispositionafewstepsbehindhim.

Mme. Giry passed, rubbed up against M. Richard, got rid of her twenty-thousand francs in themanager's coat-tail pocket anddisappeared ...Or rathershe was conjured away. In accordance with the instructions received fromMoncharmin a fewminutes earlier,Mercier took the good lady to the acting-manager'sofficeandturnedthekeyonher,thusmakingitimpossibleforhertocommunicatewithherghost.

Meanwhile,M.Richardwasbendingandbowingandscrapingandwalking

backward,justasifhehadthathighandmightyminister,theunder-secretaryforfinearts,beforehim.Only,thoughthesemarksofpolitenesswouldhavecreatedno astonishment if the under-secretary of state had really been in front ofM.Richard, theycausedaneasilycomprehensibleamazement to the spectatorsofthisverynaturalbutquiteinexplicablescenewhenM.Richardhadnobodyinfrontofhim.

M.Richardbowed...tonobody;benthisback...beforenobody;andwalkedbackward...beforenobody...And,afewstepsbehindhim,M.Moncharmindidthe same thing that he was doing in addition to pushing awayM. Remy andbegging M. de La Borderie, the ambassador, and the manager of the CreditCentral"nottotouchM.leDirecteur."

Moncharmin,whohadhisownideas,didnotwantRichardtocometohimpresently,whenthetwenty-thousandfrancsweregone,andsay:

"Perhapsitwastheambassador...orthemanageroftheCreditCentral...orRemy."

Themoresoas,at the timeof the first scene,asRichardhimselfadmitted,RichardhadmetnobodyinthatpartofthetheaterafterMme.Giryhadbrushedupagainsthim...

Havingbegunbywalkingbackwardinordertobow,Richardcontinuedtodoso from prudence, until he reached the passage leading to the offices of themanagement. In this way, he was constantly watched by Moncharmin frombehind and himself kept an eye on any one approaching from the front.Oncemore,thisnovelmethodofwalkingbehindthescenes,adoptedbythemanagersof our National Academy of Music, attracted attention; but the managersthemselvesthoughtofnothingbuttheirtwenty-thousandfrancs.

On reaching the half-dark passage, Richard said toMoncharmin, in a lowvoice:

"Iamsurethatnobodyhastouchedme...YouhadnowbetterkeepatsomedistancefrommeandwatchmetillIcometodooroftheoffice:itisbetternottoarousesuspicionandwecanseeanythingthathappens."

ButMoncharmin replied. "No, Richard, no! Youwalk ahead and I'll walkimmediatelybehindyou!Iwon'tleaveyoubyastep!"

"But, in that case," exclaimed Richard, "they will never steal our twenty-thousandfrancs!"

"Ishouldhopenot,indeed!"declaredMoncharmin.

"Thenwhatwearedoingisabsurd!"

"Wearedoingexactlywhatwedidlasttime...Lasttime,Ijoinedyouasyouwereleavingthestageandfollowedclosebehindyoudownthispassage."

"That's true!" sighed Richard, shaking his head and passively obeyingMoncharmin.

Two minutes later, the joint managers locked themselves into their office.Moncharminhimselfputthekeyinhispocket:

"Weremainedlockeduplikethis,lasttime,"hesaid,"untilyoulefttheOperatogohome."

"That'sso.Noonecameanddisturbedus,Isuppose?"

"Noone."

"Then," said Richard, whowas trying to collect hismemory, "then ImustcertainlyhavebeenrobbedonmywayhomefromtheOpera."

"No,"saidMoncharmininadriertonethanever,"no,that'simpossible.ForIdroppedyouinmycab.Thetwenty-thousandfrancsdisappearedatyourplace:there'snotashadowofadoubtaboutthat."

"It'sincredible!"protestedRichard."Iamsureofmyservants...andifoneofthemhaddoneit,hewouldhavedisappearedsince."

Moncharminshruggedhisshoulders,asthoughtosaythathedidnotwishtoenterintodetails,andRichardbegantothinkthatMoncharminwastreatinghiminaveryinsupportablefashion.

"Moncharmin,I'vehadenoughofthis!"

"Richard,I'vehadtoomuchofit!"

"Doyoudaretosuspectme?"

"Yes,ofasillyjoke."

"Onedoesn'tjokewithtwenty-thousandfrancs."

"That's what I think," declared Moncharmin, unfolding a newspaper andostentatiouslystudyingitscontents.

"What are you doing?" asked Richard. "Are you going to read the papernext?"

"Yes,Richard,untilItakeyouhome."

"Likelasttime?"

"Yes,likelasttime."

RichardsnatchedthepaperfromMoncharmin'shands.Moncharminstoodup,more irritated than ever, and found himself faced by an exasperated Richard,who,crossinghisarmsonhischest,said:

"Look here, I'm thinking of this, I'M THINKING OF WHAT I MIGHTTHINK if, like last time, aftermy spending the evening alonewith you, youbrought me home and if, at the moment of parting, I perceived that twenty-thousandfrancshaddisappearedfrommycoat-pocket...likelasttime."

"Andwhatmightyouthink?"askedMoncharmin,crimsonwithrage.

"Imightthinkthat,asyouhadn'tleftmebyafoot'sbreadthandas,byyourownwish,youwere theonlyone toapproachme, like last time, Imight thinkthat,ifthattwenty-thousandfrancswasnolongerinmypocket,itstoodaverygoodchanceofbeinginyours!"

Moncharminleapedupatthesuggestion.

"Oh!"heshouted."Asafety-pin!"

"Whatdoyouwantasafety-pinfor?"

"Tofastenyouupwith!...Asafety-pin!...Asafety-pin!"

"Youwanttofastenmewithasafety-pin?"

"Yes,tofastenyoutothetwenty-thousandfrancs!Then,whetherit'shere,oronthedrivefromheretoyourplace,oratyourplace,youwillfeelthehandthatpullsatyourpocketandyouwillsee if it'smine!Oh,soyou'resuspectingmenow,areyou?Asafety-pin!"

AndthatwasthemomentwhenMoncharminopenedthedooronthepassageandshouted:

"Asafety-pin!...somebodygivemeasafety-pin!"

Andwealsoknowhow,atthesamemoment,Remy,whohadnosafety-pin,was receivedbyMoncharmin,whileaboyprocured thepin soeagerly longedfor.Andwhathappenedwasthis:Moncharminfirstlockedthedooragain.ThenhekneltdownbehindRichard'sback.

"Ihope,"hesaid,"thatthenotesarestillthere?"

"SodoI,"saidRichard.

"Therealones?"askedMoncharmin,resolvednottobe"had"thistime.

"Lookforyourself,"saidRichard."Irefusetotouchthem."

MoncharmintooktheenvelopefromRichard'spocketanddrewoutthebank-noteswitha tremblinghand,for, this time, inorderfrequently tomakesureofthepresenceofthenotes,hehadnotsealedtheenvelopenorevenfastenedit.Hefeltreassuredonfindingthattheywereallthereandquitegenuine.Heputthemback in the tail-pocket and pinned them with great care. Then he sat downbehind Richard's coat-tails and kept his eyes fixed on them, while Richard,sittingathiswriting-table,didnotstir.

"Alittlepatience,Richard,"saidMoncharmin."Wehaveonlyafewminutestowait...Theclockwillsoonstriketwelve.Lasttime,weleftatthelaststrokeoftwelve."

"Oh,Ishallhaveallthepatiencenecessary!"

Thetimepassed,slow,heavy,mysterious,stifling.Richardtriedtolaugh.

"Ishallendbybelievingintheomnipotenceoftheghost,"hesaid."Justnow,don'tyoufindsomethinguncomfortable,disquieting,alarmingintheatmosphereofthisroom?"

"You'requiteright,"saidMoncharmin,whowasreallyimpressed.

"The ghost!" continued Richard, in a low voice, as though fearing lest heshouldbeoverheardbyinvisibleears."Theghost!Suppose,allthesame,itwereaghostwhoputsthemagicenvelopesonthetable...whotalksinBoxFive...whokilledJosephBuquet...whounhookedthechandelier...andwhorobsus!For,afterall,afterall,afterall,thereisnoonehereexceptyouandme,and,ifthenotesdisappearandneitheryounorIhaveanythingtodowithit,well,weshallhavetobelieveintheghost...intheghost."

Atthatmoment,theclockonthemantlepiecegaveitswarningclickandthefirststrokeoftwelvestruck.

The two managers shuddered. The perspiration streamed from theirforeheads.Thetwelfthstrokesoundedstrangelyintheirears.

Whentheclockstopped,theygaveasighandrosefromtheirchairs.

"Ithinkwecangonow,"saidMoncharmin.

"Ithinkso,"Richardaagreed.

"Beforewego,doyoumindifIlookinyourpocket?"

"But, of course, Moncharmin, YOU MUST! ... Well?" he asked, asMoncharminwasfeelingatthepocket.

"Well,Icanfeelthepin."

"Ofcourse,asyousaid,wecan'tberobbedwithoutnoticingit."

ButMoncharmin,whosehandswerestillfumbling,bellowed:

"Icanfeelthepin,butIcan'tfeelthenotes!"

"Come,nojoking,Moncharmin!...Thisisn'tthetimeforit."

"Well,feelforyourself."

Richard tore off his coat. The twomanagers turned the pocket inside out.THEPOCKETWASEMPTY.Andthecuriousthingwasthatthepinremained,stuckinthesameplace.

RichardandMoncharminturnedpale.Therewasnolongeranydoubtaboutthewitchcraft.

"Theghost!"mutteredMoncharmin.

ButRichardsuddenlyspranguponhispartner.

"Noonebutyouhastouchedmypocket!Givemebackmytwenty-thousandfrancs!...Givemebackmytwenty-thousandfrancs!..."

"Onmysoul,"sighedMoncharmin,whowasreadytoswoon,"onmysoul,IswearthatIhaven'tgotit!"

Then somebodyknocked at the door.Moncharminopened it automatically,seemed hardly to recognize Mercier, his business-manager, exchanged a fewwordswithhim,withoutknowingwhathewassayingand,withanunconsciousmovement,putthesafety-pin,forwhichhehadnofurtheruse,intothehandsofhisbewilderedsubordinate...

ChapterXVIIITheCommissary,TheViscountandthePersian

Thefirstwordsofthecommissaryofpolice,onenteringthemanagers'office,weretoaskafterthemissingprimadonna.

"IsChristineDaaehere?"

"ChristineDaaehere?"echoedRichard."No.Why?"

AsforMoncharmin,hehadnotthestrengthlefttoutteraword.

Richard repeated, for the commissary and the compact crowd which hadfollowedhimintotheofficeobservedanimpressivesilence.

"WhydoyouaskifChristineDaaeishere,M.LECOMMISSAIRE?"

"Becauseshehastobefound,"declaredthecommissaryofpolicesolemnly.

"Whatdoyoumean,shehastobefound?Hasshedisappeared?"

"Inthemiddleoftheperformance!"

"Inthemiddleoftheperformance?Thisisextraordinary!"

"Isn't it?Andwhat isquiteasextraordinary is thatyoushould first learn itfromme!"

"Yes,"saidRichard,takinghisheadinhishandsandmuttering."Whatisthisnewbusiness?Oh,it'senoughtomakeamansendinhisresignation!"

Andhepulledafewhairsoutofhismustachewithoutevenknowingwhathewasdoing.

"Soshe...soshedisappearedinthemiddleoftheperformance?"herepeated.

"Yes, she was carried off in the PrisonAct, at themoment when she wasinvokingtheaidoftheangels;butIdoubtifshewascarriedoffbyanangel."

"AndIamsurethatshewas!"

Everybodylookedround.Ayoungman,paleandtremblingwithexcitement,repeated:

"Iamsureofit!"

"Sureofwhat?"askedMifroid.

"ThatChristineDaaewas carriedoff by an angel,M.LECOMMISSAIREandIcantellyouhisname."

"Aha,M. leVicomtedeChagny!Soyoumaintain thatChristineDaaewascarriedoffbyanangel:anangeloftheOpera,nodoubt?"

"Yes,monsieur,byanangeloftheOpera;andIwilltellyouwherehelives...whenwearealone."

"Youareright,monsieur."

And the commissary of police, inviting Raoul to take a chair, cleared theroomofalltherest,exceptingthemanagers.

ThenRaoulspoke:

"M.leCommissaire,theangeliscalledErik,helivesintheOperaandheistheAngelofMusic!"

"TheAngelofMusic!Really!Thatisverycurious!...TheAngelofMusic!"And,turningtothemanagers,M.Mifroidasked,"HaveyouanAngelofMusiconthepremises,gentlemen?"

RichardandMoncharminshooktheirheads,withoutevenspeaking.

"Oh," said the viscount, "those gentlemen have heard of the Opera ghost.Well,IaminapositiontostatethattheOperaghostandtheAngelofMusicareoneandthesameperson;andhisrealnameisErik."

M.MifroidroseandlookedatRaoulattentively.

"Ibegyourpardon,monsieurbutisityourintentiontomakefunofthelaw?And,ifnot,whatisallthisabouttheOperaghost?"

"Isaythatthesegentlemenhaveheardofhim."

"Gentlemen,itappearsthatyouknowtheOperaghost?"

Richardrose,withtheremaininghairsofhismustacheinhishand.

"No,M.Commissary,no,wedonotknowhim,butwewishthatwedid,forthisveryeveninghehasrobbedusoftwenty-thousandfrancs!"

AndRichardturnedaterriblelookonMoncharmin,whichseemedtosay:

"Givemebackthetwenty-thousandfrancs,orI'lltellthewholestory."

Moncharmin understood what he meant, for, with a distracted gesture, hesaid:

"Oh,telleverythingandhavedonewithit!"

As for Mifroid, he looked at the managers and at Raoul by turns andwondered whether he had strayed into a lunatic asylum. He passed his handthroughhishair.

"A ghost," he said, "who, on the same evening, carries off an opera-singerandstealstwenty-thousandfrancsisaghostwhomusthavehishandsveryfull!If you don't mind, we will take the questions in order. The singer first, thetwenty-thousandfrancsafter.Come,M.deChagny, letus try to talkseriously.You believe that Mlle. Christine Daae has been carried off by an individualcalledErik.Doyouknowthisperson?Haveyouseenhim?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Inachurchyard."

M.Mifroidgaveastart,begantoscrutinizeRaoulagainandsaid:

"Ofcourse!...That'swhereghostsusuallyhangout!...Andwhatwereyoudoinginthatchurchyard?"

"Monsieur,"saidRaoul,"Icanquiteunderstandhowabsurdmyrepliesmustseemtoyou.ButIbegyoutobelievethatIaminfullpossessionofmyfaculties.Thesafetyofthepersondearest tomeintheworldisatstake.Ishouldliketoconvinceyouinafewwords,fortimeispressingandeveryminuteisvaluable.Unfortunately, if I do not tell you the strangest story that ever was from thebeginning,youwillnotbelieveme. Iwill tellyouall Iknowabout theOperaghost,M.Commissary.Alas,Idonotknowmuch!..."

"Nevermind,goon,goon!"exclaimedRichardandMoncharmin,suddenlygreatlyinterested.

Unfortunatelyfortheirhopesoflearningsomedetailthatcouldputthemonthe trackof their hoaxer, theywere soon compelled to accept the fact thatM.

Raoul de Chagny had completely lost his head. All that story about Perros-Guirec,death'sheadsandenchantedviolins,couldonlyhavetakenbirth in thedisordered brain of a youth mad with love. It was evident, also, that Mr.CommissaryMifroidsharedtheirview;andthemagistratewouldcertainlyhavecut short the incoherent narrative if circumstances had not taken it uponthemselvestointerruptit.

Thedooropenedandamanentered,curiouslydressedinanenormousfrock-coat and a tall hat, at once shabby and shiny, that came down to his ears.Hewent up to the commissary and spoke to him in awhisper. Itwas doubtless adetectivecometodeliveranimportantcommunication.

Duringthisconversation,M.MifroiddidnottakehiseyesoffRaoul.Atlast,addressinghim,hesaid:

"Monsieur,wehavetalkedenoughabout theghost.Wewillnowtalkaboutyourselfalittle,ifyouhavenoobjection:youweretocarryoffMlle.ChristineDaaeto-night?"

"Yes,M.leCommissaire."

"Aftertheperformance?"

"Yes,M.leCommissaire."

"Allyourarrangementsweremade?"

"Yes,M.leCommissaire."

"Thecarriagethatbroughtyouwastotakeyoubothaway...Therewerefreshhorsesinreadinessateverystage..."

"Thatistrue,M.leCommissaire."

"And nevertheless your carriage is still outside the Rotunda awaiting yourorders,isitnot?"

"Yes,M.leCommissaire."

"Did you know that there were three other carriages there, in addition to

yours?"

"Ididnotpaytheleastattention."

"TheywerethecarriagesofMlle.Sorelli,whichcouldnotfindroomintheCour de l'Administration; of Carlotta; and of your brother, M. le Comte deChagny..."

"Verylikely..."

"Whatiscertainisthat,thoughyourcarriageandSorelli'sandCarlotta'sarestillthere,bytheRotundapavement,M.leComtedeChagny'scarriageisgone."

"Thishasnothingtosayto..."

"I beg your pardon.Was notM. le Comte opposed to yourmarriage withMlle.Daae?"

"Thatisamatterthatonlyconcernsthefamily."

"Youhaveansweredmyquestion:hewasopposedtoit...andthatwaswhyyou were carrying Christine Daae out of your brother's reach... Well, M. deChagny,allowmetoinformyouthatyourbrotherhasbeensmarterthanyou!ItishewhohascarriedoffChristineDaae!"

"Oh, impossible!"moanedRaoul, pressing his hand to his heart. "Are yousure?"

"Immediatelyafter theartist'sdisappearance,whichwasprocuredbymeanswhichwe have still to ascertain, he flung into his carriage,which drove rightacrossParisatafuriouspace."

"AcrossParis?"askedpoorRaoul,inahoarsevoice."WhatdoyoumeanbyacrossParis?"

"AcrossParisandoutofParis...bytheBrusselsroad."

"Oh,"cried theyoungman, "I shall catch them!"Andhe rushedoutof theoffice.

"Andbringherbacktous!"criedthecommisarygaily ..."Ah,that'sa trickworthtwooftheAngelofMusic's!"

And, turning tohisaudience,M.Mifroiddelivereda little lectureonpolicemethods.

"I don't know for a moment whether M. le Comte de Chagny has reallycarriedChristineDaaeoffornot...butIwanttoknowandIbelievethat,atthismoment,nooneismoreanxioustoinformusthanhisbrother...Andnowheisflyinginpursuitofhim!Heismychiefauxiliary!This,gentlemen,istheartofthe police, which is believed to be so complicated and which, neverthelessappearssosimpleassoonitsyouseethatitconsistsingettingyourworkdonebypeoplewhohavenothingtodowiththepolice."

But M. le Commissaire de Police Mifroid would not have been quite sosatisfiedwithhimself ifhehadknown that the rushofhis rapidemissarywasstoppedat the entrance to thevery first corridor.A tall figureblockedRaoul'sway.

"Whereareyougoingsofast,M.deChagny?"askedavoice.

Raoulimpatientlyraisedhiseyesandrecognizedtheastrakhancapofanhourago.Hestopped:

"It'syou!"hecried, ina feverishvoice. "You,whoknowErik's secretsanddon'twantmetospeakofthem.Whoareyou?"

"YouknowwhoIam!...IamthePersian!"

ChapterXIXTheViscountandthePersian

Raoulnowrememberedthathisbrotherhadonceshownhimthatmysteriousperson,ofwhomnothingwasknownexcept thathewasaPersianand thathelivedinalittleold-fashionedflatintheRuedeRivoli.

Themanwith the ebony skin, the eyes of jade and the astrakhan cap bent

overRaoul.

"Ihope,M.deChagny,"hesaid,"thatyouhavenotbetrayedErik'ssecret?"

"And why should I hesitate to betray that monster, sir?" Raoul rejoinedhaughtily,tryingtoshakeofftheintruder."Isheyourfriend,byanychance?"

"I hope that you said nothing about Erik, sir, because Erik's secret is alsoChristineDaae'sandtotalkaboutoneistotalkabouttheother!"

"Oh, sir," said Raoul, becoming more and more impatient, "you seem toknow aboutmany things that interestme; and yet I have no time to listen toyou!"

"Oncemore,M.deChagny,whereareyougoingsofast?"

"Cannotyouguess?ToChristineDaae'sassistance..."

"Then,sir,stayhere,forChristineDaaeishere!"

"WithErik?"

"WithErik."

"Howdoyouknow?"

"IwasattheperformanceandnooneintheworldbutErikcouldcontriveanabductionlikethat!...Oh,"hesaid,withadeepsigh,"Irecognizedthemonster'stouch!..."

"Youknowhimthen?"

ThePersiandidnotreply,butheavedafreshsigh.

"Sir," saidRaoul, "Idonotknowwhatyour intentions are,but canyoudoanythingtohelpme?Imean,tohelpChristineDaae?"

"Ithinkso,M.deChagny,andthatiswhyIspoketoyou."

"Whatcanyoudo?"

"Trytotakeyoutoher...andtohim."

"Ifyoucandomethatservice,sir,mylifeisyours! ...Onewordmore:thecommissaryof police tellsme thatChristineDaaehasbeen carriedoff bymybrother,CountPhilippe."

"Oh,M.deChagny,Idon'tbelieveawordofit."

"It'snotpossible,isit?"

"Idon'tknowifitispossibleornot;buttherearewaysandwaysofcarryingpeopleoff;andM.leComtePhilippehasnever,asfarasIknow,hadanythingtodowithwitchcraft."

"Your arguments are convincing, sir, and I am a fool! ... Oh, let us makehaste! Iplacemyselfentirely inyourhands! ...Howshould Inotbelieveyou,whenyouare theonlyone tobelieveme ...whenyouare theonlyonenot tosmilewhenErik'snameismentioned?"

AndtheyoungmanimpetuouslyseizedthePersian'shands.Theywereice-cold.

"Silence!"saidthePersian,stoppingandlisteningtothedistantsoundsofthetheater. "Wemust notmention that name here. Let us say 'he' and 'him;' thentherewillbelessdangerofattractinghisattention."

"Doyouthinkheisnearus?"

"Itisquitepossible,Sir,ifheisnot,atthismoment,withhisvictim,INTHEHOUSEONTHELAKE."

"Ah,soyouknowthathousetoo?"

"Ifheisnotthere,hemaybehere,inthiswall,inthisfloor,inthisceiling!...Come!"

AndthePersian,askingRaoultodeadenthesoundofhisfootsteps,ledhimdown passages which Raoul had never seen before, even at the time whenChristineusedtotakehimforwalksthroughthatlabyrinth.

"IfonlyDariushascome!"saidthePersian.

"WhoisDarius?"

"Darius?Myservant."

