The Phantom of the Opera

ny," with the address in pencil. It must have been flung out in the hope that a passer-by would pick up the not

nocent child, the victim of imprudence and exaggerated sensibility. To what extent, at this time, was she really a victim? Whose prisoner was she? Into what whirlpool had she been dragged? He asked himself these questions with a cruel anguis

in life, including her art. She went through the CONSERVATOIRE like a poor soulless singing-machine. And, suddenly, she awoke as

been giving Christine lessons ... Ah, he was a punctual singing-

now asked himself with terror what game the girl was playing? Up to what point could a

ger knew whether to pity Christine or to curse her; and he pitied and

rrot in his white wrap, the viscount thought himself very ridiculous. Men of the world do not go to the Opera ball

ul climbed the grand staircase at five minutes to twelve, did not linger to look at the motley dresses displayed all the way up the marble steps, one of the richest settings in the world, allowed no facetious mask to draw him into a war of wits, replied to no jests and shook off the bold familiarity of a number of couples who had already become a trifle too gay. Crossing

ng. A black domino passed and gave a quick squeeze to the tips

stine?" he asked,

inger to her lips, no doubt to warn him not to mention

at she had "nothing to reproach herself with," however peculiar and inexplicable her conduct might seem. He was ready to make any display of

om time to time to see if the w

appearance were causing a sensation. It was a man dressed all in scarlet, with a huge hat and feathers on the top of a wonderful death's head. From his shoulders hung an immense red-velvet cloak

the rash one's wrist; and he, feeling the clutch of the knucklebones, the furious grasp of Death, uttered a cry of pain

f the funereal masquerader, who had just happened

head of Per

domino, who also seemed a prey to some strange excitement, caught him by the arm and dragg

two occasions saw something that startled her, for she hur

he sound of her voice, closed the door behind them and warned him, in a whisper, to remain at the back of the box and on no account to show himself. Raoul took off his mask. Christine kept hers on. And, when Raoul w

r." Suddenly she exclaimed:

ase that led to the floor above, A RED FOOT, followed by another ... and slowly, majestically, the w

ed. "This time, he sh

t the moment when Raoul was on the point

she asked, in a changed voic

lled him with a strength which he would not have suspected in her. H

Red Death! ... In a word, madam, your friend ... your Angel of Music! ... But I shall snatch off his mask, as I shall snatch off my own; and, th

an behind her velvet mask. With a tragic gesture, she flung out h

love, Raoul, you s

he loved him. And yet she had had opportunities enough ... Pooh, her only object was to gain a few seco

Perros ... for honest hope, madam, for I am an honest man and I believed you to be an honest woman, when your only intention was to deceive me! Alas, you have deceived us all! You have taken

m to insult her. She thought of but one

for all those ugly words, Raoul, a

e mad! When I think that I had only one objec

... How

l die o

's grave and changed voice. "And

staggering as he went. He

come and applaud yo

er sing agai

is taking you off the stage: I congratulate you! ...

ywhere, Raoul: you shal

e returning? ... For what hell are you leavin

you now ... you would not believe me! You ha

g voice that the lad began to

tnight? ... What is this tale about the Angel of Music, which you have been telling Mamma Valerius? Some one may have taken you in, played upon your innocence. I was a witness of it myself, at Perros ... but you know what to believe now! You seem to me quite

ff her mask and said: "

former days was gone. A mortal pallor covered those features, which he had known so charming and so gentle,

oaned, holding out his arms. "

, resuming her mask; and she went away, fo

d and repeated her gesture of farewell with

an aching heart; and, as he crossed the dancing-floor, he asked if anybody had seen Red Death. Yes, every one had seen Red Death; but Raoul cou

oked everywhere for "the man's voice." The room was empty. A gas-jet was burning, turned down low. He saw some writing-paper on a little desk. He thought of

the table. She sighed and let her pretty head fall into her two hands. What

as to be pitied, it was he, Raoul. It would have been quite natural if she had said, "Poor R

stine's sighs and why was she pity

idly that Raoul, who was still trembling from the effects

ss!" he said

to issue from the walls ... yes, it was as though the walls themselves were singing! ... The song became plainer ... the words were now distinguishable ... he heard a voice, a very beautiful, very soft, very captivating voice ... but, for all its so

he said. "I am ready

nothing. Christine's face lit up. A smile of happiness appeared upon her bloodless

e, more powerful, in short, more irresistibly triumphant. He listened to it in a fever and he now began to understand how Christine Daae was able to appear one evening, before

out her arms to the voice as she had done, in Perros churchyard, to the invisible violin playi

ee to me for e

the moment when he needed them most, he succeeded in drawing back the curtain that hid him and he walked to where Christine stood. She herself was moving to the ba

ee to me for e

ne embrace. But, by a sort of dazzling miracle that sent him staggering, Raoul was suddenly flung back, while an icy blast swept over his face; he saw, not two, but four, eight, twenty Christines

walls. Nobody! And meanwhile the room stil

ee to me for e

Christine gone? ... Which

clared to him that everything was fini

ee to me for e

? To

hands. When he raised it, the tears were streaming down his young cheeks, real, heavy tears like those which jealous children shed, t

his Erik?