Theywerenowinthecenterofarealdesertedsquare,animmenseapartmentill-litbyasmalllamp.ThePersianstoppedRaouland,inthesoftestofwhispers,asked:

"Whatdidyousaytothecommissary?"

"I said thatChristineDaae's abductorwas theAngel ofMusic,ALIAS theOperaghost,andthattherealnamewas..."

"Hush!...Anddidhebelieveyou?"

"No."

"Heattachednoimportancetowhatyousaid?"

"No."

"Hetookyouforabitofamadman?"

"Yes."

"Somuchthebetter!"sighedthePersian.

And they continued their road.After going up and down several staircaseswhichRaoulhadneverseenbefore,thetwomenfoundthemselvesinfrontofadoorwhichthePersianopenedwithamaster-key.ThePersianandRaoulwereboth,ofcourse, indress-clothes;but,whereasRaoulhada tallhat, thePersianworetheastrakhancapwhichIhavealreadymentioned.Itwasaninfringementof the rule which insists upon the tall hat behind the scenes; but in Franceforeigners are allowed every license: the Englishman his traveling-cap, thePersianhiscapofastrakhan.

"Sir,"saidthePersian,"yourtallhatwillbeinyourway:youwoulddowelltoleaveitinthedressing-room."

"Whatdressing-room?"askedRaoul.

"ChristineDaae's."

And thePersian, lettingRaoul through thedoorwhichhehad just opened,showedhimtheactress'roomopposite.TheywereattheendofthepassagethewholelengthofwhichRaoulhadbeenaccustomedtotraversebeforeknockingatChristine'sdoor.

"HowwellyouknowtheOpera,sir!"

"Notsowellas'he'does!"saidthePersianmodestly.

AndhepushedtheyoungmanintoChristine'sdressing-room,whichwasasRaoulhadleftitafewminutesearlier.

Closingthedoor,thePersianwenttoaverythinpartitionthatseparatedthedressing-roomfromabiglumber-roomnexttoit.Helistenedandthencoughedloudly.

There was a sound of some one stirring in the lumber-room; and, a fewsecondslater,afingertappedatthedoor.

"Comein,"saidthePersian.

Amanentered,alsowearinganastrakhancapanddressedinalongovercoat.He bowed and took a richly carved case from under his coat, put it on thedressing-table,bowedonceagainandwenttothedoor.

"Didnooneseeyoucomein,Darius?"

"No,master."

"Letnooneseeyougoout."

Theservantglanceddownthepassageandswiftlydisappeared.

ThePersianopenedthecase.Itcontainedapairoflongpistols.

"WhenChristineDaaewascarriedoff,sir,Isentwordtomyservanttobringmethesepistols.Ihavehadthemalongtimeandtheycanbereliedupon."

"Doyoumeantofightaduel?"askedtheyoungman.

"It will certainly be a duel which we shall have to fight," said the other,examining the priming of his pistols. "Andwhat a duel!"Handing one of thepistolstoRaoul,headded,"Inthisduel,weshallbetwotoone;butyoumustbepreparedforeverything,forweshallbefightingthemostterribleadversarythatyoucanimagine.ButyouloveChristineDaae,doyounot?"

"Iworshipthegroundshestandson!Butyou,sir,whodonot loveher, tellmewhyIfindyoureadytoriskyourlifeforher!YoumustcertainlyhateErik!"

"No,sir,"saidthePersiansadly,"Idonothatehim.IfIhatedhim,hewouldlongagohaveceaseddoingharm."

"Hashedoneyouharm?"

"Ihaveforgivenhimtheharmwhichhehasdoneme."

"Idonotunderstandyou.Youtreathimasamonster,youspeakofhiscrime,hehasdoneyouharmandIfindinyouthesameinexplicablepitythatdrovemetodespairwhenIsawitinChristine!"

ThePersiandidnotreply.Hefetchedastoolandsetitagainstthewallfacingthegreatmirrorthatfilledthewholeofthewall-spaceopposite.Thenheclimbedon the stool and, with his nose to the wallpaper, seemed to be looking forsomething.

"Ah,"hesaid,afteralongsearch,"Ihaveit!"And,raisinghisfingerabovehishead,hepressedagainstacornerinthepatternofthepaper.Thenheturnedroundandjumpedoffthestool:

"Inhalfaminute,"hesaid,"heshallbeONHISROAD!"andcrossing thewholeofthedressing-roomhefeltthegreatmirror.

"No,itisnotyieldingyet,"hemuttered.

"Oh,arewegoingoutbythemirror?"askedRaoul."LikeChristineDaae."

"SoyouknewthatChristineDaaewentoutbythatmirror?"

"Shedidsobeforemyeyes,sir!IwashiddenbehindthecurtainoftheinnerroomandIsawhervanishnotbytheglass,butintheglass!"

"Andwhatdidyoudo?"

"Ithoughtitwasanaberrationofmysenses,amaddream.

"Or some new fancy of the ghost's!" chuckled the Persian. "Ah, M. deChagny,"hecontinued,stillwithhishandonthemirror,"wouldthatwehadtodowithaghost!Wecouldthenleaveourpistolsintheircase...Putdownyourhat,please ... there ...andnowcoveryourshirt-frontasmuchasyoucanwithyourcoat...asIamdoing...Bringthelapelsforward...turnupthecollar...Wemustmakeourselvesasinvisibleaspossible."

Bearingagainstthemirror,afterashortsilence,hesaid:

"It takes some time to release the counterbalance, when you press on thespringfromtheinsideoftheroom.Itisdifferentwhenyouarebehindthewallandcanactdirectlyonthecounterbalance.Thenthemirrorturnsatonceandismovedwithincrediblerapidity."

"Whatcounterbalance?"askedRaoul.

"Why,thecounterbalancethatliftsthewholeofthiswallontoitspivot.Yousurelydon'texpectittomoveofitself,byenchantment!Ifyouwatch,youwillseethemirrorfirstriseaninchortwoandthenshiftaninchortwofromlefttoright.Itwillthenbeonapivotandwillswinground."

"It'snotturning!"saidRaoulimpatiently.

"Oh,wait!Youhave time enough to be impatient, sir!Themechanismhasobviouslybecomerusty,orelsethespringisn'tworking...Unlessitissomethingelse,"addedthePersian,anxiously.

"What?"

"He may simply have cut the cord of the counterbalance and blocked thewholeapparatus."

"Whyshouldhe?Hedoesnotknowthatwearecomingthisway!"

"Idaresayhesuspectsit,forheknowsthatIunderstandthesystem."

"It'snotturning!...AndChristine,sir,Christine?"

ThePersiansaidcoldly:

"Weshalldoallthatitishumanlypossibletodo!...Buthemaystopusatthefirststep!...Hecommandsthewalls,thedoorsandthetrapdoors.Inmycountry,hewasknownbyanamewhichmeansthe'trap-doorlover.'"

"Butwhydothesewallsobeyhimalone?Hedidnotbuildthem!"

"Yes,sir,thatisjustwhathedid!"

Raoullookedathiminamazement;butthePersianmadeasigntohimtobesilentandpointedtotheglass...Therewasasortofshiveringreflection.Theirimagewastroubledasinaripplingsheetofwaterandthenallbecamestationaryagain.

"Yousee,sir,thatitisnotturning!Letustakeanotherroad!"

"To-night, there isnoother!"declared thePersian, inasingularlymournfulvoice."Andnow,lookout!Andbereadytofire."

Hehimselfraisedhispistoloppositetheglass.Raoulimitatedhismovement.Withhis freearm, thePersiandrewtheyoungman tohischestand,suddenly,themirror turned, inablindingdazeofcross-lights: it turnedlikeoneof thoserevolving doors which have lately been fixed to the entrances of mostrestaurants, it turned, carrying Raoul and the Persian with it and suddenlyhurlingthemfromthefulllightintothedeepestdarkness.

ChapterXXIntheCellarsoftheOpera

"Yourhandhigh,readytofire!"repeatedRaoul'scompanionquickly.

Thewall,behindthem,havingcompletedthecirclewhichitdescribeduponitself, closed again; and the twomen stoodmotionless for amoment, holdingtheirbreath.

Atlast, thePersiandecidedtomakeamovement;andRaoulheardhimslipon his knees and feel for something in the dark with his groping hands.Suddenly, the darkness was made visible by a small dark lantern and Raoulinstinctively stepped backward as though to escape the scrutiny of a secretenemy. But he soon perceived that the light belonged to the Persian, whosemovements hewas closely observing. The little red diskwas turned in everydirectionandRaoulsawthatthefloor,thewallsandtheceilingwereallformedof planking. It must have been the ordinary road taken by Erik to reachChristine's dressing-room and impose upon her innocence. And Raoul,remembering the Persian's remark, thought that it had been mysteriouslyconstructed by the ghost himself. Later, he learned that Erik had found, allpreparedforhim,asecretpassage,longknowntohimselfaloneandcontrivedatthe time of the Paris Commune to allow the jailers to convey their prisonersstraighttothedungeonsthathadbeenconstructedfortheminthecellars;fortheFederates had occupied the opera-house immediately after the eighteenth ofMarch and had made a starting-place right at the top for their Mongolfierballoons,whichcarriedtheirincendiaryproclamationstothedepartments,andastateprisonrightatthebottom.

ThePersianwentonhiskneesandputhislanternontheground.Heseemedto be working at the floor; and suddenly he turned off his light. Then Raoulheard a faint click and saw a very pale luminous square in the floor of thepassage. It was as though a window had opened on the Opera cellars, whichwerestill lit.RaoulnolongersawthePersian,buthesuddenlyfelthimbyhissideandheardhimwhisper:

"FollowmeanddoallthatIdo."

Raoulturnedtotheluminousaperture.ThenhesawthePersian,whowasstillon his knees, hang by his hands from the rim of the opening, with his pistol

betweenhisteeth,andslideintothecellarbelow.

Curiously enough, the viscount had absolute confidence in the Persian,thoughheknewnothingabouthim.Hisemotionwhenspeakingofthe"monster"struck him as sincere; and, if the Persian had cherished any sinister designsagainsthim,hewouldnothavearmedhimwithhisownhands.Besides,RaoulmustreachChristineatallcosts.Hethereforewentonhiskneesalsoandhungfromthetrapwithbothhands.

"Letgo!"saidavoice.

AndhedroppedintothearmsofthePersian,whotoldhimtoliedownflat,closed the trap-doorabovehimandcroucheddownbesidehim.Raoul tried toask aquestion, but thePersian's handwasonhismouth andheheard a voicewhichherecognizedasthatofthecommissaryofpolice.

Raoul and the Persianwere completely hidden behind a wooden partition.Near them, a small staircase led to a little room in which the commissaryappearedtobewalkingupanddown,askingquestions.Thefaintlightwasjustenough toenableRaoul todistinguish theshapeof thingsaroundhim.Andhecouldnotrestrainadullcry:therewerethreecorpsesthere.

Thefirstlayonthenarrowlandingofthelittlestaircase;thetwoothershadrolled to thebottomof thestaircase.Raoulcouldhave touchedoneof the twopoorwretchesbypassinghisfingersthroughthepartition.

"Silence!"whisperedthePersian.

Hetoohadseenthebodiesandhegaveonewordinexplanation:

"HE!"

The commissary's voicewasnowheardmoredistinctly.Hewas asking forinformationaboutthesystemoflighting,whichthestage-managersupplied.Thecommissarythereforemustbeinthe"organ"oritsimmediateneighborhood.

Contrary towhat onemight think, especially in connectionwith an opera-house, the "organ" is not a musical instrument. At that time, electricity wasemployed only for a very few scenic effects and for the bells. The immensebuildingandthestageitselfwerestilllitbygas;hydrogenwasusedtoregulate

andmodify the lighting of a scene; and thiswas done bymeans of a specialapparatus which, because of the multiplicity of its pipes, was known as the"organ."Aboxbeside theprompter's boxwas reserved for the chief gas-man,whofromtheregavehisorderstohisassistantsandsawthattheywereexecuted.Mauclairstayedinthisboxduringalltheperformances.

ButnowMauclairwasnotinhisboxandhisassistantsnotintheirplaces.

"Mauclair!Mauclair!"

Thestage-manager'svoiceechoedthroughthecellars.ButMauclairdidnotreply.

Ihavesaidthatadooropenedonalittlestaircasethatledtothesecondcellar.Thecommissarypushedit,butitresisted.

"Isay,"hesaidtothestage-manager,"Ican'topenthisdoor:isitalwayssodifficult?"

Thestage-managerforceditopenwithhisshoulder.Hesawthat,atthesametime,hewaspushingahumanbodyandhecouldnotkeepbackanexclamation,forherecognizedthebodyatonce:

"Mauclair!Poordevil!Heisdead!"

ButMr. CommissaryMifroid, whom nothing surprised, was stooping overthatbigbody.

"No,"hesaid,"heisdead-drunk,whichisnotquitethesamething."

"It'sthefirsttime,ifso,"saidthestage-manager

"Thensomeonehasgivenhimanarcotic.Thatisquitepossible."

Mifroidwentdownafewstepsandsaid:

"Look!"

Bythelightofalittleredlantern,atthefootofthestairs,theysawtwootherbodies.Thestage-managerrecognizedMauclair'sassistants.Mifroidwentdown

andlistenedtotheirbreathing.

"They are sound asleep," he said. "Very curious business! Some personunknownmusthaveinterferedwiththegas-manandhisstaff...andthatpersonunknownwasobviouslyworkingonbehalfofthekidnapper...Butwhatafunnyidea tokidnap aperformeron the stage! ... Send for thedoctor of the theater,please."AndMifroidrepeated,"Curious,decidedlycuriousbusiness!"

Thenheturnedtothelittleroom,addressingthepeoplewhomRaoulandthePersianwereunabletoseefromwheretheylay.

"Whatdoyousaytoallthis,gentlemen?Youaretheonlyoneswhohavenotgivenyourviews.Andyetyoumusthaveanopinionofsomesort."

Thereupon,RaoulandthePersiansawthestartledfacesofthejointmanagersappearabovethelanding—andtheyheardMoncharmin'sexcitedvoice:

"Therearethingshappeninghere,Mr.Commissary,whichweareunabletoexplain."

Andthetwofacesdisappeared.

"Thankyoufortheinformation,gentlemen,"saidMifroid,withajeer.

Butthestage-manager,holdinghischininthehollowofhisrighthand,whichistheattitudeofprofoundthought,said:

"It is not the first time that Mauclair has fallen asleep in the theater. Irememberfindinghim,oneevening,snoringinhis littlerecess,withhissnuff-boxbesidehim."

"Isthatlongago?"askedM.Mifroid,carefullywipinghiseye-glasses.

"No,notsoverylongago...Waitabit!...Itwasthenight...ofcourse,yes...ItwasthenightwhenCarlotta—youknow,Mr.Commissary—gaveherfamous'co-ack'!"

"Really?ThenightwhenCarlottagaveherfamous'co-ack'?"

AndM.Mifroid,replacinghisgleamingglassesonhisnose,fixedthestage-

managerwithacontemplativestare.

"SoMauclairtakessnuff,doeshe?"heaskedcarelessly.

"'Yes,Mr.Commissary ...Look, there ishissnuff-boxon that littleshelf ...Oh!he'sagreatsnuff-taker!"

"SoamI,"saidMifroidandputthesnuff-boxinhispocket.

Raoul and thePersian, themselves unobserved,watched the removal of thethree bodies by a number of scene-shifters, who were followed by thecommissary and all the people with him. Their steps were heard for a fewminuteson thestageabove.When theywerealone thePersianmadeasign toRaoul tostandup.Raouldidso;but,ashedidnot lifthishand infrontofhiseyes,readytofire,thePersiantoldhimtoresumethatattitudeandtocontinueit,whateverhappened.

"Butittiresthehandunnecessarily,"whisperedRaoul."IfIdofire,Ishan'tbesureofmyaim."

"Thenshiftyourpistoltotheotherhand,"saidthePersian.

"Ican'tshootwithmylefthand."

Thereupon, the Persian made this queer reply, which was certainly notcalculatedtothrowlightintotheyoungman'sflurriedbrain:

"It'snotaquestionofshootingwiththerighthandortheleft;it'saquestionofholdingoneofyourhandsasthoughyouweregoingtopullthetriggerofapistolwithyourarmbent.Asforthepistolitself,whenallissaid,youcanputthat in your pocket!"And he added, "Let this be clearly understood, or Iwillanswerfornothing.Itisamatteroflifeanddeath.Andnow,silenceandfollowme!"

The cellars of theOpera are enormous and they are five in number.Raoulfollowed the Persian and wondered what he would have done without hiscompanion in thatextraordinary labyrinth.Theywentdown to the thirdcellar;andtheirprogresswasstilllitbysomedistantlamp.

The lower theywent, themore precautions thePersian seemed to take.He

keptonturningtoRaoultoseeifhewasholdinghisarmproperly,showinghimhowhehimselfcarriedhishandasifalwaysreadytofire,thoughthepistolwasinhispocket.

Suddenly,aloudvoicemadethemstop.Someoneabovethemshouted:

"Allthedoor-shuttersonthestage!Thecommissaryofpolicewantsthem!"

Stepswereheardandshadowsglidedthroughthedarkness.ThePersiandrewRaoulbehindasetpiece.Theysawpassingbeforeandabovethemoldmenbentbyageandthepastburdenofopera-scenery.Somecouldhardlydragthemselvesalong;others, fromhabit,with stoopingbodiesandoutstretchedhands, lookedfordoorstoshut.

They were the door-shutters, the old, worn-out scene-shifters, on whom acharitable management had taken pity, giving them the job of shutting doorsaboveandbelowthestage.Theywentaboutincessantly,fromtoptobottomofthebuilding,shuttingthedoors;andtheywerealsocalled"Thedraft-expellers,"atleastatthattime,forIhavelittledoubtthatbynowtheyarealldead.Draftsareverybadforthevoice,wherevertheymaycomefrom.[1]

Thetwomenmighthavestumbledoverthem,wakingthemupandprovokinga request for explanations. For themoment,M.Mifroid's inquiry saved themfromanysuchunpleasantencounters.

The Persian and Raoul welcomed this incident, which relieved them ofinconvenientwitnesses,forsomeof thosedoor-shutters,havingnothingelsetodoornowheretolaytheirheads,stayedattheOpera,fromidlenessornecessity,andspentthenightthere.

Buttheywerenotlefttoenjoytheirsolitudeforlong.Othershadesnowcamedownbythesamewaybywhich thedoor-shuttershadgoneup.Eachof theseshadescarriedalittlelanternandmoveditabout,above,belowandallaround,asthoughlookingforsomethingorsomebody.

"Hangit!"mutteredthePersian."Idon'tknowwhattheyarelookingfor,buttheymighteasilyfindus...Letusgetaway,quick!...Yourhandup,sir,readytofire! ...Bendyourarm...more... that's it! ...Handatthelevelofyoureye,asthoughyouwerefightingaduelandwaitingforthewordtofire!Oh,leaveyourpistol in your pocket. Quick, come along, down-stairs. Level of your eye!

Questionoflifeordeath!...Here,thisway,thesestairs!"Theyreachedthefifthcellar."Oh,whataduel,sir,whataduel!"

Onceinthefifthcellar,thePersiandrewbreath.Heseemedtoenjoyarathergreater senseof security thanhehaddisplayedwhen theyboth stopped in thethird;butheneveralteredtheattitudeofhishand.AndRaoul,rememberingthePersian'sobservation—"Iknowthesepistolscanbereliedupon"—wasmoreandmoreastonished,wonderingwhyanyoneshouldbesogratifiedatbeingabletorelyuponapistolwhichhedidnotintendtouse!

ButthePersianlefthimnotimeforreflection.TellingRaoultostaywherehewas, he ran up a few steps of the staircasewhich they had just left and thenreturned.

"Howstupidofus!"hewhispered."Weshallsoonhaveseentheendofthosemenwiththeirlanterns.Itisthefiremengoingtheirrounds."[2]

Thetwomenwaitedfiveminuteslonger.ThenthePersiantookRaoulupthestairsagain;butsuddenlyhestoppedhimwithagesture.Somethingmoved inthedarknessbeforethem.

"Flatonyourstomach!"whisperedthePersian.

Thetwomenlayflatonthefloor.

Theywereonlyjustintime.Ashade,thistimecarryingnolight,justashadeintheshade,passed.Itpassedclosetothem,nearenoughtotouchthem.

Theyfelt thewarmthof itscloakuponthem.Fortheycoulddistinguishtheshadesufficientlytoseethatitworeacloakwhichshroudeditfromheadtofoot.Onitsheadithadasoftfelthat...

Itmovedaway,drawingitsfeetagainstthewallsandsometimesgivingakickintoacorner.

"Whew!"saidthePersian."We'vehadanarrowescape;thatshadeknowsmeandhastwicetakenmetothemanagers'office."

"Isitsomeonebelongingtothetheaterpolice?"askedRaoul.

"It'ssomeonemuchworsethanthat!"repliedthePersian,withoutgivinganyfurtherexplanation.[3]

"It'snot...he?"

"He?...Ifhedoesnotcomebehindus,weshallalwaysseehisyelloweyes!That is more or less our safeguard to-night. But he may come from behind,stealingup;andwearedeadmenifwedonotkeepourhandsasthoughabouttofire,atthelevelofoureyes,infront!"

ThePersianhadhardlyfinishedspeaking,whenafantasticfacecameinsight...awholefieryface,notonlytwoyelloweyes!

Yes, aheadof fire came toward them, at aman'sheight, butwithnobodyattachedtoit.Thefaceshedfire,lookedinthedarknesslikeaflameshapedasaman'sface.

"Oh,"said thePersian,betweenhis teeth."Ihaveneverseenthisbefore! ...Pampinwasnotmad,afterall:hehadseenit! ...Whatcanthatflamebe?It isnotHE,buthemayhavesent it! ...Takecare! ...Takecare!Yourhandat thelevelofyoureyes,inHeaven'sname,atthelevelofyoureyes!...knowmostofhistricks...butnotthisone...Come,letusrun...itissafer.Handatthelevelofyoureyes!"

Andtheyfleddownthelongpassagethatopenedbeforethem.

Afterafewseconds,thatseemedtothemlikelongminutes,theystopped.

"Hedoesn'toftencomethisway,"saidthePersian."Thissidehasnothingtodowithhim.Thissidedoesnotleadtothelakenortothehouseonthelake...But perhaps he knows thatwe are at his heels ... although I promised him toleavehimaloneandnevertomeddleinhisbusinessagain!"

Sosaying,heturnedhisheadandRaoulalsoturnedhishead;andtheyagainsawtheheadoffirebehindtheirtwoheads.Ithadfollowedthem.Anditmusthaverunalso,andperhapsfasterthanthey,foritseemedtobenearertothem.

Atthesametime,theybegantoperceiveacertainnoiseofwhichtheycouldnotguessthenature.Theysimplynoticedthatthesoundseemedtomoveandtoapproachwith the fiery face. Itwas a noise as though thousands of nails had

been scraped against a blackboard, the perfectly unendurable noise that issometimesmadebyalittlestoneinsidethechalkthatgratesontheblackboard.

They continued to retreat, but the fiery face cameon, cameon, gainingonthem.Theycouldseeitsfeaturesclearlynow.Theeyeswereroundandstaring,thenosealittlecrookedandthemouthlarge,withahanginglowerlip,veryliketheeyes,noseandlipofthemoon,whenthemoonisquitered,brightred.

How did that red moonmanage to glide through the darkness, at a man'sheight,withnothingtosupportit,atleastapparently?Andhowdiditgosofast,sostraightahead,withsuchstaring,staringeyes?Andwhatwasthatscratching,scraping,gratingsoundwhichitbroughtwithit?

The Persian and Raoul could retreat no farther and flattened themselvesagainst the wall, not knowing what was going to happen because of thatincomprehensibleheadoffire,andespeciallynow,becauseofthemoreintense,swarming, living, "numerous" sound, for the soundwas certainlymade up ofhundredsoflittlesoundsthatmovedinthedarkness,underthefieryface.

Andthefieryfacecameon...withitsnoise...camelevelwiththem!...

Andthetwocompanions,flatagainst theirwall,felt theirhairstandonendwithhorror,fortheynowknewwhatthethousandnoisesmeant.Theycameinatroop,hustledalongintheshadowbyinnumerablelittlehurriedwaves,swifterthanthewavesthatrushoverthesandsathightide,littlenight-wavesfoamingunderthemoon,underthefieryheadthatwaslikeamoon.Andthelittlewavespassedbetweentheirlegs,climbinguptheirlegs,irresistibly,andRaoulandthePersiancouldnolongerrestraintheircriesofhorror,dismayandpain.Norcouldthey continue to hold their hands at the level of their eyes: their hands wentdowntotheirlegstopushbackthewaves,whichwerefulloflittlelegsandnailsandclawsandteeth.

Yes,RaoulandthePersianwerereadytofaint,likePampinthefireman.Buttheheadoffireturnedroundinanswertotheircries,andspoketothem:

"Don'tmove!Don'tmove!...Whateveryoudo,don'tcomeafterme!...Iamtherat-catcher!...Letmepass,withmyrats!..."

Andtheheadoffiredisappeared,vanishedinthedarkness,whilethepassageinfrontofitlitup,astheresultofthechangewhichtherat-catcherhadmadein

hisdarklantern.Before,soasnottoscaretheratsinfrontofhim,hehadturnedhisdarklanternonhimself,lightinguphisownhead;now,tohastentheirflight,helit thedarkspaceinfrontofhim.Andhejumpedalong,draggingwithhimthewavesofscratchingrats,allthethousandsounds.

RaoulandthePersianbreathedagain,thoughstilltrembling.

"I ought to have remembered thatErik talked tome about the rat-catcher,"saidthePersian."Buthenevertoldmethathelookedlikethat...andit'sfunnythatIshouldneverhavemethimbefore...Ofcourse,Eriknevercomestothispart!"

[Illustration:twopagecolorillustration]

"Areweveryfarfromthelake,sir?"askedRaoul."Whenshallwegetthere?...Takemetothelake,oh,takemetothelake!...Whenweareatthelake,wewillcallout!...Christinewillhearus!...AndHEwillhearus,too!...And,asyouknowhim,weshalltalktohim!""Baby!"saidthePersian."Weshallneverenter thehouseon the lakeby the lake! ... Imyself havenever landedon theotherbank...thebankonwhichthehousestands....Youhavetocrossthelakefirst ... and it iswell guarded! ... I fear thatmore thanoneof thosemen—oldscene-shifters,olddoor-shutters—whohaveneverbeenseenagainweresimplytempted to cross the lake ... It is terrible ... Imyself would have been nearlykilled there ... if themonster had not recognizedme in time! ...One piece ofadvice,sir;nevergonearthelake...And,aboveall,shutyourearsifyouhearthevoicesingingunderthewater,thesiren'svoice!"

"But then, what are we here for?" asked Raoul, in a transport of fever,impatienceandrage."IfyoucandonothingforChristine,atleastletmedieforher!"ThePersiantriedtocalmtheyoungman.

"WehaveonlyonemeansofsavingChristineDaae,believeme,whichistoenterthehouseunperceivedbythemonster."

"Andisthereanyhopeofthat,sir?"

"Ah,ifIhadnotthathope,Iwouldnothavecometofetchyou!"

"Andhowcanoneenterthehouseonthelakewithoutcrossingthelake?"

"From the third cellar, fromwhichwewere so unluckily driven away.Wewillgobacktherenow...Iwilltellyou,"saidthePersian,withasuddenchangeinhisvoice,"Iwill tellyoutheexactplace,sir: it isbetweenasetpieceandadiscarded scene from ROI DE LAHORE, exactly at the spot where JosephBuquetdied...Come,sir,takecourageandfollowme!Andholdyourhandatthelevelofyoureyes!...Butwherearewe?"

The Persian lit his lamp again and flung its rays down two enormouscorridorsthatcrossedeachotheratrightangles.

"Wemustbe,"hesaid,"inthepartusedmoreparticularlyforthewaterworks.Iseenofirecomingfromthefurnaces."

HewentinfrontofRaoul,seekinghisroad,stoppingabruptlywhenhewasafraidofmeetingsomewaterman.Thentheyhadtoprotect themselvesagainsttheglowofasortofundergroundforge,whichthemenwereextinguishing,andatwhichRaoulrecognizedthedemonswhomChristinehadseenatthetimeofherfirstcaptivity.

Inthisway,theygraduallyarrivedbeneaththehugecellarsbelowthestage.They must at this time have been at the very bottom of the "tub" and at anextremelygreatdepth,whenwerememberthattheearthwasdugoutatfiftyfeetbelowthewaterthatlayunderthewholeofthatpartofParis.[4]

ThePersiantouchedapartition-wallandsaid:

"IfIamnotmistaken,thisisawallthatmighteasilybelongtothehouseonthelake."

Hewasstrikingapartition-wallofthe"tub,"andperhapsitwouldbeaswellfor the reader toknowhow thebottomand thepartition-wallsof the tubwerebuilt. In order to prevent the water surrounding the building-operations fromremaining in immediate contact with the walls supporting the whole of thetheatricalmachinery, the architectwasobliged tobuild adouble case in everydirection.Theworkofconstructing thisdoublecase tookawholeyear. ItwasthewallofthefirstinnercasethatthePersianstruckwhenspeakingtoRaoulofthehouseonthelake.Toanyoneunderstandingthearchitectureoftheedifice,the Persian's action would seem to indicate that Erik's mysterious house hadbeen built in the double case, formed of a thick wall constructed as anembankment or dam, then of a brickwall, a tremendous layer of cement and

anotherwallseveralyardsinthickness.

At the Persian's words, Raoul flung himself against the wall and listenedeagerly.Butheheardnothing...nothing...exceptdistantstepssoundingontheflooroftheupperportionsofthetheater.

ThePersiandarkenedhislanternagain.

"Look out!" he said. "Keep your hand up! And silence! For we shall tryanotherwayofgettingin."

Andheledhimtothelittlestaircasebywhichtheyhadcomedownlately.

They went up, stopping at each step, peering into the darkness and thesilence,tilltheycametothethirdcellar.HerethePersianmotionedtoRaoultogoonhisknees;and,inthisway,crawlingonbothkneesandonehand—fortheotherhandwasheldinthepositionindicated—theyreachedtheendwall.

AgainstthiswallstoodalargediscardedscenefromtheROIDELAHORE.Close to this scenewasa setpiece.Between the sceneand the setpiece therewasjustroomforabody...forabodywhichonedaywasfoundhangingthere.ThebodyofJosephBuquet.

ThePersian,stillkneeling,stoppedandlistened.Foramoment,heseemedtohesitateandlookedatRaoul;thenheturnedhiseyesupward,towardthesecondcellar,whichsentdownthefaintglimmerofalantern,throughacrannybetweentwoboards.ThisglimmerseemedtotroublethePersian.

Atlast,hetossedhisheadandmadeuphismindtoact.HeslippedbetweenthesetpieceandthescenefromtheROIDELAHORE,withRaoulcloseuponhis heels. With his free hand, the Persian felt the wall. Raoul saw him bearheavily upon the wall, just as he had pressed against the wall in Christine'sdressing-room.Thenastonegaveway,leavingaholeinthewall.

This time, the Persian took his pistol from his pocket andmade a sign toRaoultodoashedid.Hecockedthepistol.

And, resolutely, stillonhisknees,hewiggled through thehole in thewall.Raoul,whohadwishedtopassfirst,hadtobecontenttofollowhim.

Theholewasverynarrow.ThePersianstoppedalmostatonce.Raoulheardhim feeling the stones aroundhim.Then thePersian tookout his dark lanternagain, stooped forward, examined something beneath him and immediatelyextinguishedhislantern.Raoulheardhimsay,inawhisper:

"We shall have todrop a fewyards,withoutmaking anoise; takeoff yourboots."

ThePersianhandedhisownshoestoRaoul.

"Put them outside the wall," he said. "We shall find them there when weleave."[5]

Hecrawledalittlefartheronhisknees,thenturnedrightroundandsaid:

"IamgoingtohangbymyhandsfromtheedgeofthestoneandletmyselfdropINTOHISHOUSE.Youmustdoexactlythesame.Donotbeafraid.Iwillcatchyouinmyarms."

Raoulsoonheardadullsound,evidentlyproducedbythefallofthePersian,andthendroppeddown.

HefelthimselfclaspedinthePersian'sarms.

"Hush!"saidthePersian.

Andtheystoodmotionless,listening.

Thedarknesswasthickaroundthem,thesilenceheavyandterrible.

ThenthePersianbegantomakeplaywiththedarklanternagain,turningtherays over their heads, looking for the hole throughwhich they had come, andfailingtofindit:

"Oh!"hesaid."Thestonehasclosedofitself!"

Andthelightofthelanternsweptdownthewallandoverthefloor.

The Persian stooped and picked up something, a sort of cord, which heexaminedforasecondandflungawaywithhorror.

"ThePunjablasso!"hemuttered.

"Whatisit?"askedRaoul.

ThePersianshivered."Itmightverywellbetheropebywhichthemanwashanged,andwhichwaslookedforsolong."

And,suddenlyseizedwithfreshanxiety,hemoved the little reddiskofhislanternoverthewalls.Inthisway,helitupacuriousthing:thetrunkofatree,whichseemedstillquitealive,withitsleaves;andthebranchesofthattreeranrightupthewallsanddisappearedintheceiling.

Becauseofthesmallnessoftheluminousdisk,itwasdifficultatfirsttomakeouttheappearanceofthings:theysawacornerofabranch...andaleaf...andanother leaf ... and, next to it, nothing at all, nothing but the ray of light thatseemed to reflect itself ... Raoul passed his hand over that nothing, over thatreflection.

"Hullo!"hesaid."Thewallisalooking-glass!"

"Yes, a looking-glass!" said the Persian, in a tone of deep emotion. And,passingthehandthatheldthepistoloverhismoistforehead,headded,"Wehavedroppedintothetorture-chamber!"

WhatthePersianknewofthistorture-chamberandwhattherebefellhimandhiscompanionshallbetoldinhisownwords,assetdowninamanuscriptwhichheleftbehindhim,andwhichIcopyVERBATIM.

[1]M.PedroGailhardhashimself toldmethathecreatedafewadditionalpostsasdoor-shuttersforoldstage-carpenterswhomhewasunwillingtodismissfromtheserviceoftheOpera.

[2]Inthosedays,itwasstillpartofthefiremen'sdutytowatchoverthesafetyoftheOperahouseoutsidetheperformances;butthisservicehassincebeensuppressed.IaskedM.PedroGailhardthereason,andhereplied:

"Itwasbecausethemanagementwasafraidthat,intheirutterinexperienceofthecellarsoftheOpera,thefiremenmightsetfiretothebuilding!"

[3]LikethePersian,Icangivenofurtherexplanationtouchingtheapparitionofthisshade.Whereas,inthishistoricnarrative,everythingelsewillbenormallyexplained,howeverabnormalthecourseofeventsmay

seem,IcannotgivethereaderexpresslytounderstandwhatthePersianmeantbythewords,"It issomeonemuchworsethanthat!"Thereadermusttrytoguessforhimself,forIpromisedM.PedroGailhard,theformermanageroftheOpera,tokeephissecretregardingtheextremelyinterestingandusefulpersonalityofthewandering,cloakedshadewhich,whilecondemningitselftoliveinthecellarsoftheOpera,renderedsuchimmenseservicestothosewho,ongalaevenings,forinstance,venturetostrayawayfromthestage.Iamspeakingofstateservices;and,uponmywordofhonor,Icansaynomore.

[4]Allthewaterhadtobeexhausted,inthebuildingoftheOpera.Togiveanideaoftheamountofwaterthatwaspumpedup,IcantellthereaderthatitrepresentedtheareaofthecourtyardoftheLouvreandaheighthalfasdeepagainasthetowersofNotreDame.Andneverthelesstheengineershadtoleavealake.

[5]These twopairs of boots,whichwereplaced, according to thePersian's papers, just between the setpieceandthescenefromtheROIDELAHORE,onthespotwhereJosephBuquetwasfoundhanging,wereneverdiscovered.Theymusthavebeentakenbysomestage-carpenteror"door-shutter."

ChapterXXIInterestingandInstructiveVicissitudesofaPersianintheCellarsoftheOpera

THEPERSIAN'SNARRATIVE

ItwasthefirsttimethatIenteredthehouseonthelake.Ihadoftenbeggedthe "trap-door lover," as we used to call Erik in my country, to open itsmysteriousdoorstome.Healwaysrefused.Imadeverymanyattempts,butinvain,toobtainadmittance.WatchhimasImight,afterIfirstlearnedthathehadtakenuphispermanentabodeattheOpera,thedarknesswasalwaystoothicktoenablemetoseehowheworkedthedoorinthewallonthelake.Oneday,whenIthoughtmyselfalone,Isteppedintotheboatandrowedtowardthatpartofthewall through which I had seen Erik disappear. It was then that I came intocontact with the siren who guarded the approach and whose charmwas verynearlyfataltome.

IhadnosoonerputofffromthebankthanthesilenceamidwhichIfloatedon the water was disturbed by a sort of whispered singing that hovered allaroundme.Itwashalfbreath,halfmusic; it rosesoftlyfromthewatersof thelake; and Iwas surroundedby it through Iknewnotwhat artifice. It followedme,movedwithmeandwassosoftthatitdidnotalarmme.Onthecontrary,inmylongingtoapproachthesourceofthatsweetandenticingharmony,Ileanedoutofmylittleboatoverthewater,fortherewasnodoubtinmymindthatthe

singingcamefromthewateritself.Bythistime,Iwasaloneintheboatinthemiddleofthelake;thevoice—foritwasnowdistinctlyavoice—wasbesideme,onthewater.Ileanedover,leanedstillfarther.Thelakewasperfectlycalm,anda moonbeam that passed through the air hole in the Rue Scribe showed meabsolutelynothingon its surface,whichwassmoothandblackas ink. I shookmyearstogetridofapossiblehumming;butIsoonhadtoacceptthefactthattherewas no humming in the ears so harmonious as the singingwhisper thatfollowedandnowattractedme.

HadIbeeninclinedtosuperstition,IshouldhavecertainlythoughtthatIhadtodowithsomesirenwhosebusinessitwastoconfoundthetravelerwhoshouldventure on the waters of the house on the lake. Fortunately, I come from acountrywherewearetoofondoffantasticthingsnottoknowthemthroughandthrough;andIhadnodoubtbutthatIwasfacetofacewithsomenewinventionofErik's.Butthisinventionwassoperfectthat,asIleanedoutoftheboat,Iwasimpelled less by a desire to discover its trick than to enjoy its charm; and Ileanedout,leanedoutuntilIalmostoverturnedtheboat.

Suddenly, two monstrous arms issued from the bosom of the waters andseizedmebytheneck,draggingmedowntothedepthswithirresistibleforce.Ishouldcertainlyhavebeenlost,ifIhadnothadtimetogiveacrybywhichErikknewme.Foritwashe;and,insteadofdrowningme,aswascertainlyhisfirstintention,heswamwithmeandlaidmegentlyonthebank:

"How imprudent you are!" he said, as he stood before me, dripping withwater."Whytrytoentermyhouse?Ineverinvitedyou!Idon'twantyouthere,noranybody!Didyousavemylifeonlytomakeitunbearabletome?Howevergreattheserviceyourenderedhim,Erikmayendbyforgettingit;andyouknowthatnothingcanrestrainErik,notevenErikhimself."

Hespoke,butIhadnownootherwishthantoknowwhatIalreadycalledthetrickof thesiren.Hesatisfiedmycuriosity, forErik,who isa realmonster—Ihave seen him at work in Persia, alas—is also, in certain respects, a regularchild, vain and self-conceited, and there is nothing he loves so much, afterastonishingpeople,astoproveallthereallymiraculousingenuityofhismind.

Helaughedandshowedmealongreed.

"It'sthesilliesttrickyoueversaw,"hesaid,"butit'sveryusefulforbreathing

and singing in thewater. I learned it from theTonkinpirates,whoare able toremainhiddenforhoursinthebedsoftherivers."[1]

Ispoketohimseverely.

"It's a trick that nearly killedme!" I said. "And it may have been fatal toothers!Youknowwhatyoupromisedme,Erik?Nomoremurders!"

"Have I really committedmurders?"he asked,puttingonhismost amiableair.

"Wretched man!" I cried. "Have you forgotten the rosy hours ofMazenderan?"

"Yes,"hereplied,inasaddertone,"Iprefertoforgetthem.Iusedtomakethelittlesultanalaugh,though!"

"Allthatbelongstothepast,"Ideclared;"butthereisthepresent...andyouareresponsibletomeforthepresent,because,ifIhadwished,therewouldhavebeennoneatallforyou.Rememberthat,Erik:Isavedyourlife!"

And I took advantage of the turn of conversation to speak to him ofsomethingthathadlongbeenonmymind:

"Erik,"Iasked,"Erik,swearthat..."

"What?"he retorted. "YouknowIneverkeepmyoaths.Oathsaremade tocatchgullswith."

"Tellme...youcantellme,atanyrate..."

"Well?"

"Well,thechandelier...thechandelier,Erik?..."

"Whataboutthechandelier?"

"YouknowwhatImean."

"Oh," he sniggered, "I don't mind telling you about the chandelier! ... ITWASN'TI!...Thechandelierwasveryoldandworn."

WhenEriklaughed,hewasmoreterriblethanever.Hejumpedintotheboat,chucklingsohorriblythatIcouldnothelptrembling.

"Veryoldandworn,mydeardaroga![2]Veryoldandworn,thechandelier!...It fell of itself! ... It came downwith a smash! ... And now, daroga, takemyadviceandgoanddryyourself,oryou'llcatchacoldinthehead!...Andnevergetintomyboatagain...And,whateveryoudo,don'ttrytoentermyhouse:I'mnot always there ... daroga! And I should be sorry to have to dedicate myRequiemMasstoyou!"

Sosaying,swingingtoandfro,likeamonkey,andstillchuckling,hepushedoffandsoondisappearedinthedarknessofthelake.

Fromthatday,Igaveupallthoughtofpenetratingintohishousebythelake.Thatentrancewasobviously toowellguarded,especiallysincehehad learnedthatIknewaboutit.ButIfeltthattheremustbeanotherentrance,forIhadoftenseenErikdisappearinthethirdcellar,whenIwaswatchinghim,thoughIcouldnotimaginehow.

EversinceIhaddiscoveredErikinstalledintheOpera,Ilivedinaperpetualterror of his horrible fancies, not in so far as I was concerned, but I dreadedeverythingforothers.[3]

Andwheneversomeaccident,somefataleventhappened,Ialwaysthoughttomyself,"IshouldnotbesurprisedifthatwereErik,"evenasothersusedtosay,"It's the ghost!" How often have I not heard people utter that phrase with asmile!Poordevils!Iftheyhadknownthattheghostexistedintheflesh,Isweartheywouldnothavelaughed!

AlthoughErikannouncedtomeverysolemnlythathehadchangedandthathe had become the most virtuous of men SINCE HE WAS LOVED FORHIMSELF—a sentence that, at first, perplexedmemost terribly—I could nothelp shudderingwhen I thoughtof themonster.Hishorrible, unparalleled andrepulsiveuglinessputhimwithoutthepaleofhumanity;anditoftenseemedtomethat,forthisreason,henolongerbelievedthathehadanydutytowardthehuman race.Theway inwhichhe spokeofhis loveaffairsonly increasedmyalarm,forIforesawthecauseoffreshandmorehideoustragediesinthiseventtowhichhealludedsoboastfully.

On the other hand, I soon discovered the curiousmoral traffic established

betweenthemonsterandChristineDaae.Hidinginthelumber-roomnexttotheyoung prima donna's dressing-room, I listened to wonderful musical displaysthatevidentlyflungChristineintomarvelousecstasy;but,allthesame,Iwouldnever have thought that Erik's voice—which was loud as thunder or soft asangels'voices,atwill—couldhavemadeherforgethisugliness.IunderstoodallwhenIlearnedthatChristinehadnotyetseenhim!Ihadoccasiontogotothedressing-room and, remembering the lessons he had once givenme, I had nodifficultyindiscoveringthetrickthatmadethewallwiththemirrorswingroundandIascertainedthemeansofhollowbricksandsoon—bywhichhemadehisvoicecarrytoChristineasthoughshehearditclosebesideher.InthiswayalsoIdiscovered the road that led to the well and the dungeon—the Communists'dungeon—andalso the trap-door that enabledErik togo straight to thecellarsbelowthestage.

Afewdayslater,whatwasnotmyamazementtolearnbymyowneyesandears that Erik and Christine Daae saw each other and to catch the monsterstoopingoverthelittlewell,intheCommunists'roadandsprinklingtheforeheadof Christine Daae, who had fainted. A white horse, the horse out of thePROFETA, which had disappeared from the stables under the Opera, wasstandingquietlybesidethem.Ishowedmyself.Itwasterrible.Isawsparksflyfromthoseyelloweyesand,beforeIhadtimetosayaword,Ireceivedablowontheheadthatstunnedme.

WhenIcametomyself,Erik,Christineandthewhitehorsehaddisappeared.I felt sure that the poor girlwas a prisoner in the house on the lake.Withouthesitation,Iresolvedtoreturntothebank,notwithstandingtheattendantdanger.Fortwenty-fourhours,Ilayinwaitforthemonstertoappear;forIfeltthathemustgoout,drivenbytheneedofobtainingprovisions.And,inthisconnection,Imaysay,that,whenhewentoutinthestreetsorventuredtoshowhimselfinpublic,heworeapasteboardnose,withamustacheattachedtoit,insteadofhisownhorribleholeofanose.Thisdidnotquitetakeawayhiscorpse-likeair,butitmadehimalmost,Isayalmost,endurabletolookat.

Ithereforewatchedonthebankofthelakeand,wearyoflongwaiting,wasbeginningtothinkthathehadgonethroughtheotherdoor,thedoorinthethirdcellar,when I heard a slight splashing in the dark, I saw the two yellow eyesshining like candles and soon the boat touched shore. Erik jumped out andwalkeduptome:

"You'vebeenherefortwenty-fourhours,"hesaid,"andyou'reannoyingme.Itellyou,allthiswillendverybadly.Andyouwillhavebroughtituponyourself;forIhavebeenextraordinarilypatientwithyou.Youthinkyouarefollowingme,yougreatbooby,whereasit'sIwhoamfollowingyou;andIknowallthatyouknowaboutme,here. Isparedyouyesterday, inMYCOMMUNISTS'ROAD;butIwarnyou,seriously,don'tletmecatchyouthereagain!Uponmyword,youdon'tseemabletotakeahint!"

HewassofuriousthatIdidnot think,for themoment,of interruptinghim.Afterpuffingandblowinglikeawalrus,heputhishorriblethoughtintowords:

"Yes, youmust learn, once and for all—once and for all, I say—to take ahint! I tell you that,with your recklessness—for you have already been twicearrestedbytheshadeinthefelthat,whodidnotknowwhatyouweredoinginthecellarsandtookyoutothemanagers,wholookeduponyouasaneccentricPersian interested in stage mechanism and life behind the scenes: I know allaboutit,Iwasthere,intheoffice;youknowIameverywhere—well,Itellyouthat,withyourrecklessness,theywillendbywonderingwhatyouareafterhere...andtheywillendbyknowingthatyouareafterErik...andthentheywillbeafterErikthemselvesandtheywilldiscoverthehouseonthelake...Iftheydo,itwill be a bad lookout for you, old chap, a bad lookout! ... Iwon't answer foranything."

Againhepuffedandblewlikeawalrus.

"Iwon'tanswerforanything!...IfErik'ssecretsceasetobeErik'ssecrets,ITWILLBEABADLOOKOUTFORAGOODLYNUMBEROFTHEHUMANRACE!That'sallIhavetotellyou,andunlessyouareagreatbooby,itoughttobeenoughforyou...exceptthatyoudon'tknowhowtotakeahint."

Hehadsatdownonthesternofhisboatandwaskickinghisheelsagainsttheplanks,waitingtohearwhatIhadtoanswer.Isimplysaid:

"It'snotErikthatI'mafterhere!"

"Whothen?"

"YouknowaswellasIdo:it'sChristineDaae,"Ianswered.

Heretorted:"Ihaveeveryrighttoseeherinmyownhouse.Iamlovedfor

myownsake."

"That'snottrue,"Isaid."Youhavecarriedheroffandarekeepingherlockedup."

"Listen,"hesaid."Willyoupromisenevertomeddlewithmyaffairsagain,ifIprovetoyouthatIamlovedformyownsake?"

"Yes, Ipromiseyou," I replied,withouthesitation, for I felt convinced thatforsuchamonstertheproofwasimpossible.

"Well,then,it'squitesimple...ChristineDaaeshallleavethisasshepleasesandcomebackagain!...Yes,comebackagain,becauseshewishes...comebackofherself,becauseshelovesmeformyself!..."

"Oh,Idoubtifshewillcomeback!...Butitisyourdutytolethergo.""Myduty,yougreatbooby! ... It ismywish ...mywish to lethergo;andshewillcome back again ... for she lovesme! ... All this will end in amarriage ... amarriageat theMadeleine,yougreatbooby!Doyoubelievemenow?WhenItellyouthatmynuptialmassiswritten...waittillyouheartheKYRIE..."

Hebeattimewithhisheelsontheplanksoftheboatandsang:

"KYRIE!...KYRIE!...KYRIEELEISON!...Waittillyouhear,waittillyouhearthatmass."

"Lookhere,"Isaid."IshallbelieveyouifIseeChristineDaaecomeoutofthehouseonthelakeandgobacktoitofherownaccord."

"Andyouwon'tmeddleanymoreinmyaffairs?"

"No."

"Verywell, you shall see that to-night.Come to themaskedball.ChristineandIwillgoandhavealookround.Thenyoucanhideinthelumber-roomandyoushallseeChristine,whowillhavegone toherdressing-room,delighted tocomebackby theCommunists' road...And,now,beoff, for Imustgoanddosomeshopping!"

Tomyintenseastonishment,thingshappenedashehadannounced.Christine

Daae left the house on the lake and returned to it several times, without,apparently,beingforcedtodoso.Itwasverydifficultformetoclearmymindof Erik. However, I resolved to be extremely prudent, and did not make themistake of returning to the shore of the lake, or of going by theCommunists'road.But the idea of the secret entrance in the third cellar hauntedme, and Irepeatedlywent andwaited for hoursbehind a scene from theRoi deLahore,which had been left there for some reason or other. At last my patience wasrewarded. One day, I saw the monster come toward me, on his knees. I wascertain thathecouldnotseeme.Hepassedbetween thescenebehindwhich Istood and a set piece,went to thewall and pressed on a spring thatmoved astoneandaffordedhimaningress.Hepassedthroughthis,andthestoneclosedbehindhim.

Iwaited for at least thirtyminutes and then pressed the spring inmy turn.EverythinghappenedaswithErik.ButIwascarefulnottogothroughtheholemyself,forIknewthatErikwasinside.Ontheotherhand,theideathatImightbecaughtbyEriksuddenlymademethinkofthedeathofJosephBuquet.Ididnotwish to jeopardize the advantages of so great a discoverywhichmight beusefultomanypeople,"toagoodlynumberofthehumanrace,"inErik'swords;andIleftthecellarsoftheOperaaftercarefullyreplacingthestone.

I continued to be greatly interested in the relations between Erik andChristine Daae, not from any morbid curiosity, but because of the terriblethoughtwhichobsessedmymindthatErikwascapableofanything,ifheoncediscoveredthathewasnotlovedforhisownsake,asheimagined.Icontinuedtowander, very cautiously, about theOpera and soon learned the truth about themonster'sdrearylove-affair.

HefilledChristine'smind,throughtheterrorwithwhichheinspiredher,butthedearchild'sheartbelongedwholly to theVicomteRaouldeChagny.Whiletheyplayedabout, likean innocentengagedcouple,on theupper floorsof theOpera, to avoid themonster, they little suspected that someonewaswatchingoverthem.Iwaspreparedtodoanything:tokillthemonster,ifnecessary,andexplain to thepoliceafterward.ButErikdidnotshowhimself;andI feltnonethemorecomfortableforthat.

Imustexplainmywholeplan.Ithoughtthatthemonster,beingdrivenfromhishousebyjealousy,wouldthusenablemetoenterit,withoutdanger,throughthe passage in the third cellar. It was important, for everybody's sake, that I

should know exactly what was inside. One day, tired of waiting for anopportunity, I moved the stone and at once heard an astounding music: themonsterwasworkingathisDonJuanTriumphant,witheverydoorinhishousewideopen.Iknewthatthiswastheworkofhislife.Iwascarefulnottostirandremainedprudentlyinmydarkhole.

Hestoppedplaying,foramoment,andbeganwalkingabouthisplace,likeamadman.Andhesaidaloud,atthetopofhisvoice:

"ItmustbefinishedFIRST!Quitefinished!"

This speech was not calculated to reassure me and, when the musicrecommenced,Iclosedthestoneverysoftly.

OnthedayoftheabductionofChristineDaae,Ididnotcometothetheateruntilratherlateintheevening,tremblinglestIshouldhearbadnews.Ihadspenta horrible day, for, after reading in a morning paper the announcement of aforthcoming marriage between Christine and the Vicomte de Chagny, Iwonderedwhether,afterall,Ishouldnotdobettertodenouncethemonster.Butreasonreturnedtome,andIwaspersuadedthatthisactioncouldonlyprecipitateapossiblecatastrophe.

When,mycabsetmedownbeforetheOpera,Iwasreallyalmostastonishedtoseeitstillstanding!ButIamsomethingofafatalist,likeallgoodOrientals,andIenteredready,foranything.

Christine Daae's abduction in the Prison Act, which naturally surprisedeverybody, foundme prepared. I was quite certain that she had been juggledawaybyErik,thatprinceofconjurers.AndIthoughtpositivelythatthiswastheendofChristineandperhapsofeverybody,somuchsothatIthoughtofadvisingallthesepeoplewhowerestayingonatthetheatertomakegoodtheirescape.Ifelt,however,thattheywouldbesuretolookuponmeasmadandIrefrained.

On the other hand, I resolved to act without further delay, as far as I wasconcerned. The chances were in my favor that Erik, at that moment, wasthinkingonlyofhiscaptive.Thiswasthemomenttoenterhishousethroughthethird cellar; and I resolved to takewithme that poor little desperate viscount,who,at the first suggestion,accepted,withanamountofconfidence inmyselfthattouchedmeprofoundly.Ihadsentmyservantformypistols.Igaveonetothe viscount and advised him to hold himself ready to fire, for, after all, Erik

mightbewaitingforusbehindthewall.WeweretogobytheCommunists'roadandthroughthetrap-door.

Seeingmypistols, the little viscount askedme ifwewere going to fight aduel.Isaid:

"Yes;andwhataduel!"But,ofcourse,Ihadnotimetoexplainanythingtohim.Thelittleviscountisabravefellow,butheknewhardlyanythingabouthisadversary;anditwassomuchthebetter.Mygreatfearwasthathewasalreadysomewhere near us, preparing the Punjab lasso.No one knows better than hehowtothrowthePunjablasso,forheisthekingofstranglersevenasheistheprinceofconjurors.Whenhehadfinishedmakingthelittlesultanalaugh,atthetimeof the"rosyhoursofMazenderan," sheherselfused toaskhim toamuseherbygivingherathrill.ItwasthenthatheintroducedthesportofthePunjablasso.

He had lived in India and acquired an incredible skill in the art ofstrangulation. He would make them lock him into a courtyard to which theybroughtawarrior—usually,amancondemnedtodeath—armedwithalongpikeandbroadsword.Erikhadonlyhislasso;anditwasalwaysjustwhenthewarriorthoughtthathewasgoingtofellErikwithatremendousblowthatweheardthelassowhistlethroughtheair.Withaturnofthewrist,Eriktightenedthenooseround his adversary's neck and, in this fashion, dragged him before the littlesultana andherwomen,who sat looking fromawindowand applauding.Thelittlesultanaherself learned towield thePunjab lassoandkilledseveralofherwomenandevenofthefriendswhovisitedher.ButIprefertodropthisterriblesubject of the rosy hours ofMazenderan. I havementioned it only to explainwhy,onarrivingwiththeVicomtedeChagnyinthecellarsoftheOpera,Iwasboundtoprotectmycompanionagainsttheever-threateningdangerofdeathbystrangling.Mypistolscouldservenopurpose, forErikwasnot likely toshowhimself;butErikcouldalwaysstrangleus.Ihadnotimetoexplainallthistotheviscount;besides,therewasnothingtobegainedbycomplicatingtheposition.IsimplytoldM.deChagnytokeephishandatthelevelofhiseyes,withthearmbent,asthoughwaitingforthecommandtofire.Withhisvictiminthisattitude,it is impossible even for the most expert strangler to throw the lasso withadvantage. It catches you not only round the neck, but also round the arm orhand. This enables you easily to unloose the lasso, which then becomesharmless.

Afteravoidingthecommissaryofpolice,anumberofdoor-shuttersandthefiremen, after meeting the rat-catcher and passing the man in the felt hatunperceived, the viscount and I arrived without obstacle in the third cellar,betweenthesetpieceandthescenefromtheRoideLahore.Iworkedthestone,andwejumpedintothehousewhichErikhadbuilthimselfinthedoublecaseofthefoundation-wallsoftheOpera.Andthiswastheeasiestthingintheworldforhimtodo,becauseErikwasoneofthechiefcontractorsunderPhilippeGarnier,the architect of theOpera, and continued towork by himselfwhen theworkswereofficiallysuspended,duringthewar,thesiegeofParisandtheCommune.

IknewmyEriktoowelltofeelatallcomfortableonjumpingintohishouse.I knewwhat he hadmade of a certain palace atMazenderan. Frombeing themost honest building conceivable, he soon turned it into a house of the verydevil,whereyoucouldnotutterawordbutitwasoverheardorrepeatedbyanecho.Withhistrap-doorsthemonsterwasresponsibleforendlesstragediesofallkinds.Hehituponastonishing inventions.Of these, themost curious,horribleanddangerouswastheso-calledtorture-chamber.Exceptinspecialcases,whenthe little sultanaamusedherselfby inflictingsufferinguponsomeunoffendingcitizen,noonewasletintoitbutwretchescondemnedtodeath.And,eventhen,when these had "had enough," they were always at liberty to put an end tothemselveswithaPunjablassoorbowstring,leftfortheiruseatthefootofanirontree.

Myalarm, therefore,wasgreatwhen I saw that the room intowhichM. leVicomtedeChagnyandIhaddroppedwasanexactcopyofthetorture-chamberoftherosyhoursofMazenderan.Atourfeet,IfoundthePunjablassowhichIhadbeendreading all the evening. Iwas convinced that this ropehad alreadydone duty for Joseph Buquet, who, like myself, must have caught Erik oneeveningworkingthestoneinthethirdcellar.Heprobablytrieditinhisturn,fellinto the torture-chamber and only left it hanged. I can well imagine Erikdraggingthebody,inordertogetridofit,tothescenefromtheRoideLahore,and hanging it there as an example, or to increase the superstitious terror thatwas tohelphim inguarding the approaches tohis lair!Then, upon reflection,Erikwentback to fetch thePunjab lasso,which isverycuriouslymadeoutofcatgut, and which might have set an examining magistrate thinking. Thisexplainsthedisappearanceoftherope.

AndnowIdiscoveredthelasso,atourfeet, inthetorture-chamber! ...Iamnocoward,butacoldsweatcoveredmyforeheadasImovedthelittlereddisk

ofmylanternoverthewalls.

M.deChagnynoticeditandasked:

"Whatisthematter,sir?"

Imadehimaviolentsigntobesilent.

[1]AnofficialreportfromTonkin,receivedinParisattheendofJuly,1909,relateshowthefamouspiratechief De Thamwas tracked, togetherwith hismen, by our soldiers; and how all of them succeeded inescaping,thankstothistrickofthereeds.

[2]DAROGAisPersianforchiefofpolice.

[3]ThePersianmighteasilyhaveadmittedthatErik'sfatealsointerestedhimself,forhewaswellawarethat,ifthegovernmentofTeheranhadlearnedthatErikwasstillalive,itwouldhavebeenallupwiththemodestpensionof theerstwhiledaroga. It isonly fair,however, toadd that thePersianhadanobleandgenerousheart;andIdonotdoubt foramoment that thecatastropheswhichhefearedforothersgreatlyoccupiedhismind.Hisconduct,throughoutthisbusiness,provesitandisaboveallpraise.

ChapterXXIIIntheTortureChamber

THEPERSIAN'SNARRATIVECONTINUED

Wewereinthemiddleofalittlesix-corneredroom,thesidesofwhichwerecoveredwithmirrorsfromtoptobottom.Inthecorners,wecouldclearlyseethe"joins" in the glasses, the segments intended to turn on their gear; yes, IrecognizedthemandIrecognizedtheirontreeinthecorner,atthebottomofoneofthosesegments...theirontree,withitsironbranch,forthehangedmen.

Iseizedmycompanion'sarm:theVicomtedeChagnywasalla-quiver,eagertoshouttohisbetrothedthathewasbringingherhelp.Ifearedthathewouldnotbeabletocontainhimself.

Suddenly,weheardanoiseonourleft.Itsoundedatfirstlikeadooropening

andshuttinginthenextroom;andthentherewasadullmoan.IclutchedM.deChagny'sarmmorefirmlystill;andthenwedistinctlyheardthesewords:

"Youmustmake your choice! Theweddingmass or the requiemmass!" Irecognizedthevoiceofthemonster.

Therewasanothermoan,followedbyalongsilence.

Iwaspersuadedbynowthatthemonsterwasunawareofourpresenceinhishouse,forotherwisehewouldcertainlyhavemanagednottoletushearhim.Hewould only have had to close the little invisible window through which thetorture-loverslookdownintothetorture-chamber.Besides,Iwascertainthat,ifhehadknownofourpresence,thetortureswouldhavebegunatonce.

Theimportantthingwasnottolethimknow;andIdreadednothingsomuchastheimpulsivenessoftheVicomtedeChagny,whowantedtorushthroughthewallstoChristineDaae,whosemoanswecontinuedtohearatintervals.

"The requiem mass is not at all gay," Erik's voice resumed, "whereas theweddingmass—youcantakemywordforit—ismagnificent!Youmusttakearesolutionandknowyourownmind!Ican'tgoonlivinglikethis,likeamoleina burrow! Don Juan Triumphant is finished; and now I want to live likeeverybodyelse.IwanttohaveawifelikeeverybodyelseandtotakeheroutonSundays.Ihaveinventedamaskthatmakesmelooklikeanybody.Peoplewillnoteventurnroundinthestreets.Youwillbethehappiestofwomen.Andwewillsing,allbyourselves,tillweswoonawaywithdelight.Youarecrying!Youareafraidofme!AndyetIamnotreallywicked.Lovemeandyoushallsee!AllIwantedwastobelovedformyself.IfyoulovedmeIshouldbeasgentleasalamb;andyoucoulddoanythingwithmethatyoupleased."

Soon the moans that accompanied this sort of love's litany increased andincreased.Ihaveneverheardanythingmoredespairing;andM.deChagnyandIrecognized that this terrible lamentation came from Erik himself. Christineseemedtobestandingdumbwithhorror,withoutthestrengthtocryout,whilethemonsterwasonhiskneesbeforeher.

Threetimesover,Erikfiercelybewailedhisfate:

"Youdon'tloveme!Youdon'tloveme!Youdon'tloveme!"

Andthen,moregently:

"Whydoyoucry?Youknowitgivesmepaintoseeyoucry!"

Asilence.

Eachsilencegaveusfreshhope.Wesaidtoourselves:

"PerhapshehasleftChristinebehindthewall."

And we thought only of the possibility of warning Christine Daae of ourpresence,unknowntothemonster.Wewereunabletoleavethetorture-chambernow,unlessChristineopened thedoor tous;and itwasonlyon thisconditionthatwecouldhopetohelpher,forwedidnotevenknowwherethedoormightbe.

Suddenly, the silence in the next roomwas disturbed by the ringing of anelectricbell.TherewasaboundontheothersideofthewallandErik'svoiceofthunder:

"Somebodyringing!Walkin,please!"

Asinisterchuckle.

"Whohascomebotheringnow?Waitformehere...IAMGOINGTOTELLTHESIRENTOOPENTHEDOOR."

Stepsmovedaway,adoorclosed.Ihadnotimetothinkofthefreshhorrorthat was preparing; I forgot that the monster was only going out perhaps toperpetrateafreshcrime;Iunderstoodbutonething:Christinewasalonebehindthewall!

TheVicomtedeChagnywasalreadycallingtoher:

"Christine!Christine!"

Aswecouldhearwhatwassaidinthenextroom,therewasnoreasonwhymycompanionshouldnotbeheardinhisturn.Nevertheless,theviscounthadtorepeathiscrytimeaftertime.

Atlast,afaintvoicereachedus.

"Iamdreaming!"itsaid.

"Christine,Christine,itisI,Raoul!"

Asilence.

"But answerme, Christine! ... InHeaven's name, if you are alone, answerme!"

ThenChristine'svoicewhisperedRaoul'sname.

"Yes!Yes!ItisI!Itisnotadream!...Christine,trustme!...Weareheretosaveyou...butbeprudent!Whenyouhearthemonster,warnus!"

Then Christine gave way to fear. She trembled lest Erik should discoverwhereRaoulwashidden;shetoldusinafewhurriedwordsthatErikhadgonequite mad with love and that he had decided TOKILL EVERYBODYANDHIMSELFWITHEVERYBODYifshedidnotconsenttobecomehiswife.Hehadgivenher tilleleveno'clock thenexteveningforreflection. Itwas the lastrespite.Shemustchoose,ashesaid,betweentheweddingmassandtherequiem.

AndErikhadthenutteredaphrasewhichChristinedidnotquiteunderstand:

"Yesorno!Ifyouranswerisno,everybodywillbedeadANDBURIED!"

But I understood the sentence perfectly, for it corresponded in a terriblemannerwithmyowndreadfulthought.

"CanyoutelluswhereErikis?"Iasked.

Sherepliedthathemusthaveleftthehouse.

"Couldyoumakesure?"

"No.Iamfastened.Icannotstiralimb."

Whenweheardthis,M.deChagnyandIgaveayelloffury.Oursafety,thesafetyofallthreeofus,dependedonthegirl'slibertyofmovement.

"Butwhereareyou?"askedChristine."Thereareonlytwodoorsinmyroom,theLouis-PhilipperoomofwhichItoldyou,Raoul;adoorthroughwhichErikcomesandgoes,andanotherwhichhehasneveropenedbeforemeandwhichhehasforbiddenmeevertogothrough,becausehesaysitisthemostdangerousofthedoors,thedoorofthetorture-chamber!"

"Christine,thatiswhereweare!"

"Youareinthetorture-chamber?"

"Yes,butwecannotseethedoor."

"Oh, if Icouldonlydragmyselfsofar! Iwouldknockat thedoorand thatwouldtellyouwhereitis."

"Isitadoorwithalocktoit?"Iasked.

"Yes,withalock."

"Mademoiselle,"Isaid,"itisabsolutelynecessary,thatyoushouldopenthatdoortous!"

"Buthow?"askedthepoorgirltearfully.

Weheardherstraining,tryingtofreeherselffromthebondsthatheldher.

"Iknowwherethekeyis,"shesaid,inavoicethatseemedexhaustedbytheeffortshehadmade."ButIamfastenedsotight...Oh,thewretch!"

Andshegaveasob.

"Where is thekey?" I asked, signing toM.deChagnynot to speak and toleavethebusinesstome,forwehadnotamomenttolose.

"In thenext room,near theorgan,with another little bronzekey,whichhealsoforbademetotouch.Theyarebothinalittleleatherbagwhichhecallsthebagoflifeanddeath...Raoul!Raoul!Fly!Everythingismysteriousandterriblehere, and Erik will soon have gone quite mad, and you are in the torture-chamber! ...Go back by theway you came. Theremust be a reasonwhy theroomiscalledbythatname!"

"Christine," said the young man. "We will go from here together or dietogether!"

"Wemustkeepcool,"Iwhispered."Whyhashefastenedyou,mademoiselle?Youcan'tescapefromhishouse;andheknowsit!"

"Itriedtocommitsuicide!Themonsterwentoutlastnight,aftercarryingmehere fainting and half chloroformed.Hewas going TOHISBANKER, so hesaid!...Whenhereturnedhefoundmewithmyfacecoveredwithblood...Ihadtriedtokillmyselfbystrikingmyforeheadagainstthewalls."

"Christine!"groanedRaoul;andhebegantosob.

"Thenheboundme...Iamnotallowedtodieuntileleveno'clockto-morrowevening."

"Mademoiselle," Ideclared,"themonsterboundyou ...andheshallunbindyou.Youhaveonlytoplaythenecessarypart!Rememberthathelovesyou!"

"Alas!"weheard."AmIlikelytoforgetit!"

"Rememberitandsmiletohim...entreathim...tellhimthatyourbondshurtyou."

ButChristineDaaesaid:

"Hush!...Ihearsomethinginthewallonthelake!...Itishe!...Goaway!Goaway!Goaway!"

"Wecouldnotgoaway,even ifwewanted to," I said,as impressivelyas Icould."Wecannotleavethis!Andweareinthetorture-chamber!"

"Hush!"whisperedChristineagain.

Heavystepssoundedslowlybehindthewall,thenstoppedandmadethefloorcreakoncemore.Nextcameatremendoussigh,followedbyacryofhorrorfromChristine,andweheardErik'svoice:

"Ibegyourpardonforlettingyouseeafacelikethis!WhatastateIamin,amInot?It'sTHEOTHERONE'SFAULT!Whydidhering?DoIaskpeople

whopasstotellmethetime?Hewillneveraskanybodythetimeagain!Itisthesiren'sfault."

[Illustration:twopagecolorillustration]

Anothersigh,deeper,more tremendousstill,camefromtheabysmaldepthsofasoul.

"Whydidyoucryout,Christine?"

"BecauseIaminpain,Erik."

"IthoughtIhadfrightenedyou."

"Erik,unloosemybonds...AmInotyourprisoner?"

"Youwilltrytokillyourselfagain."

"Youhavegivenmetilleleveno'clockto-morrowevening,Erik."

Thefootstepsdraggedalongtheflooragain.

"Afterall,aswearetodietogether...andIamjustaseagerasyou...yes,Ihavehadenoughofthislife,youknow...Wait,don'tmove,Iwillreleaseyou...You have only one word to say: 'NO!' And it will at once be over WITHEVERYBODY!...Youareright,youareright;whywaittilleleveno'clockto-morrowevening?True,itwouldhavebeengrander,finer...Butthatischildishnonsense...Weshouldonlythinkofourselvesinthislife,ofourowndeath...the rest doesn'tmatter... YOU'RE LOOKINGATMEBECAUSE IAMALLWET? ... Oh,my dear, it's raining cats and dogs outside! ... Apart from that,Christine,IthinkIamsubjecttohallucinations...Youknow,themanwhorangat the siren's door just now—go and look if he's ringing at the bottom of thelake-well, hewas rather like... There, turn round ... are you glad?You're freenow...Oh,mypoorChristine,lookatyourwrists:tellme,haveIhurtthem?...Thatalonedeservesdeath...Talkingofdeath,IMUSTSINGHISREQUIEM!"

Hearingtheseterribleremarks,Ireceivedanawfulpresentiment...Itoohadoncerungatthemonster'sdoor...and,withoutknowingit,musthavesetsomewarningcurrentinmotion.

And I remembered the two arms that had emerged from the inkywaters...Whatpoorwretchhadstrayedtothatshorethistime?Whowas'theotherone,'theonewhoserequiemwenowheardsung?

Eriksanglikethegodofthunder,sangaDIESIRAEthatenvelopedusasina storm.The elements seemed to rage aroundus. Suddenly, the organ and thevoiceceasedsosuddenly thatM.deChagnysprangback,on theothersideofthe wall, with emotion. And the voice, changed and transformed, distinctlygrated out these metallic syllables: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONEWITH MYBAG?"

ChapterXXIIITheTorturesBegin

THEPERSIAN'SNARRATIVECONTINUED.

Thevoicerepeatedangrily:"Whathaveyoudonewithmybag?Soitwastotakemybagthatyouaskedmetoreleaseyou!"

Weheardhurriedsteps,Christine runningback to theLouis-Philippe room,asthoughtoseekshelterontheothersideofourwall.

"What are you running away for?" asked the furious voice, which hadfollowedher."Givemebackmybag,willyou?Don'tyouknowthatitisthebagoflifeanddeath?"

"Listen to me, Erik," sighed the girl. "As it is settled that we are to livetogether...whatdifferencecanitmaketoyou?"

"Youknow there are only twokeys in it," said themonster. "What do youwanttodo?"

"Iwant to look at this roomwhich I have never seen andwhich you havealwayskept fromme ... It'swoman's curiosity!" she said, in a tonewhich shetriedtorenderplayful.

ButthetrickwastoochildishforEriktobetakeninbyit.

"Idon'tlikecuriouswomen,"heretorted,"andyouhadbetterrememberthestoryofBLUE-BEARDandbecareful...Come,givemebackmybag!...Givemebackmybag!...Leavethekeyalone,willyou,youinquisitivelittlething?"

And he chuckled, while Christine gave a cry of pain. Erik had evidentlyrecoveredthebagfromher.

At that moment, the viscount could not help uttering an exclamation ofimpotentrage.

"Why,what'sthat?"saidthemonster."Didyouhear,Christine?"

"No,no,"repliedthepoorgirl."Iheardnothing."

"IthoughtIheardacry."

"Acry!Areyougoingmad,Erik?Whomdoyouexpecttogiveacry,inthishouse?...Icriedout,becauseyouhurtme!Iheardnothing."

"Idon'tlikethewayyousaidthat!...You'retrembling...You'requiteexcited...You'relying!...Thatwasacry,therewasacry!...Thereissomeoneinthetorture-chamber!...Ah,Iunderstandnow!"

"Thereisnoonethere,Erik!"

"Iunderstand!"

"Noone!"

"Themanyouwanttomarry,perhaps!"

"Idon'twanttomarryanybody,youknowIdon't."

Another nasty chuckle. "Well, itwon't take long to find out.Christine,mylove,weneednotopenthedoortoseewhatishappeninginthetorture-chamber.Wouldyouliketosee?Wouldyouliketosee?Lookhere!Ifthereissomeone,ifthereisreallysomeonethere,youwillseetheinvisiblewindowlightupatthetop,neartheceiling.Weneedonlydrawtheblackcurtainandputoutthelightinhere.There,that'sit...Let'sputoutthelight!You'renotafraidofthedark,whenyou'rewithyourlittlehusband!"

ThenweheardChristine'svoiceofanguish:

"No! ... I'm frightened! ... I tell you, I'm afraid of the dark! ... I don't careabout that room now ...You're always frighteningme, like a child,with yourtorture-chamber!...AndsoIbecameinquisitive...ButIdon'tcareaboutitnow...notabit...notabit!"

And that which I feared above all things began, AUTOMATICALLY.Wewere suddenly flooded with light! Yes, on our side of the wall, everythingseemed aglow. The Vicomte de Chagny was so much taken aback that hestaggered.Andtheangryvoiceroared:

"I toldyou therewassomeone!Doyousee thewindownow?The lighted

window,rightupthere?Themanbehindthewallcan'tseeit!Butyoushallgoupthefoldingsteps:thatiswhattheyaretherefor!...Youhaveoftenaskedmetotellyou;andnowyouknow!...Theyaretheretogiveapeepintothetorture-chamber...youinquisitivelittlething!"

"What tortures? ...Who is being tortured? ... Erik, Erik, say you are onlytryingtofrightenme!...Sayit,ifyouloveme,Erik!...Therearenotortures,arethere?"

"Goandlookatthelittlewindow,dear!"

Idonotknowiftheviscountheardthegirl'sswooningvoice,forhewastoomuch occupied by the astounding spectacle that now appeared before hisdistracted gaze. As for me, I had seen that sight too often, through the littlewindow,atthetimeoftherosyhoursofMazenderan;andIcaredonlyforwhatwasbeingsaidnextdoor,seekingforahinthowtoact,whatresolutiontotake.

"Goandpeepthroughthelittlewindow!Tellmewhathelookslike!"

Weheardthestepsbeingdraggedagainstthewall.

"Upwithyou!...No!...No,Iwillgoupmyself,dear!"

"Oh,verywell,Iwillgoup.Letmego!"

"Oh,mydarling,mydarling! ...Howsweetofyou! ...Howniceofyou tosavemetheexertionatmyage!...Tellmewhathelookslike!"

Atthatmoment,wedistinctlyheardthesewordsaboveourheads:

"Thereisnoonethere,dear!"

"Noone?...Areyousurethereisnoone?"

"Why,ofcoursenot...noone!"

"Well, that's all right! ...What's thematter, Christine?You're not going tofaint,areyou...asthereisnoonethere?...Here...comedown...there!...Pullyourselftogether...asthereisnoonethere!...BUTHOWDOYOULIKETHELANDSCAPE?"

"Oh,verymuch!"

"There, that's better! ... You're better now, are you not? ... That's all right,you're better! ... No excitement! ... And what a funny house, isn't it, withlandscapeslikethatinit?"

"Yes, it's like theMuseeGrevin ...But, say,Erik ... thereareno tortures inthere!...Whatafrightyougaveme!"

"Why...asthereisnoonethere?"

"Didyoudesignthatroom?It'sveryhandsome.You'reagreatartist,Erik."

"Yes,agreatartist,inmyownline."

"Buttellme,Erik,whydidyoucallthatroomthetorture-chamber?"

"Oh,it'sverysimple.Firstofall,whatdidyousee?"

"Isawaforest."

"Andwhatisinaforest?"

"Trees."

"Andwhatisinatree?"

"Birds."

"Didyouseeanybirds?"

"No,Ididnotseeanybirds."

"Well, what did you see? Think! You saw branches And what are thebranches?"asked the terriblevoice. "THERE'SAGIBBET!That iswhy Icallmywoodthetorture-chamber!...Yousee,it'sallajoke.Ineverexpressmyselflikeotherpeople.ButIamverytiredofit!...I'msickandtiredofhavingaforestandatorture-chamberinmyhouseandoflivinglikeamountebank,inahousewith a false bottom! ... I'm tired of it! I want to have a nice, quiet flat, withordinary doors and windows and a wife inside it, like anybody else! A wifewhomIcouldloveandtakeoutonSundaysandkeepamusedonweek-days...

Here,shallIshowyousomecard-tricks?Thatwillhelpustopassafewminutes,whilewaitingforeleveno'clockto-morrowevening...MydearlittleChristine!...Areyoulisteningtome?...Tellmeyouloveme!...No,youdon'tloveme...butnomatter,youwill! ...Once,youcouldnot lookatmymaskbecauseyouknewwhatwasbehind...Andnowyoudon'tmindlookingat itandyouforgetwhat isbehind! ...Onecangetused toeverything ... ifonewishes...Plentyofyoungpeoplewhodidnotcareforeachotherbeforemarriagehaveadoredeachothersince!Oh,Idon'tknowwhatIamtalkingabout!Butyouwouldhavelotsoffunwithme.Forinstance,Iamthegreatestventriloquistthateverlived,Iamthe first ventriloquist in the world! ... You're laughing ... Perhaps you don'tbelieveme?Listen."

The wretch, who really was the first ventriloquist in the world, was onlytryingtodivertthechild'sattentionfromthetorture-chamber;butitwasastupidscheme,forChristinethoughtofnothingbutus!Sherepeatedlybesoughthim,inthegentlesttoneswhichshecouldassume:

"Putoutthelightinthelittlewindow!...Erik,doputoutthelightinthelittlewindow!"

For she saw that this light, which appeared so suddenly and of which themonster had spoken in so threatening a voice, must mean something terrible.Onethingmusthavepacifiedherforamoment;andthatwasseeingthetwoofus,behindthewall,inthemidstofthatresplendentlight,aliveandwell.Butshewouldcertainlyhavefeltmucheasierifthelighthadbeenputout.

Meantime,theotherhadalreadybeguntoplaytheventriloquist.Hesaid:

"Here,Iraisemymaskalittle...Oh,onlyalittle!...Youseemylips,suchlips as I have?They're notmoving! ...Mymouth is closed—suchmouth as Ihave—andyetyouhearmyvoice...Wherewillyouhaveit?Inyourleftear?Inyourrightear?In the table?In those littleebonyboxeson themantelpiece? ...Listen, dear, it's in the little box on the right of themantelpiece:what does itsay?'SHALLITURNTHESCORPION?'...Andnow,crack!Whatdoesitsayin the littleboxon the left? 'SHALLITURNTHEGRASSHOPPER?' ...Andnow,crack!Hereit is inthelittle leatherbag...Whatdoesitsay? 'IAMTHELITTLEBAGOFLIFEANDDEATH!' ...And now, crack! It is inCarlotta'sthroat, in Carlotta's golden throat, in Carlotta's crystal throat, as I live!Whatdoesitsay?Itsays,'It'sI,Mr.Toad,it'sIsinging!IFEELWITHOUTALARM

—CO-ACK—WITH ITSMELODY ENWINDME—CO-ACK!' ... And now,crack!Itisonachairintheghost'sboxanditsays,'MADAMECARLOTTAISSINGINGTO-NIGHTTOBRINGTHECHANDELIERDOWN!'...Andnow,crack!Aha!WhereisErik'svoicenow?Listen,Christine,darling!Listen!It isbehind the door of the torture-chamber! Listen! It's myself in the torture-chamber!AndwhatdoIsay?Isay,'Woetothemthathaveanose,arealnose,andcometolookroundthetorture-chamber!Aha,aha,aha!'"

Oh, the ventriloquist's terrible voice! It was everywhere, everywhere. Itpassed through the little invisiblewindow, through thewalls. It ranaroundus,betweenus.Erikwasthere,speakingtous!Wemadeamovementasthoughtoflingourselvesuponhim.But,already,swifter,morefleeting than thevoiceoftheecho,Erik'svoicehadleapedbackbehindthewall!

Soonweheardnothingmoreatall,forthisiswhathappened:

"Erik!Erik!"saidChristine'svoice."You tiremewithyourvoice.Don'tgoon,Erik!Isn'titveryhothere?"

"Oh,yes,"repliedErik'svoice,"theheatisunendurable!"

"Butwhatdoesthismean?...Thewallisreallygettingquitehot!...Thewallisburning!"

"I'lltellyou,Christine,dear:itisbecauseoftheforestnextdoor."

"Well,whathasthattodowithit?Theforest?"

"WHY,DIDN'TYOUSEETHATITWASANAFRICANFOREST?"

And themonster laughed so loudly and hideously thatwe could no longerdistinguishChristine's supplicatingcries!TheVicomtedeChagnyshoutedandbangedagainstthewallslikeamadman.Icouldnotrestrainhim.Butweheardnothingexcept themonster's laughter, and themonsterhimselfcanhaveheardnothingelse.And then therewas the soundof abody fallingon the floor andbeingdraggedalongandadoorslammedandthennothing,nothingmorearoundussavethescorchingsilenceofthesouthintheheartofatropicalforest!

ChapterXXIV"Barrels!...Barrels!...AnyBarrelstoSell?"

THEPERSIAN'SNARRATIVECONTINUED

I have said that the room in whichM. le Vicomte de Chagny and I wereimprisonedwasa regularhexagon, linedentirelywithmirrors.Plentyof theseroomshavebeen seen since,mainlyat exhibitions: theyare called "palacesofillusion," or some suchname.But the invention belongs entirely toErik,whobuiltthefirstroomofthiskindundermyeyes,atthetimeoftherosyhoursofMazenderan.Adecorativeobject,suchasacolumn,forinstance,wasplacedinoneofthecornersandimmediatelyproducedahallofathousandcolumns;for,thankstothemirrors,therealroomwasmultipliedbysixhexagonalrooms,eachofwhich,initsturn,wasmultipliedindefinitely.Butthelittlesultanasoontiredof this infantile illusion,whereupon Erik altered his invention into a "torture-chamber." For the architecturalmotive placed in one corner, he substituted aniron tree.This tree,with itspainted leaves,wasabsolutely true to lifeandwasmadeofironsoastoresistalltheattacksofthe"patient"whowaslockedintothetorture-chamber.Weshallseehowthescenethusobtainedwastwicealteredinstantaneously into two successive other scenes, by means of the automaticrotation of the drums or rollers in the corners. These were divided into threesections,fittinginto theanglesof themirrorsandeachsupportingadecorativeschemethatcameintosightastherollerrevolveduponitsaxis.

The walls of this strange room gave the patient nothing to lay hold of,because,apartfromthesoliddecorativeobject,theyweresimplyfurnishedwithmirrors, thickenoughtowithstandanyonslaughtof thevictim,whowasflungintothechamberempty-handedandbarefoot.

Therewasnofurniture.Theceilingwascapableofbeinglitup.Aningenioussystem of electric heating, which has since been imitated, allowed thetemperatureofthewallsandroomtobeincreasedatwill.

Iamgivingallthesedetailsofaperfectlynaturalinvention,producing,withafew painted branches, the supernatural illusion of an equatorial forest blazingunderthetropicalsun,sothatnoonemaydoubtthepresentbalanceofmybrainorfeelentitledtosaythatIammadorlyingorthatItakehimforafool.[1]

Inowreturn to the factswhere I left them.When theceiling litupand theforestbecamevisiblearoundus,theviscount'sstupefactionwasimmense.Thatimpenetrableforest,withitsinnumerabletrunksandbranches,threwhimintoaterriblestateofconsternation.Hepassedhishandsoverhisforehead,asthoughtodriveawayadream;hiseyesblinked;and,foramoment,heforgottolisten.

Ihavealreadysaidthatthesightoftheforestdidnotsurprisemeatall;andtherefore I listenedfor the twoofus towhatwashappeningnextdoor.Lastly,myattentionwasespeciallyattracted,notsomuchtothescene,astothemirrorsthatproducedit.Thesemirrorswerebrokeninparts.Yes,theyweremarkedandscratched; theyhadbeen"starred," inspiteof theirsolidity;and thisproved tomethatthetorture-chamberinwhichwenowwereHADALREADYSERVEDAPURPOSE.

Yes,somewretch,whosefeetwerenotbarelikethoseof thevictimsof therosy hours ofMazenderan, had certainly fallen into this "mortal illusion" and,madwithrage,hadkickedagainstthosemirrorswhich,nevertheless,continuedtoreflecthisagony.Andthebranchofthetreeonwhichhehadputanendtohisownsufferingswasarrangedinsuchawaythat,beforedying,hehadseen,forhislastconsolation,athousandmenwrithinginhiscompany.

Yes,JosephBuquethadundoubtedlybeenthroughallthis!Werewetodieashehaddone?Ididnotthinkso,forIknewthatwehadafewhoursbeforeusandthatIcouldemploythemtobetterpurposethanJosephBuquetwasabletodo.Afterall,IwasthoroughlyacquaintedwithmostofErik's"tricks;"andnoworneverwasthetimetoturnmyknowledgetoaccount.

To begin with, I gave up every idea of returning to the passage that hadbrought us to that accursed chamber. I did not trouble about the possibility ofworkingtheinsidestonethatclosedthepassage;andthisforthesimplereasonthat todosowasoutof thequestion.Wehaddroppedfromtoogreataheightinto the torture-chamber; therewasno furniture to helpus reach that passage;noteventhebranchoftheirontree,noteveneachother'sshoulderswereofanyavail.

There was only one possible outlet, that opening into the Louis-PhilipperoominwhichErikandChristineDaaewere.But,thoughthisoutletlookedlikeanordinarydooronChristine'sside, itwasabsolutelyinvisibletous.Wemustthereforetrytoopenitwithoutevenknowingwhereitwas.

WhenIwasquitesure that therewasnohopeforus fromChristineDaae'sside, when I had heard the monster dragging the poor girl from the Louis-PhilipperoomLESTSHESHOULDINTERFEREWITHOURTORTURES,Iresolvedtosettoworkwithoutdelay.

ButIhadfirsttocalmM.deChagny,whowasalreadywalkingaboutlikeamadman,uttering incoherentcries.Thesnatchesofconversationwhichhehadcaught betweenChristine and themonster had contributed not a little to drivehimbesidehimself:addtothattheshockofthemagicforestandthescorchingheat which was beginning to make the prespiration{sic} stream down histemplesandyouwillhavenodifficulty inunderstandinghisstateofmind.HeshoutedChristine'sname,brandishedhispistol,knockedhisforeheadagainsttheglassinhisendeavorstorundownthegladesoftheillusiveforest.Inshort,thetorturewasbeginningtoworkitsspelluponabrainunpreparedforit.

I didmy best to induce the poor viscount to listen to reason. I made himtouch themirrors and the iron tree and thebranches and explained tohim,byoptical laws, all the luminous imagery by which we were surrounded and ofwhich we need not allow ourselves to be the victims, like ordinary, ignorantpeople.

"We are in a room, a little room; that is what you must keep saying toyourself.Andweshallleavetheroomassoonaswehavefoundthedoor."

AndIpromisedhimthat,ifheletmeact,withoutdisturbingmebyshoutingandwalkingupanddown,Iwoulddiscoverthetrickofthedoorinlessthananhour'stime.

Then he lay flat on the floor, as one does in awood, and declared that hewouldwaituntilIfoundthedooroftheforest,astherewasnothingbettertodo!Andheaddedthat,fromwherehewas,"theviewwassplendid!"Thetorturewasworking,inspiteofallthatIhadsaid.

Myself,forgettingtheforest,Itackledaglasspanelandbegantofingeritineverydirection,huntingfortheweakpointonwhichtopressinordertoturnthedoor in accordance with Erik's system of pivots. This weak pointmight be amerespeckontheglass,nolargerthanapea,underwhichthespringlayhidden.Ihuntedandhunted.Ifeltashighasmyhandscouldreach.Erikwasaboutthesameheight asmyself and I thought thathewouldnothaveplaced the spring

higherthansuitedhisstature.

Whilegropingoverthesuccessivepanelswiththegreatestcare,Iendeavorednot to loseaminute, for Iwas feelingmoreandmoreovercomewith theheatandwewereliterallyroastinginthatblazingforest.

Ihadbeenworking like this forhalfanhourandhadfinished threepanels,when, as ill-luck would have it, I turned round on hearing a mutteredexclamationfromtheviscount.

"Iamstifling,"hesaid."All thosemirrorsaresendingoutan infernalheat!Doyouthinkyouwillfindthatspringsoon?Ifyouaremuchlongeraboutit,weshallberoastedalive!"

Iwasnotsorrytohearhimtalklikethis.Hehadnotsaidawordoftheforestand I hoped that my companion's reason would hold out some time longeragainstthetorture.Butheadded:

"What consolesme is that themonster has givenChristine until eleven to-morrowevening.Ifwecan'tgetoutofhereandgotoherassistance,atleastweshallbedeadbeforeher!ThenErik'smasscanserveforallofus!"

Andhegulpeddownabreathofhotairthatnearlymadehimfaint.

AsIhadnotthesamedesperatereasonsasM.leVicomteforacceptingdeath,I returned, after giving him aword of encouragement, tomy panel, but I hadmadethemistakeoftakingafewstepswhilespeakingand,inthetangleoftheillusiveforest,Iwasnolongerabletofindmypanelforcertain!Ihadtobeginalloveragain,atrandom,feeling,fumbling,groping.

Nowthefeverlaidholdofmeinmyturn...forIfoundnothing,absolutelynothing. In the next room, all was silence. We were quite lost in the forest,withoutanoutlet,acompass,aguideoranything.Oh,Iknewwhatawaitedusifnobodycametoouraid...orifIdidnotfindthespring!But,lookasImight,Ifoundnothingbutbranches,beautifulbranchesthatstoodstraightupbeforeme,orspreadgracefullyovermyhead.Buttheygavenoshade.Andthiswasnaturalenough,aswewereinanequatorialforest,withthesunrightaboveourheads,anAfricanforest.

M.deChagnyandIhadrepeatedlytakenoffourcoatsandputthemonagain,

finding at one time that theymadeus feel still hotter and at another that theyprotectedus against theheat. Iwas stillmaking amoral resistance, butM.deChagnyseemedtomequite"gone."Hepretendedthathehadbeenwalking inthat forest for three days and nights, without stopping, looking for ChristineDaae!Fromtime to time,he thoughthesawherbehind the trunkofa tree,orglidingbetween thebranches; andhe called to herwithwordsof supplicationthatbroughtthetearstomyeyes.Andthen,atlast:

"Oh,howthirstyIam!"hecried,indeliriousaccents.

I toowas thirsty.My throatwason fire.And,yet, squattingon the floor, Iwent on hunting, hunting, hunting for the spring of the invisible door ...especially as it was dangerous to remain in the forest as evening drew nigh.Alreadytheshadesofnightwerebeginningtosurroundus.Ithadhappenedveryquickly: night falls quickly in tropical countries ... suddenly, with hardly anytwilight.

Now night, in the forests of the equator, is always dangerous, particularlywhen,likeourselves,onehasnotthematerialsforafiretokeepoffthebeastsofprey. I did indeed try for amoment to break off the branches,which Iwouldhavelitwithmydarklantern,butIknockedmyselfalsoagainstthemirrorsandremembered,intime,thatwehadonlyimagesofbranchestodowith.

Theheatdidnotgowiththedaylight;onthecontrary,itwasnowstillhotterundertheblueraysofthemoon.Iurgedtheviscounttoholdourweaponsreadytofireandnottostrayfromcamp,whileIwentonlookingformyspring.

Suddenly,weheardalionroaringafewyardsaway.

"Oh,"whispered the viscount, "he is quite close! ...Don't you see him? ...There...throughthetrees...inthatthicket!Ifheroarsagain,Iwillfire!..."

Andtheroaringbeganagain,louderthanbefore.Andtheviscountfired,butIdonot think thathehit the lion;only,he smashedamirror, as Iperceived thenextmorning, at daybreak.Wemust have covered a good distance during thenight, forwe suddenly foundourselveson theedgeof thedesert, an immensedesertofsand,stonesandrocks.Itwasreallynotworthwhileleavingtheforesttocomeuponthedesert.Tiredout,Iflungmyselfdownbesidetheviscount,forIhadhadenoughoflookingforspringswhichIcouldnotfind.

I was quite surprised—and I said so to the viscount—that we hadencounterednootherdangerousanimalsduringthenight.Usually,afterthelioncame the leopard and sometimes the buzz of the tsetse fly. Thesewere easilyobtainedeffects;andIexplainedtoM.deChagnythatErikimitatedtheroarofaliononalongtabourortimbrel,withanass'sskinatoneend.Overthisskinhetiedastringofcatgut,whichwasfastenedatthemiddletoanothersimilarstringpassingthroughthewholelengthofthetabour.Erikhadonlytorubthisstringwith a glove smeared with resin and, according to the manner in which herubbedit,heimitatedtoperfectionthevoiceofthelionortheleopard,oreventhebuzzingofthetsetsefly.

The idea that Erikwas probably in the room beside us, working his trick,mademesuddenlyresolvetoenterintoaparleywithhim,forwemustobviouslygiveupallthoughtoftakinghimbysurprise.Andbythistimehemustbequiteawarewhoweretheoccupantsofhistorture-chamber.Icalledhim:"Erik!Erik!"

Ishoutedas loudlyasIcouldacross thedesert,but therewasnoanswer tomy voice.All around us lay the silence and the bare immensity of that stonydesert.Whatwastobecomeofusinthemidstofthatawfulsolitude?

We were beginning literally to die of heat, hunger and thirst ... of thirstespecially.Atlast,IsawM.deChagnyraisehimselfonhiselbowandpointtoaspotonthehorizon.Hehaddiscoveredanoasis!

Yes, far in the distancewas an oasis ... an oasiswith limpidwater, whichreflectedtheirontrees!...Tush,itwasthesceneofthemirage...Irecognizeditatonce...theworstofthethree!...Noonehadbeenabletofightagainstit...noone... I didmyutmost tokeepmyheadANDNOTTOHOPEFORWATER,becauseIknewthat,ifamanhopedforwater,thewaterthatreflectedtheirontree,andif,afterhopingforwater,hestruckagainst themirror, thentherewasonlyonethingforhimtodo:tohanghimselfontheirontree!

SoIcriedtoM.deChagny:

"It's the mirage! ... It's the mirage! ... Don't believe in the water! ... It'sanothertrickofthemirrors!..."

Thenheflatlytoldmetoshutup,withmytricksofthemirrors,mysprings,myrevolvingdoorsandmypalacesofillusions!HeangrilydeclaredthatImustbeeitherblindormadtoimaginethatallthatwaterflowingoverthere,among

thosesplendid,numberlesstrees,wasnotrealwater!...Andthedesertwasreal!...Andsowastheforest!...Anditwasnousetryingtotakehimin...hewasanold,experiencedtraveler...hehadbeenallovertheplace!

Andhedraggedhimselfalong,saying:"Water!Water!"

Andhismouthwasopen,asthoughheweredrinking.

Andmymouthwasopentoo,asthoughIweredrinking.

Forwenotonlysawthewater,butWEHEARDIT!...Wehearditflow,weheard it ripple! ...Do you understand thatword "ripple?" ... IT ISASOUNDWHICHYOUHEARWITHYOURTONGUE!...Youputyourtongueoutofyourmouthtolistentoitbetter!

Lastly—andthiswasthemostpitilesstortureofall—weheardtherainanditwasnotraining!Thiswasaninfernalinvention...Oh,IknewwellenoughhowErikobtainedit!Hefilledwithlittlestonesaverylongandnarrowbox,brokenup inside with wooden and metal projections. The stones, in falling, struckagainsttheseprojectionsandreboundedfromonetoanother;andtheresultwasaseriesofpatteringsoundsthatexactlyimitatedarainstorm.

Ah,youshouldhaveseenusputtingoutourtonguesanddraggingourselvestoward the rippling river-bank!Our eyes and earswere full ofwater, but ourtongueswerehardanddryashorn!

Whenwereachedthemirror,M.deChagnylickedit...andIalsolickedtheglass.

Itwasburninghot!

Thenwerolledonthefloorwithahoarsecryofdespair.M.deChagnyputtheonepistolthatwasstillloadedtohistemple;andIstaredatthePunjablassoat thefootof the irontree. Iknewwhythe irontreehadreturned, in this thirdchangeofscene!...Theirontreewaswaitingforme!...

But, as I stared at the Punjab lasso, I saw a thing that made me start soviolentlythatM.deChagnydelayedhisattemptatsuicide.Itookhisarm.Andthen I caught the pistol from him ... and then I draggedmyself onmy kneestowardwhatIhadseen.

I had discovered, near the Punjab lasso, in a groove in the floor, a black-headednailofwhichIknewtheuse.AtlastIhaddiscoveredthespring!Ifeltthe nail ... I lifted a radiant face to M. de Chagny ... The black-headed nailyieldedtomypressure...

Andthen...

Andthenwesawnotadooropenedinthewall,butacellar-flapreleasedinthe floor.Coolair cameup tous from theblackholebelow.Westoopedoverthatsquareofdarknessasthoughoveralimpidwell.Withourchinsinthecoolshade,wedrank it in.Andwebent lower and lowerover the trap-door.Whatcouldtherebeinthatcellarwhichopenedbeforeus?Water?Watertodrink?

Ithrustmyarmintothedarknessandcameuponastoneandanotherstone...astaircase...adarkstaircaseleadingintothecellar.Theviscountwantedtoflinghimselfdownthehole;butI,fearinganewtrickofthemonster's,stoppedhim,turnedonmydarklanternandwentdownfirst.

Thestaircasewasawindingoneandleddownintopitchydarkness.Butoh,howdeliciouslycoolwerethedarknessandthestairs?Thelakecouldnotbefaraway.

We soon reached the bottom. Our eyes were beginning to accustomthemselvestothedark,todistinguishshapesaroundus...circularshapes...onwhichIturnedthelightofmylantern.

Barrels!

WewereinErik'scellar:itwasherethathemustkeephiswineandperhapshisdrinking-water. IknewthatErikwasagreat loverofgoodwine.Ah, therewasplentytodrinkhere!

M.deChagnypattedtheroundshapesandkeptonsaying:

"Barrels!Barrels!Whatalotofbarrels!..."

Indeed, there was quite a number of them, symmetrically arranged in tworows,oneoneithersideofus.TheyweresmallbarrelsandI thoughtthatErikmusthaveselected themof thatsize to facilitate theircarriage to thehouseonthelake.

We examined them successively, to see if one of them had not a funnel,showingthatithadbeentappedatsometimeoranother.Butallthebarrelswerehermeticallyclosed.

Then, afterhalf liftingone tomake sure itwas full,wewentonourkneesand,with thebladeofasmallknifewhichIcarried, Iprepared tostave in thebung-hole.

At that moment, I seemed to hear, coming from very far, a sort ofmonotonous chant which I knew well, from often hearing it in the streets ofParis:

"Barrels!...Barrels!...Anybarrelstosell?"

Myhanddesistedfromitswork.M.deChagnyhadalsoheard.Hesaid:

"That'sfunny!Itsoundsasifthebarrelweresinging!"

Thesongwasrenewed,fartheraway:

"Barrels!...Barrels!...Anybarrelstosell?..."

"Oh,Iswear,"saidtheviscount,"thatthetunediesawayinthebarrel!..."

Westoodupandwenttolookbehindthebarrel.

"It'sinside,"saidM.deChagny,"it'sinside!"

Butweheardnothing thereandweredriven toaccuse thebadconditionofoursenses.Andwereturnedtothebung-hole.M.deChagnyputhistwohandstogetherunderneathitand,withalasteffort,Iburstthebung.

"What'sthis?"criedtheviscount."Thisisn'twater!"

Theviscountputhistwofullhandsclosetomylantern...Istoopedtolook...andatoncethrewawaythelanternwithsuchviolencethatitbrokeandwentout,leavingusinutterdarkness.

WhatIhadseeninM.deChagny'shands...wasgun-powder!

[1] It isverynatural that, at the timewhen thePersianwaswriting,he should takesomanyprecautionsagainstanyspiritofincredulityonthepartofthosewhowerelikelytoreadhisnarrative.Nowadays,whenwehaveallseenthissortofroom,hisprecautionswouldbesuperfluous.

ChapterXXVTheScorpionortheGrasshopper:Which?

THEPERSIAN'SNARRATIVECONCLUDED

Thediscoveryflungusintoastateofalarmthatmadeusforgetallourpastandpresentsufferings.WenowknewallthatthemonstermeanttoconveywhenhesaidtoChristineDaae:

"Yesorno!Ifyouranswerisno,everybodywillbedeadANDBURIED!"

Yes,buriedundertheruinsoftheParisGrandOpera!

Themonsterhadgivenheruntileleveno'clockintheevening.Hehadchosenhistimewell.Therewouldbemanypeople,many"membersofthehumanrace,"upthere,intheresplendenttheater.Whatfinerretinuecouldbeexpectedforhisfuneral?Hewouldgodowntothetombescortedbythewhitestshouldersintheworld,deckedwiththerichestjewels.

Eleveno'clockto-morrowevening!

Wewerealltobeblownupinthemiddleoftheperformance...ifChristineDaaesaidno!

Eleveno'clockto-morrowevening!...

AndwhatelsecouldChristinesaybutno?Wouldshenotprefer toespousedeath itself rather than that living corpse? She did not know that on heracceptanceor refusaldepended theawful fateofmanymembersof thehumanrace!

Eleveno'clockto-morrowevening!

Andwedraggedourselvesthroughthedarkness,feelingourwaytothestonesteps,forthelightinthetrap-dooroverheadthatledtotheroomofmirrorswasnowextinguished;andwerepeatedtoourselves:

"Eleveno'clockto-morrowevening!"

Atlast,Ifoundthestaircase.But,suddenlyIdrewmyselfuponthefirststep,foraterriblethoughthadcometomymind:

"Whatisthetime?"

Ah,whatwas the time? ...For, after all, eleveno'clock to-morroweveningmight be now, might be this very moment!Who could tell us the time?Weseemed tohavebeen imprisoned in that hell for days anddays ... for years ...sincethebeginningoftheworld.Perhapsweshouldbeblownupthenandthere!Ah, a sound! A crack! "Did you hear that? ... There, in the corner ... goodheavens!...Likeasoundofmachinery!...Again!...Oh,foralight!...Perhapsit'sthemachinerythatistobloweverythingup!...Itellyou,acrackingsound:areyoudeaf?"

M. de Chagny and I began to yell like madmen. Fear spurred us on. Werushedupthetreadsofthestaircase,stumblingaswewent,anythingtoescapethedark,toreturntothemortallightoftheroomofmirrors!

We found the trap-door still open, but it was now as dark in the room ofmirrorsasinthecellarwhichwehadleft.Wedraggedourselvesalongthefloorof the torture-chamber, the floor that separated us from the powder-magazine.Whatwasthetime?Weshouted,wecalled:M.deChagnytoChristine,ItoErik.IremindedhimthatIhadsavedhislife.Butnoanswer,savethatofourdespair,ofourmadness:whatwas the time?Weargued,we tried tocalculate the timewhichwehadspentthere,butwewereincapableofreasoning.Ifonlywecouldseethefaceofawatch!...Minehadstopped,butM.deChagny'swasstillgoing...HetoldmethathehadwounditupbeforedressingfortheOpera...Wehadnotamatchuponus...Andyetwemustknow...M.deChagnybroketheglassofhiswatchandfeltthetwohands...Hequestionedthehandsofthewatchwithhisfinger-tips,goingbythepositionoftheringofthewatch...Judgingbythespacebetweenthehands,hethoughtitmightbejusteleveno'clock!

Butperhapsitwasnottheeleveno'clockofwhichwestoodindread.Perhapswehadstilltwelvehoursbeforeus!

Suddenly,Iexclaimed:"Hush!"

I seemed to hear footsteps in the next room. Some one tapped against thewall.ChristineDaae'svoicesaid:

"Raoul!Raoul!"Wewerenowalltalkingatonce,oneithersideofthewall.Christinesobbed;shewasnotsurethatshewouldfindM.deChagnyalive.Themonsterhadbeenterrible,itseemed,haddonenothingbutrave,waitingforherto give him the "yes"which she refused.And yet she had promised him that"yes," if he would take her to the torture-chamber. But he had obstinatelydeclined,andhadutteredhideousthreatsagainstallthemembersofthehumanrace!At last, afterhoursandhoursof thathell,hehad thatmomentgoneout,leavingheralonetoreflectforthelasttime.

"Hoursandhours?Whatisthetimenow?Whatisthetime,Christine?"

"Itiseleveno'clock!Eleveno'clock,allbutfiveminutes!"

"Butwhicheleveno'clock?"

"The eleven o'clock that is to decide life or death! ... He told me so justbeforehewent...Heisterrible...Heisquitemad:hetoreoffhismaskandhisyelloweyesshotflames!...Hedidnothingbutlaugh!...Hesaid,'Igiveyoufiveminutestospareyourblushes!Here,'hesaid,takingakeyfromthelittlebagoflifeanddeath,'hereisthelittlebronzekeythatopensthetwoebonycasketsonthemantelpieceintheLouis-Philipperoom...Inoneofthecaskets,youwillfindascorpion, in theother,agrasshopper,bothverycleverly imitated inJapanesebronze:theywillsayyesornoforyou.Ifyouturnthescorpionround,thatwillmeantome,whenIreturn, thatyouhavesaidyes.Thegrasshopperwillmeanno.'Andhelaughedlikeadrunkendemon.Ididnothingbutbegandentreathimtogivemethekeyofthetorture-chamber,promisingtobehiswifeifhegrantedmethatrequest...Buthetoldmethattherewasnofutureneedforthatkeyandthat he was going to throw it into the lake! ... And he again laughed like adrunken demon and left me. Oh, his last words were, 'The grasshopper! Becarefulof thegrasshopper!Agrasshopperdoesnotonly turn: ithops! Ithops!Andithopsjollyhigh!'"

The fiveminutes had nearly elapsed and the scorpion and the grasshopperwere scratching at my brain. Nevertheless, I had sufficient lucidity left tounderstandthat,ifthegrasshopperwereturned,itwouldhop...andwithitmanymembers of the human race! There was no doubt but that the grasshoppercontrolledanelectriccurrentintendedtoblowupthepowder-magazine!

M. de Chagny, who seemed to have recovered all his moral force fromhearingChristine'svoice,explainedtoher,inafewhurriedwords,thesituationinwhichweandalltheOperawere.Hetoldhertoturnthescorpionatonce.

Therewasapause.

"Christine,"Icried,"whereareyou?"

"Bythescorpion."

"Don'ttouchit!"

The idea had come to me—for I knew my Erik—that the monster hadperhaps deceived the girl once more. Perhaps it was the scorpion that wouldbloweverythingup.Afterall,whywasn'thethere?Thefiveminuteswerelongpast...andhewasnotback...Perhapshehadtakenshelterandwaswaitingforthe explosion! ... Why had he not returned? ... He could not really expectChristine ever to consent to become his voluntary prey! ... Why had he notreturned?

"Don'ttouchthescorpion!"Isaid.

"Herehecomes!"criedChristine."Ihearhim!Hereheis!"

We heard his steps approaching the Louis-Philippe room. He came up toChristine,butdidnotspeak.ThenIraisedmyvoice:

"Erik!ItisI!Doyouknowme?"

Withextraordinarycalmness,heatoncereplied:

"Soyouarenotdeadinthere?Well,then,seethatyoukeepquiet."

Itriedtospeak,buthesaidcoldly:

"Not a word, daroga, or I shall blow everything up." And he added, "Thehonorrestswithmademoiselle...Mademoisellehasnottouchedthescorpion"—howdeliberatelyhespoke!—"mademoisellehasnottouchedthegrasshopper"—withthatcomposure!—"butitisnottoolatetodotherightthing.There,Iopenthecasketswithoutakey,forIamatrap-doorloverandIopenandshutwhatIpleaseandasIplease.Iopenthelittleebonycaskets:mademoiselle,lookatthelittledearsinside.Aren'ttheypretty?Ifyouturnthegrasshopper,mademoiselle,weshallallbeblownup.Thereisenoughgun-powderunderourfeettoblowupawholequarterofParis.Ifyouturnthescorpion,mademoiselle,allthatpowderwillbesoakedanddrowned.Mademoiselle,tocelebrateourwedding,youshallmake a very handsome present to a few hundred Parisians who are at thismomentapplaudingapoormasterpieceofMeyerbeer's...youshallmakethemapresentoftheirlives...For,withyourownfairhands,youshallturnthescorpion...Andmerrily,merrily,wewillbemarried!"

Apause;andthen:

"If,intwominutes,mademoiselle,youhavenotturnedthescorpion,Ishallturnthegrasshopper...andthegrasshopper,Itellyou,HOPSJOLLYHIGH!"

Theterriblesilencebegananew.TheVicomtedeChagny,realizingthattherewasnothinglefttodobutpray,wentdownonhiskneesandprayed.Asforme,mybloodbeatsofiercelythatIhadtotakemyheartinbothhands,lestitshouldburst.Atlast,weheardErik'svoice:

"The twominutes are past ... Good-by, mademoiselle... Hop, grasshopper!"Erik,"criedChristine,"doyousweartome,monster,doyousweartomethatthescorpionistheonetoturn?

"Yes,tohopatourwedding."

"Ah,yousee!Yousaid,tohop!"

"Atourwedding,ingenuouschild!...Thescorpionopenstheball...Butthatwilldo!...Youwon'thavethescorpion?ThenIturnthegrasshopper!"

"Erik!"

"Enough!"

I was crying out in concert with Christine.M. de Chagnywas still on hisknees,praying.

"Erik!Ihaveturnedthescorpion!"

Oh,thesecondthroughwhichwepassed!

Waiting!Waitingtofindourselvesinfragments,amidtheroarandtheruins!

Feelingsomethingcrackbeneathourfeet,hearinganappallinghissthroughtheopentrap-door,ahisslikethefirstsoundofarocket!

Itcamesoftly,atfirst,thenlouder,thenveryloud.Butitwasnotthehissoffire. Itwasmore like thehissofwater.Andnow it becameagurgling sound:"Guggle!Guggle!"

We rushed to the trap-door.All our thirst,which vanishedwhen the terrorcame,nowreturnedwiththelappingofthewater.

Thewaterroseinthecellar,abovethebarrels,thepowder-barrels—"Barrels!...Barrels!Anybarrelstosell?"—andwewentdowntoitwithparchedthroats.Itrosetoourchins,toourmouths.Andwedrank.Westoodonthefloorofthecellaranddrank.Andwewentupthestairsagaininthedark,stepbystep,wentupwiththewater.

Thewater came out of the cellarwith us and spread over the floor of theroom. If, thiswent on, thewhole house on the lakewould be swamped. Thefloorofthetorture-chamberhaditselfbecomearegularlittlelake,inwhichourfeetsplashed.Surelytherewaswaterenoughnow!Erikmustturnoffthetap!

"Erik!Erik!Thatiswaterenoughforthegunpowder!Turnoffthetap!Turnoffthescorpion!"

ButErikdidnotreply.Weheardnothingbutthewaterrising:itwashalf-waytoourwaists!

"Christine!"criedM.deChagny."Christine!Thewaterisuptoourknees!"

ButChristinedidnotreply...Weheardnothingbutthewaterrising.

Noone,noonein thenextroom,nooneto turnthetap,nooneto turnthescorpion!

Wewereallalone,inthedark,withthedarkwaterthatseizedusandclaspedusandfrozeus!

"Erik!Erik!"

"Christine!Christine!"

Bythistime,wehadlostourfootholdandwerespinningroundinthewater,carriedawaybyanirresistiblewhirl,forthewaterturnedwithusanddashedusagainstthedarkmirror,whichthrustusbackagain;andourthroats,raisedabovethewhirlpool,roaredaloud.

Werewetodiehere,drownedinthetorture-chamber?Ihadneverseenthat.Erik, at the time of the rosy hours ofMazenderan, had never shownme that,throughthelittleinvisiblewindow.

"Erik!Erik!"Icried."Isavedyourlife!Remember!...Youweresentencedtodeath!Butforme,youwouldbedeadnow!...Erik!"

Wewhirledaround in thewater like somuchwreckage.But, suddenly,mystrayinghandsseizedthetrunkoftheirontree!IcalledM.deChagny,andwebothhungtothebranchoftheirontree.

Andthewaterrosestillhigher.

"Oh!Oh!Canyouremember?Howmuchspaceistherebetweenthebranchof the treeand thedome-shapedceiling?Do try to remember! ...Afterall, thewatermaystop,itmustfinditslevel!...There,Ithinkitisstopping!...No,no,oh,horrible!...Swim!Swimforyourlife!"

Ourarmsbecameentangledintheeffortofswimming;wechoked;wefoughtin thedarkwater;alreadywecouldhardlybreathe thedarkairabove thedarkwater,theairwhichescaped,whichwecouldhearescapingthroughsomevent-holeorother.

"Oh,letusturnandturnandturnuntilwefindtheairholeandthenglueourmouthstoit!"

ButI lostmystrength;I triedtolayholdof thewalls!Oh,howthoseglasswallsslippedfromundermygropingfingers!...Wewhirledroundagain!...Webegantosink!...Onelasteffort!...Alastcry:"Erik!...Christine!..."

"Guggle,guggle,guggle!" inourears. "Guggle!Guggle!"At thebottomofthedarkwater,ourearswent,"Guggle!Guggle!"

And, before losing consciousness entirely, I seemed to hear, between twoguggles:

"Barrels!Barrels!Anybarrelstosell?"

ChapterXXVITheEndoftheGhost'sLoveStory

ThepreviouschaptermarkstheconclusionofthewrittennarrativewhichthePersianleftbehindhim.

Notwithstanding the horrors of a situation which seemed definitely toabandonthemtotheirdeaths,M.deChagnyandhiscompanionweresavedbythesublimedevotionofChristineDaae.AndIhadtherestofthestoryfromthelipsofthedarogahimself.

When Iwent to see him, hewas still living in his little flat in theRue deRivoli,oppositetheTuileries.Hewasveryill,anditrequiredallmyardorasanhistorianpledgedtothetruthtopersuadehimtolivetheincredibletragedyoveragainformybenefit.HisfaithfuloldservantDariusshowedmeintohim.ThedarogareceivedmeatawindowoverlookingthegardenoftheTuileries.Hestillhadhismagnificenteyes,buthispoorfacelookedveryworn.Hehadshavedthewhole of his head,whichwas usually coveredwith an astrakhan cap; hewasdressedinalong,plaincoatandamusedhimselfbyunconsciouslytwistinghisthumbsinsidethesleeves;buthismindwasquiteclear,andhetoldmehisstorywithperfectlucidity.

Itseemsthat,whenheopenedhiseyes,thedarogafoundhimselflyingonabed.M.deChagnywason a sofa, beside thewardrobe.An angel and adevil

werewatchingoverthem.

Afterthedeceptionsandillusionsofthetorture-chamber,theprecisionofthedetailsof thatquiet littlemiddle-class roomseemed tohavebeen invented fortheexpresspurposeofpuzzlingthemindofthemortalrashenoughtostrayintothat abode of living nightmare. The wooden bedstead, the waxed mahoganychairs, the chest of drawers, those brasses, the little square antimacassarscarefullyplacedonthebacksofthechairs,theclockonthemantelpieceandtheharmless-looking ebony caskets at either end, lastly, the whatnot filled withshells, with red pin-cushions, with mother-of-pearl boats and an enormousostrich-egg, thewholediscreetly lightedbyashaded lampstandingonasmallround table: this collection of ugly, peaceable, reasonable furniture, AT THEBOTTOMOFTHEOPERACELLARS,bewilderedtheimaginationmorethanallthelatefantastichappenings.

Andthefigureofthemaskedmanseemedallthemoreformidableinthisold-fashioned,neatandtrimlittleframe.ItbentdownoverthePersianandsaid,inhisear:

"Areyoubetter,daroga?...Youarelookingatmyfurniture?...ItisallthatIhaveleftofmypoorunhappymother."

ChristineDaaedidnotsayaword:shemovedaboutnoiselessly,likeasisterofcharity,whohadtakenavowofsilence.Shebroughtacupofcordial,orofhottea,hedidnotrememberwhich.ThemaninthemasktookitfromherhandsandgaveittothePersian.M.deChagnywasstillsleeping.

Erikpouredadropofrumintothedaroga'scupand,pointingtotheviscount,said:

"Hecametohimselflongbeforeweknewifyouwerestillalive,daroga.Heisquitewell.Heisasleep.Wemustnotwakehim."

Eriklefttheroomforamoment,andthePersianraisedhimselfonhiselbow,lookedaroundhimandsawChristineDaaesittingbythefireside.Hespoketoher,calledher,buthewasstillveryweakandfellbackonhispillow.Christinecame to him, laid her hand on his forehead and went away again. And thePersian remembered that, as she went, she did not give a glance at M. deChagny,who,itistrue,wassleepingpeacefully;andshesatdownagaininherchairbythechimney-corner,silentasasisterofcharitywhohadtakenavowof

silence.

Erik returnedwith some little bottleswhich he placed on themantelpiece.And,againinawhisper,soasnottowakeM.deChagny,hesaidtothePersian,aftersittingdownandfeelinghispulse:

"Youarenowsaved,bothofyou.AndsoonIshalltakeyouuptothesurfaceoftheearth,TOPLEASEMYWIFE."

Thereupon he rose, without any further explanation, and disappeared oncemore.

ThePersiannowlookedatChristine'squietprofileunderthelamp.Shewasreadingatinybook,withgiltedges,likeareligiousbook.ThereareeditionsofTHEIMITATIONthatlooklikethat.ThePersianstillhadinhisearsthenaturaltoneinwhichtheotherhadsaid,"topleasemywife."Verygently,hecalledheragain;butChristinewaswrappedupinherbookanddidnothearhim.

Erikreturned,mixedthedarogaadraftandadvisedhimnottospeakto"hiswife" againnor to anyone,BECAUSE ITMIGHTBEVERYDANGEROUSTOEVERYBODY'SHEALTH.

Eventually,thePersianfellasleep,likeM.deChagny,anddidnotwakeuntilhewasinhisownroom,nursedbyhisfaithfulDarius,whotoldhimthat,onthenightbefore, hewas foundproppedagainst thedoorof his flat,wherehehadbeenbroughtbyastranger,whorangthebellbeforegoingaway.

Assoonasthedarogarecoveredhisstrengthandhiswits,hesent toCountPhilippe'shouse to inquireafter theviscount'shealth.Theanswerwas that theyoungmanhadnotbeenseenandthatCountPhilippewasdead.Hisbodywasfound on the bank of the Opera lake, on the Rue-Scribe side. The Persianrememberedtherequiemmasswhichhehadheardfrombehindthewallofthetorture-chamber, and had no doubt concerning the crime and the criminal.KnowingErikashedid,heeasily reconstructed the tragedy.Thinking thathisbrotherhadrunawaywithChristineDaae,Philippehaddashedinpursuitofhimalong theBrusselsRoad,whereheknew that everythingwasprepared for theelopement.Failing to find thepair, hehurriedback to theOpera, rememberedRaoul'sstrangeconfidenceabouthisfantasticrivalandlearnedthattheviscounthad made every effort to enter the cellars of the theater and that he haddisappeared,leavinghishatintheprimadonna'sdressing-roombesideanempty

pistol-case.Andthecount,whonolongerentertainedanydoubtofhisbrother'smadness, in his turn darted into that infernal underground maze. This wasenough,inthePersian'seyes,toexplainthediscoveryoftheComtedeChagny'scorpseontheshoreofthelake,wherethesiren,Erik'ssiren,keptwatch.

ThePersian did not hesitate.He determined to inform the police.Now thecasewasinthehandsofanexamining-magistratecalledFaure,anincredulous,commonplace,superficialsortofperson,(IwriteasIthink),withamindutterlyunpreparedtoreceiveaconfidenceofthiskind.M.Fauretookdownthedaroga'sdepositionsandproceededtotreathimasamadman.

Despairingofeverobtainingahearing,thePersiansatdowntowrite.Asthepolicedidnotwanthisevidence,perhapsthepresswouldbegladofit;andhehad just written the last line of the narrative I have quoted in the precedingchapters,whenDariusannouncedthevisitofastrangerwhorefusedhisname,whowouldnotshowhisfaceanddeclaredsimplythathedidnotintendtoleavetheplaceuntilhehadspokentothedaroga.

ThePersianatoncefeltwhohissingularvisitorwasandorderedhimtobeshownin.Thedarogawasright.Itwastheghost,itwasErik!

He looked extremelyweak and leaned against thewall, as though hewereafraidof falling.Takingoffhishat,he revealeda foreheadwhiteaswax.Therestofthehorriblefacewashiddenbythemask.

ThePersianrosetohisfeetasErikentered.

"Murderer of Count Philippe, what have you done with his brother andChristineDaae?"

Erik staggered under this direct attack, kept silent for a moment, draggedhimselftoachairandheavedadeepsigh.Then,speakinginshortphrasesandgaspingforbreathbetweenthewords:

"Daroga,don't talktome...aboutCountPhilippe...Hewasdead...bythetime...Ileftmyhouse...hewasdead...when...thesirensang...Itwasan...accident...asad...averysad...accident.Hefellveryawkwardly...butsimplyandnaturally...intothelake!..."

"Youlie!"shoutedthePersian.

Erikbowedhisheadandsaid:

"Ihavenotcomehere...totalkaboutCountPhilippe...buttotellyouthat...Iamgoing...todie..."

"WhereareRaouldeChagnyandChristineDaae?"

"Iamgoingtodie."

"RaouldeChagnyandChristineDaae?"

"Oflove...daroga...Iamdying...oflove...Thatishowitis...lovedherso!...AndIloveherstill...daroga...andIamdyingofloveforher,I...Itellyou!...Ifyouknewhowbeautifulshewas...whensheletmekissher...alive...Itwasthefirst...time,daroga,thefirst...timeIeverkissedawoman...Yes,alive...Ikissedheralive...andshelookedasbeautifulasifshehadbeendead!"

ThePersianshookErikbythearm:

"Willyoutellmeifsheisaliveordead."

"Whydoyoushakemelikethat?"askedErik,makinganefforttospeakmoreconnectedly."ItellyouthatIamgoingtodie...Yes,Ikissedheralive..."

"Andnowsheisdead?"

"ItellyouIkissedherjustlikethat,onherforehead...andshedidnotdrawbackher forehead frommy lips! ...Oh, she is agoodgirl! ...As toherbeingdead,Idon'tthinkso;butithasnothingtodowithme...No,no,sheisnotdead!Andnooneshall touchahairofherhead!She isagood,honestgirl,andshesavedyourlife,daroga,atamomentwhenIwouldnothavegiventwopenceforyourPersian skin.Asamatterof fact,nobodybotheredaboutyou.Whywereyou therewith that little chap?Youwouldhavediedaswell ashe!Myword,howsheentreatedmeforherlittlechap!ButItoldherthat,asshehadturnedthescorpion, she had, through that very fact, and of her own free will, becomeengagedtomeandthatshedidnotneedtohavetwomenengagedtoher,whichwastrueenough.

"As foryou,youdidnotexist,youhadceased toexist, I tellyou,andyouwere going to die with the other! ... Only, markme, daroga, when you were

yelling like the devil, because of the water, Christine came to me with herbeautifulblueeyeswideopen,andsworetome,asshehopedtobesaved,thatsheconsentedtobeMYLIVINGWIFE!...Untilthen,inthedepthsofhereyes,daroga,Ihadalwaysseenmydeadwife;itwasthefirsttimeIsawMYLIVINGWIFE there. She was sincere, as she hoped to be saved. She would not killherself.Itwasabargain...Halfaminutelater,allthewaterwasbackinthelake;andIhadahardjobwithyou,daroga,for,uponmyhonor,Ithoughtyouweredonefor!...However!...Thereyouwere!...ItwasunderstoodthatIwastotakeyou both up to the surface of the earth. When, at last, I cleared the Louis-Philipperoomofyou,Icamebackalone..."

"What have you done with the Vicomte de Chagny?" asked the Persian,interruptinghim.

"Ah,yousee,daroga,Icouldn'tcarryHIMuplikethat,atonce....Hewasahostage...ButIcouldnotkeephiminthehouseonthelake,either,becauseofChristine;soIlockedhimupcomfortably,Ichainedhimupnicely—awhiffofthe Mazenderan scent had left him as limp as a rag—in the Communists'dungeon,whichisinthemostdesertedandremotepartoftheOpera,belowthefifthcellar,wherenooneevercomes,andwherenooneeverhearsyou.ThenIcamebacktoChristine,shewaswaitingforme."

Erik here rose solemnly. Then he continued, but, as he spoke, he wasovercomebyallhisformeremotionandbegantotremblelikealeaf:

"Yes,shewaswaitingforme...waitingformeerectandalive,areal,livingbride...asshehopedtobesaved...And,whenI ...cameforward,moretimidthan...alittlechild,shedidnotrunaway...no,no...shestayed...shewaitedforme...Ievenbelieve...daroga...thatsheputoutherforehead...alittle...oh,notmuch...justalittle...likealivingbride...And...and...I...kissedher!...I!...I!...I!...Andshedidnotdie!...Oh,howgooditis,daroga,tokisssomebodyon theforehead! ...Youcan't tell! ...But I! I! ...Mymother,daroga,mypoor,unhappymotherwouldnever...letmekissher...Sheusedtorunaway...andthrow me my mask! ... Nor any other woman ... ever, ever! ... Ah, you canunderstand,myhappinesswassogreat,Icried.AndIfellatherfeet,crying...andIkissedherfeet...herlittlefeet...crying.You'recrying,too,daroga...andshecriedalso...theangelcried!..."EriksobbedaloudandthePersianhimselfcould not retain his tears in the presence of that maskedman, who, with hisshoulders shaking andhishands clutched at his chest,wasmoaningwithpain

andlovebyturns.

"Yes,daroga...Ifelthertearsflowonmyforehead...onmine,mine!...Theyweresoft ... theyweresweet! ...Theytrickledundermymask... theymingledwith my tears in my eyes ... yes ... they flowed between my lips ... Listen,daroga,listentowhatIdid...Itoreoffmymasksoasnottoloseoneofhertears... and she did not run away! ... And she did not die! ... She remained alive,weepingoverme,withme.Wecriedtogether!Ihavetastedallthehappinesstheworldcanoffer!"

AndErikfellintoachair,chokingforbreath:

"Ah,Iamnotgoingtodieyet...presentlyIshall...butletmecry!...Listen,daroga ... listen to this ... While I was at her feet ... I heard her say, 'Poor,unhappyErik!'...ANDSHETOOKMYHAND!...Ihadbecomenomore,youknow,thanapoordogreadytodieforher...Imeanit,daroga!...Iheldinmyhandaring,aplaingoldringwhichIhadgivenher...whichshehadlost...andwhichIhadfoundagain...awedding-ring,youknow...Islippeditintoherlittlehandandsaid,'There!...Takeit!...Takeitforyou...andhim!...Itshallbemywedding-presentapresentfromyourpoor,unhappyErik...Iknowyoulovetheboy...don'tcryanymore!...Sheaskedme,inaverysoftvoice,whatImeant...ThenImadeherunderstand that,whereshewasconcerned, Iwasonlyapoordog, ready todie forher ...but thatshecouldmarry theyoungmanwhenshepleased,becauseshehadcriedwithmeandmingledhertearswithmine!..."

Erik'semotionwassogreatthathehadtotellthePersiannottolookathim,forhewaschokingandmusttakeoffhismask.Thedarogawenttothewindowandopenedit.Hisheartwasfullofpity,buthetookcaretokeephiseyesfixedonthetreesintheTuileriesgardens,lestheshouldseethemonster'sface.

"Iwentandreleasedtheyoungman,"Erikcontinued,"andtoldhimtocomewithme toChristine ... They kissed beforeme in the Louis-Philippe room ...Christinehadmyring...ImadeChristinesweartocomeback,onenight,whenIwas dead, crossing the lake from the Rue-Scribe side, and bury me in thegreatestsecrecywiththegoldring,whichshewastowearuntilthatmoment....Itoldherwhereshewouldfindmybodyandwhattodowithit...ThenChristinekissedme,forthefirsttime,herself,here,ontheforehead—don'tlook,daroga!—here,ontheforehead...onmyforehead,mine—don'tlook,daroga!—andtheywent off together... Christine had stopped crying ... I alone cried ... Daroga,

daroga,ifChristinekeepsherpromise,shewillcomebacksoon!..."

ThePersianaskedhimnoquestions.HewasquitereassuredastothefateofRaoulChagnyandChristineDaae;noonecouldhavedoubtedthewordof theweepingErikthatnight.

Themonsterresumedhismaskandcollectedhisstrengthtoleavethedaroga.He toldhim that,whenhe felthisend tobeverynearathand,hewouldsendhim, ingratitude for thekindnesswhich thePersianhadonceshownhim, thatwhichhehelddearest in theworld:allChristineDaae'spapers,whichshehadwritten for Raoul's benefit and left with Erik, together with a few objectsbelonging to her, such as a pair of gloves, a shoe-buckle and two pocket-handkerchiefs. In reply to the Persian's questions, Erik told him that the twoyoungpeople,atsoonastheyfoundthemselvesfree,hadresolvedtogoandlookforapriestinsomelonelyspotwheretheycouldhidetheirhappinessandthat,with thisobject inview, theyhadstarted from"thenorthern railwaystationofthe world." Lastly, Erik relied on the Persian, as soon as he received thepromised relics and papers, to inform the young couple of his death and toadvertiseitintheEPOQUE.

Thatwasall.ThePersiansawEriktothedoorofhisflat,andDariushelpedhim down to the street. A cab was waiting for him. Erik stepped in; and thePersian,whohadgonebacktothewindow,heardhimsaytothedriver:

"GototheOpera."

Andthecabdroveoffintothenight.

ThePersianhadseenthepoor,unfortunateErikforthelasttime.Threeweekslater,theEpoquepublishedthisadvertisement:

"Erikisdead."

Epilogue.

I have now told the singular, but veracious story of theOpera ghost.As I

declaredonthefirstpageofthiswork,itisnolongerpossibletodenythatErikreallylived.Thereareto-daysomanyproofsofhisexistencewithinthereachofeverybodythatwecanfollowErik'sactionslogicallythroughthewholetragedyoftheChagnys.

Thereisnoneedtorepeatherehowgreatlythecaseexcitedthecapital.Thekidnapping of the artist, the death of the Comte de Chagny under suchexceptionalconditions,thedisappearanceofhisbrother,thedruggingofthegas-manattheOperaandofhistwoassistants:whattragedies,whatpassions,whatcrimeshadsurroundedtheidyllofRaoulandthesweetandcharmingChristine!...Whathadbecomeofthatwonderful,mysteriousartistofwhomtheworldwasnever, never to hear again? ... She was represented as the victim of a rivalrybetween the two brothers; and nobody suspected what had really happened,nobodyunderstoodthat,asRaoulandChristinehadbothdisappeared,bothhadwithdrawnfarfromtheworldtoenjoyahappinesswhichtheywouldnothavecaredtomakepublicaftertheinexplicabledeathofCountPhilippe...Theytookthetrainonedayfrom"thenorthernrailwaystationoftheworld."...Possibly,Itooshalltakethetrainatthatstation,oneday,andgoandseekaroundthylakes,ONorway,OsilentScandinavia,fortheperhapsstilllivingtracesofRaoulandChristine and also ofMammaValerius,who disappeared at the same time! ...Possibly,someday,IshallhearthelonelyechoesoftheNorthrepeatthesingingofherwhoknewtheAngelofMusic!...

LongafterthecasewaspigeonholedbytheunintelligentcareofM.leJuged'Instruction Faure, the newspapers made efforts, at intervals, to fathom themystery.One evening paper alone,which knew all the gossip of the theaters,said:

"WerecognizethetouchoftheOperaghost."

Andeventhatwaswrittenbywayofirony.

The Persian alone knew the whole truth and held the main proofs, whichcame to himwith the pious relics promised by the ghost. It fell tomy lot tocompletethoseproofswiththeaidofthedarogahimself.Daybyday,Ikepthiminformedoftheprogressofmyinquiries;andhedirectedthem.Hehadnotbeento the Opera for years and years, but he had preserved the most accuraterecollectionof the building, and therewas nobetter guide thanhe possible tohelp me discover its most secret recesses. He also told me where to gather

further information,whom to ask; and he sentme to call onM. Poligny, at amomentwhen thepoormanwasnearlydrawinghis last breath. I hadno ideathathewas sovery ill, and I shallnever forget the effectwhichmyquestionsabouttheghostproduceduponhim.HelookedatmeasifIwerethedevilandansweredonlyinafewincoherentsentences,whichshowed,however—andthatwasthemainthing—theextentoftheperturbationwhichO.G.,inhistime,hadbroughtintothatalreadyveryrestlesslife(forM.Polignywaswhatpeoplecallamanofpleasure).

WhenIcameandtoldthePersianofthepoorresultofmyvisittoM.Poligny,thedarogagaveafaintsmileandsaid:

"Poligny never knew how far that extraordinary blackguard of an Erikhumbugged him."—The Persian, by the way, spoke of Erik sometimes as ademigod and sometimes as the lowest of the low—"Polignywas superstitiousandErikknewit.ErikknewmostthingsaboutthepublicandprivateaffairsoftheOpera.WhenM.Polignyheardamysteriousvoicetellhim,inBoxFive,ofthe manner in which he used to spend his time and abuse his partner'sconfidence,hedidnotwaittohearanymore.ThinkingatfirstthatitwasavoicefromHeaven,hebelievedhimselfdamned;and then,when thevoicebegan toaskformoney,hesawthathewasbeingvictimizedbyashrewdblackmailertowhom Debienne himself had fallen a prey. Both of them, already tired ofmanagementforvariousreasons,wentawaywithouttryingtoinvestigatefurtherinto the personality of that curious O. G., who had forced such a singularmemorandum-book upon them. They bequeathed the whole mystery to theirsuccessorsandheavedasighofreliefwhentheywereridofabusinessthathadpuzzledthemwithoutamusingthemintheleast."

I then spoke of the two successors and expressed my surprise that, in hisMemoirs of a Manager, M. Moncharmin should describe the Opera ghost'sbehavioratsuchlengthinthefirstpartofthebookandhardlymentionitatallinthesecond.Inreplytothis,thePersian,whoknewtheMEMOIRSasthoroughlyasifhehadwrittenthemhimself,observedthatIshouldfindtheexplanationofthewhole business if I would just recollect the few lines whichMoncharmindevotestotheghostinthesecondpartaforesaid.Iquotetheselines,whichareparticularly interestingbecause theydescribe theverysimplemanner inwhichthefamousincidentofthetwenty-thousandfrancswasclosed:

"AsforO.G.,someofwhosecurioustricksIhaverelatedinthefirstpartof

myMemoirs,Iwillonlysaythatheredeemedbyonespontaneousfineactionalltheworrywhichhehadcausedmydearfriendandpartnerand,Iamboundtosay,myself.Hefelt,nodoubt,thattherearelimitstoajoke,especiallywhenitissoexpensiveandwhenthecommissaryofpolicehasbeeninformed,for,atthemomentwhenwehadmadeanappointmentinourofficewithM.Mifroidtotellhim thewholestory,a fewdaysafter thedisappearanceofChristineDaae,wefound,onRichard'stable,alargeenvelope,inscribed,inredink,"WITHO.G.'SCOMPLIMENTS."Itcontainedthelargesumofmoneywhichhehadsucceededinplayfullyextracting,forthetimebeing,fromthetreasury.Richardwasatonceoftheopinionthatwemustbecontentwiththatanddropthebusiness.IagreedwithRichard.All'swellthatendswell.Whatdoyousay,O.G.?"

Of course, Moncharmin, especially after the money had been restored,continued to believe that he had, for a shortwhile, been the butt ofRichard'ssenseofhumor,whereasRichard,onhisside,wasconvincedthatMoncharminhadamusedhimselfbyinventingthewholeoftheaffairoftheOperaghost,inordertorevengehimselfforafewjokes.

I asked the Persian to tell me by what trick the ghost had taken twenty-thousandfrancsfromRichard'spocketinspiteofthesafety-pin.Herepliedthathe had not gone into this little detail, but that, if I myself cared to make aninvestigationonthespot,Ishouldcertainlyfindthesolutiontotheriddleinthemanagers' office by remembering that Erik had not been nicknamed the trap-doorloverfornothing.IpromisedthePersiantodosoassoonasIhadtime,andImay aswell tell the reader at once that the results ofmy investigationwereperfectlysatisfactory;andIhardlybelievedthatIshouldeverdiscoversomanyundeniableproofsoftheauthenticityofthefeatsascribedtotheghost.

ThePersian'smanuscript,ChristineDaae'spapers,thestatementsmadetomebythepeoplewhousedtoworkunderMM.RichardandMoncharmin,bylittleMegherself (theworthyMadameGiry, I am sorry to say, is nomore) andbySorelli, who is now living in retirement at Louveciennes: all the documentsrelatingtotheexistenceoftheghost,whichIproposetodepositinthearchivesof the Opera, have been checked and confirmed by a number of importantdiscoveriesofwhichIamjustlyproud.Ihavenotbeenabletofindthehouseonthelake,Erikhavingblockedupallthesecretentrances.[1]Ontheotherhand,IhavediscoveredthesecretpassageoftheCommunists,theplankingofwhichisfalling to pieces in parts, and also the trap-door throughwhichRaoul and thePersian penetrated into the cellars of the opera-house. In the Communists'

dungeon, I noticed numbers of initials traced on thewalls by the unfortunatepeopleconfinedinit;andamongthesewerean"R"anda"C."R.C.:RaouldeChagny.Thelettersaretheretothisday.

IfthereaderwillvisittheOperaonemorningandaskleavetostrollwherehepleases,withoutbeingaccompaniedbya stupidguide, lethimgo toBoxFiveandknockwithhisfistorstickontheenormouscolumnthatseparatesthisfromthestage-box.Hewillfindthatthecolumnsoundshollow.Afterthat,donotbeastonishedbythesuggestionthatitwasoccupiedbythevoiceoftheghost:thereis room inside the column for two men. If you are surprised that, when thevariousincidentsoccurred,nooneturnedroundtolookatthecolumn,youmustremember that it presented the appearance of solidmarble, and that the voicecontained in it seemed rather to come from the opposite side, for, aswehaveseen,theghostwasanexpertventriloquist.

Thecolumnwaselaboratelycarvedanddecoratedwiththesculptor'schisel;andIdonotdespairofonedaydiscoveringtheornamentthatcouldberaisedorlowered atwill, so as to admit of the ghost'smysterious correspondencewithMme.Giryandofhisgenerosity.

However,allthesediscoveriesarenothing,tomymind,comparedwiththatwhich I was able to make, in the presence of the acting-manager, in themanagers' office, within a couple of inches from the desk-chair, and whichconsistedofatrap-door,thewidthofaboardintheflooringandthelengthofaman'sfore-armandnolonger;atrap-doorthatfallsbacklikethelidofabox;atrap-door throughwhich I can seeahandcomeanddexterously fumbleat thepocketofaswallow-tailcoat.

Thatisthewaytheforty-thousandfrancswent!...Andthatalsoisthewaybywhich,throughsometrickorother,theywerereturned.

SpeakingaboutthistothePersian,Isaid:

"Sowemaytakeit,astheforty-thousandfrancswerereturned,thatErikwassimplyamusinghimselfwiththatmemorandum-bookofhis?"

"Don't you believe it!" he replied. "Erik wanted money. Thinking himselfwithoutthepaleofhumanity,hewasrestrainedbynoscruplesandheemployedhis extraordinarygifts of dexterity and imagination,whichhehad receivedbywayof compensation for his extraordinary uglinesss, to prey upon his fellow-men.Hisreasonforrestoringtheforty-thousandfrancs,ofhisownaccord,wasthat he no longer wanted it. He had relinquished his marriage with ChristineDaae.Hehadrelinquishedeverythingabovethesurfaceoftheearth."

According to the Persian's account, Erikwas born in a small town not farfromRouen.Hewas the sonof amaster-mason.He ran away at an early agefromhisfather'shouse,wherehisuglinesswasasubjectofhorrorandterrortohisparents.Foratime,hefrequentedthefairs,whereashowmanexhibitedhimasthe"livingcorpse."HeseemstohavecrossedthewholeofEurope,fromfairtofair,andtohavecompletedhisstrangeeducationasanartistandmagicianattheveryfountain-headofartandmagic,amongtheGipsies.AperiodofErik'sliferemainedquiteobscure.HewasseenatthefairofNijni-Novgorod,wherehedisplayed himself in all his hideous glory.He already sang as nobody on thisearth had ever sung before; he practised ventriloquism and gave displays oflegerdemainsoextraordinarythatthecaravansreturningtoAsiatalkedaboutitduring thewhole lengthof their journey. In thisway,his reputationpenetratedthewallsofthepalaceatMazenderan,wherethelittlesultana,thefavoriteoftheShah-in-Shah, was boring herself to death. A dealer in furs, returning toSamarkand from Nijni-Novgorod, told of the marvels which he had seenperformedinErik'stent.ThetraderwassummonedtothepalaceandthedarogaofMazenderanwastold toquestionhim.Next thedarogawasinstructedtogoandfindErik.HebroughthimtoPersia,whereforsomemonthsErik'swillwaslaw. He was guilty of not a few horrors, for he seemed not to know thedifferencebetweengoodandevil.Hetookpartcalmlyinanumberofpoliticalassassinations;andheturnedhisdiabolicalinventivepowersagainsttheEmirofAfghanistan,whowasatwarwiththePersianempire.TheShahtookalikingtohim.

Thiswas the time of the rosy hours ofMazenderan, ofwhich the daroga'snarrativehasgivenusaglimpse.Erikhadveryoriginalideasonthesubjectofarchitectureandthoughtoutapalacemuchasaconjurorcontrivesatrick-casket.TheShahorderedhimtoconstructanedificeof thiskind.Erikdidso;andthebuildingappears tohavebeensoingenious thatHisMajestywasable tomoveabout in it unseen and to disappear without a possibility of the trick's beingdiscovered.WhentheShah-in-Shahfoundhimselfthepossessorofthisgem,heorderedErik'syelloweyestobeputout.Buthereflectedthat,evenwhenblind,Erikwould still be able tobuild so remarkable a house for another sovereign;andalsothat,aslongasErikwasalive,someonewouldknowthesecretofthewonderful palace.Erik's deathwas decided upon, togetherwith that of all thelaborers who hadworked under his orders. The execution of this abominabledecree devolved upon the daroga of Mazenderan. Erik had shown him someslight services and procured him many a hearty laugh. He saved Erik byprovidinghimwith themeansof escape,butnearlypaidwithhishead forhis

generousindulgence.

Fortunately for the daroga, a corpse, half-eaten by the birds of prey, wasfoundontheshoreof theCaspianSea,andwastakenforErik'sbody,becausethedaroga's friendshaddressed the remains in clothing thatbelonged toErik.Thedarogawasletoffwiththelossoftheimperialfavor,theconfiscationofhisproperty and an order of perpetual banishment. As a member of the RoyalHouse, however, he continued to receive amonthly pension of a fewhundredfrancsfromthePersiantreasury;andonthishecametoliveinParis.

AsforErik,hewenttoAsiaMinorandthencetoConstantinople,whereheentered the Sultan's employment. In explanation of the serviceswhich hewasabletorenderamonarchhauntedbyperpetualterrors,IneedonlysaythatitwasErik who constructed all the famous trap-doors and secret chambers andmysteriousstrong-boxeswhichwerefoundatYildiz-KioskafterthelastTurkishrevolution. He also invented those automata, dressed like the Sultan andresembling the Sultan in all respects,[2] which made people believe that theCommander of the Faithful was awake at one place, when, in reality, hewasasleepelsewhere.

Ofcourse,hehadtoleavetheSultan'sserviceforthesamereasonsthatmadehim fly from Persia: he knew too much. Then, tired of his adventurous,formidableandmonstrouslife,helongedtobesomeone"likeeverybodyelse."And he became a contractor, like any ordinary contractor, building ordinaryhouses with ordinary bricks. He tendered for part of the foundations in theOpera.Hisestimatewasaccepted.Whenhefoundhimself in thecellarsof theenormous playhouse, his artistic, fantastic, wizard nature resumed the upperhand.Besides,washenotasuglyasever?Hedreamedofcreatingforhisownuseadwellingunknowntotherestoftheearth,wherehecouldhidefrommen'seyesforalltime.

Thereaderknowsandguessestherest.Itisallinkeepingwiththisincredibleandyetveraciousstory.Poor,unhappyErik!Shallwepityhim?Shallwecursehim?Heaskedonlytobe"someone,"likeeverybodyelse.Buthewastoougly!Andhehad to hidehis geniusORUSE ITTOPLAYTRICKSWITH,when,with an ordinary face, he would have been one of the most distinguished ofmankind!Hehadaheart thatcouldhaveheld theempireof theworld;and, intheend,hehadtocontenthimselfwithacellar.Ah,yes,wemustneedspitytheOperaghost.

I have prayed over his mortal remains, that God might show him mercynotwithstandinghis crimes.Yes, I am sure, quite sure that I prayedbesidehisbody,theotherday,whentheytookitfromthespotwheretheywereburyingthephonographicrecords.Itwashisskeleton.Ididnotrecognizeitbytheuglinessofthehead,forallmenareuglywhentheyhavebeendeadaslongasthat,butby the plain gold ringwhich hewore andwhichChristineDaae had certainlyslipped on his finger, when she came to bury him in accordance with herpromise.

Theskeletonwas lyingnear the littlewell, in theplacewhere theAngelofMusicfirstheldChristineDaaefaintinginhistremblingarms,onthenightwhenhecarriedherdowntothecellarsoftheopera-house.

And,now,whatdotheymeantodowiththatskeleton?Surelytheywillnotburyitinthecommongrave!...IsaythattheplaceoftheskeletonoftheOperaghost is in the archives of the National Academy ofMusic. It is no ordinaryskeleton.

[1]Even so, I amconvinced that itwouldbe easy to reach it bydraining the lake, as I have repeatedlyrequested theMinistry ofFineArts to do. Iwas speaking about it toM.Dujardin-Beaumetz, the under-secretaryforfinearts,onlyforty-eighthoursbeforethepublicationofthisbook.WhoknowsbutthatthescoreofDONJUANTRIUMPHANTmightyetbediscoveredinthehouseonthelake?

[2]SeetheinterviewofthespecialcorrespondentoftheMATIN,withMohammed-AliBey,onthedayaftertheentryoftheSalonikatroopsintoConstantinople.

THEEND

TheParisOperaHouse

THE SCENE OF GASTON LEROUX'S NOVEL, "THEPHANTOMOFTHEOPERA"

ThatMr.Lerouxhasused,forthesceneofhisstory,theParisOperaHouseasitreallyisandhasnotcreatedabuildingoutofhisimagination,isshownbythisinterestingdescriptionof it taken froman articlewhich appeared inScribner'sMagazinein1879,ashorttimeafterthebuildingwascompleted:

"ThenewOperaHouse,commencedundertheEmpireandfinishedundertheRepublic, is themost completebuildingof thekind in theworld and inmanyrespects themost beautiful.NoEuropean capital possesses an opera house socomprehensiveinplanandexecution,andnonecanboastanedificeequallyvastandsplendid.

"Thesiteof theOperaHousewaschosenin1861.Itwasdeterminedtolaythe foundation exceptionally deep and strong. It was well known that waterwould bemetwith, but itwas impossible to foresee atwhat depth or inwhatquantity itwouldbe found.Exceptionaldepthalsowasnecessary,as thestagearrangementsweretobesuchastoadmitascenefiftyfeethightobeloweredonits frame. Itwas therefore necessary to lay a foundation in a soil soakedwithwater which should be sufficiently solid to sustain a weight of 22,000,000pounds,andatthesametimetobeperfectlydry,asthecellarswereintendedforthe storage of scenery and properties. While the work was in progress, theexcavationwaskeptfreefromwaterbymeansofeightpumps,workedbysteampower,andinoperation,withoutinterruption,dayandnight,fromMarchsecondto October thirteenth. The floor of the cellar was covered with a layer ofconcrete,thenwithtwocoatsofcement,anotherlayerofconcreteandacoatofbitumen.Thewall includesanouterwallbuiltasacoffer-dam,abrickwall,acoatofcement, andawallproper, a littleoverayard thick.Afterall thiswasdonethewholewasfilledwithwater,inorderthatthefluid,bypenetratingintothemostminute interstices,mightdeposita sedimentwhichwouldclose themmoresurelyandperfectlythanitwouldbepossibletodobyhand.Twelveyearselapsed before the completion of the building, and during that time it wasdemonstrated that the precautions taken secured absolute impermeability and

solidity.

"Theeventsof1870 interruptedwork just as itwasabout tobeprosecutedmostvigorously,andthenewOperaHousewasputtonewandunexpecteduses.Duringthesiege,itwasconvertedintoavastmilitarystorehouseandfilledwithaheterogeneousmassofgoods.AfterthesiegethebuildingfellintothehandsoftheCommuneandtheroofwasturnedintoaballoonstation.Thedamagedone,however,wasslight.

"The fine stoneemployed in the constructionwasbrought fromquarries inSweden, Scotland, Italy, Algeria, Finland, Spain, Belgium and France.Whileworkontheexteriorwasinprogress,thebuildingwascoveredinbyawoodenshell, rendered transparent by thousands of small panes of glass. In 1867 aswarmofmen,suppliedwithhammersandaxes,strippedthehouseofitshabit,andshowedinallitssplendorthegreatstructure.Nopicturecandojusticetotherichcolorsoftheedificeortotheharmonioustoneresultingfromtheskilfuluseofmanydiversematerials.Theeffectofthefrontageiscompletedbythecupolaof theauditorium, toppedwithacapofbronzesparinglyadornedwithgilding.Fartheron,onalevelwiththetowersofNotre-Dame,isthegableendoftheroofofthestage,a'Pegasus',byM.Lequesne,risingateitherendoftheroof,andabronze group by M. Millet, representing 'Apollo lifting his golden lyre',commanding the apex.Apollo, itmay here bementioned, is useful aswell asornamental, for his lyre is tipped with a metal point which does duty as alightning-rod,andconductsthefluidtothebodyanddownthenetherlimbsofthegod.

"The spectator, having climbed ten steps and left behind him a gateway,reachesavestibule inwhichare statuesofLully,Rameau,Gluck,andHandel.TenstepsofgreenSwedishmarbleleadtoasecondvestibuleforticket-sellers.Visitorswhoenterbythepavilionreservedforcarriagespassthroughahallwaywhere ticket offices are situated. The larger number of the audience, beforeentering the auditorium, traverse a large circular vestibule located exactlybeneathit.Theceilingofthisportionofthebuildingisupheldbysixteenflutedcolumns of Jura stone, with white marble capitals, forming a portico. Hereservants are to await their masters, and spectators may remain until theircarriages are summoned. The third entrance, which is quite distinct from theothers,isreservedfortheExecutive.Thesectionofthebuildingsetasidefortheuse of the Emperor Napoleon was to have included an antechamber for thebodyguards;asalonfor theaides-de-camp;a largesalonandasmalleronefor

the Empress; hat and cloak rooms, etc. Moreover, there were to be in closeproximitytotheentrance,stablesforthreecoaches,fortheoutriders'horses,andforthetwenty-onehorsemenactingasanescort;astationforasquadofinfantryof thirty-onemenand tencent-gardes,andastable for thehorsesof the latter;and,besides,asalonforfifteenortwentydomestics.Thusarrangementshadtobemadetoaccommodateinthispartofthebuildingaboutonehundredpersons,fiftyhorses,andhalf-a-dozencarriages.ThefalloftheEmpiresuggestedsomechanges,butampleprovisionstillexistsforemergencies.

"Itsnovelconception,perfectfitness,andraresplendorofmaterial,makethegrand stairway unquestionably one of the most remarkable features of thebuilding.Itpresentstothespectator,whohasjustpassedthroughthesubscribers'pavilion,agorgeouspicture.From thispointhebeholds theceiling formedbythecentral landing;thisandthecolumnssustainingit,builtofEchaillonstone,are honeycombedwith arabesques andheavywith ornaments; the steps are ofwhitemarble,andantiqueredmarblebalustersrestongreenmarblesocketsandsupport a balustrade of onyx. To the right and to the left of this landing arestairwaystothefloor,onaplanewiththefirstrowofboxes.Onthisfloorstandthirty monolith columns of Sarrancolin marble, with white marble bases andcapitals. Pilasters of peach-blossom and violet stone are against thecorrespondingwalls.Morethanfiftyblockshadtobeextractedfromthequarrytofindthirtyperfectmonoliths.

"ThefoyerdeladansehasparticularinterestforthehabituesoftheOpera.Itis a place of reunion to which subscribers to three performances a week areadmittedbetweentheactsinaccordancewithausageestablishedin1870.Threeimmense looking-glassescover thebackwallof theFOYER,andachandelierwithonehundredandsevenburnerssuppliesitwithlight.Thepaintingsincludetwenty ovalmedallions, inwhich are portrayed the twenty danseuses ofmostcelebritysincetheoperahasexistedinFrance,andfourpanelsbyM.Boulanger,typifying 'TheWarDance', 'TheRusticDance', 'TheDance ofLove' and 'TheBacchicDance.'Whiletheladiesoftheballetreceivetheiradmirersinthisfoyer,theycanpractisetheirsteps.Velvet-cushionedbarshavetothisendbeensecuredatconvenientpoints,andthefloorhasbeengiventhesameslopeasthatofthestage, so that the labor expended may be thoroughly profitable to theperformance.Thesingers' foyer,on thesamefloor, isamuchless livelyresortthanthefoyerdeladanse,asvocalistsrarelyleavetheirdressing-roomsbeforethey are summoned to the stage. Thirty panels with portraits of the artists ofreputeintheannalsoftheOperaadornthisfoyer.

"Someestimate...maybearrivedatbysittingbeforetheconciergeanhouror so before the representation commences. First appear the stage carpenters,whoarealwaysseventy,andsometimes,whenL'Africaine,forexample,withitsship scene, is the opera, one hundred and ten strong. Then come stageupholsterers,whosesoledutyistolaycarpets,hangcurtains,etc.;gas-men,anda squad of firemen. Claqueurs, call-boys, property-men, dressers, coiffeurs,supernumeraries, and artists, follow. The supernumeraries number about onehundred;somearehiredby theyear,but the 'masses'aregenerallyrecruitedatthelastminuteandaregenerallyworking-menwhoseektoaddtotheirmeagreearnings.Thereareaboutahundredchoristers,andabouteightymusicians.

"Nextwebeholdequeries,whosehorsesarehoistedonthestagebymeansofanelevator;electricianswhomanagethelight-producingbatteries;hydrauliciensto take charge of the water-works in ballets like La Source; artificers whoprepare the conflagration in Le Profeta; florists who make ready Margarita'sgarden, and a host of minor employees. This personnel is provided for asfollows: Eighty dressing-rooms are reserved for the artists, each including asmall antechamber, thedressing-roomproper, anda little closet.Besides theseapartments,theOperahasadressing-roomforsixtymale,andanotherforfiftyfemalechoristers; a third for thirty-fourmaledancers; fourdressing-rooms fortwentyfemaledancersofdifferentgrades;adressing-roomforonehundredandninetysupernumeraries,etc."

Afewfigurestakenfromthearticlewillsuggesttheenormouscapacityandtheperfectconvenienceofthehouse."Thereare2,531doorsand7,593keys;14furnacesandgratesheatthehouse;thegaspipesifconnectedwouldformapipealmost16mileslong;9reservoirs,andtwotankshold22,222gallonsofwateranddistributetheircontentsthrough22,8292-5feetofpiping;538personshaveplacesassignedwhereintochangetheirattire.Themusicianshaveafoyerwith100closetsfortheirinstruments."

The author remarks of his visit to theOperaHouse that it "was almost asbewildering as it was agreeable. Giant stairways and colossal halls, hugefrescoesandenormousmirrors,goldandmarble,satinandvelvet,mettheeyeateveryturn."

Ina recent letterMr.AndreCastaigne,whose remarkablepictures illustratethetext,speaksofariverorlakeundertheOperaHouseandmentionsthefactthat there are now also threemetropolitan railway tunnels, one on top of the

other.

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