The Phantom of the Opera

t the Duchess de Zurich's; but this was the last occasion on which she was heard in private. She refused, without plausible excuse, to appear at a charity concert t

known. Some pretended that it was due to overweening pride; others spoke of her heavenly modesty. But people on the stage are not so modest as all that; and I think that I shall not be far from the truth if I ascribe her action simpl

f when I sing," wri

o meet her. He wrote to her, asking to call upon her, but despaired o

SIE

d duty. To-morrow is the anniversary of the death of my poor father, whom you knew and who was very fond of you. He is buried there, with his violin, in the graveyard of

rits until the evening, when he was seated in his compartment in the Brittany express. He read Christine's note over and over again, smelling its perfume, recalling the sweet pictures of his childhood, and spent the rest of that tedious night journey in feverish dreams that began and ended with Christine Da

embered the story of the little Swedish singer. M

she knew how to read. Daae's father was a great musician, perhaps without knowing it. Not a fiddler throughout the length and breadth of Scandinavia played as he did. His reputation was widespread and he was always invited to set the couples dancing at wed

ne day, at Ljimby Fair, Professor Valerius heard them and took them to Gothenburg. He maintained that the father was the first violinist in the world and that the daughter had the making o

sickness. He never went out of doors in Paris, but lived in a sort of dream which he kept up with his violin. For hours at a time, he remained locked up in his bedroom with his daughter, fi

dulge a queer whim of his. At the time of the "pardons," or Breton pilgrimages, the village festival and dances, he went off with his fiddle, as in the old days, and was allowed to take his daughter with him for a week. They gave the smallest hamlets music to last them for a year and slept at night in a barn, refusing a bed at the inn, lying close together

They came to the shore of an inlet which is still called Trestraou, but which now, I believe, harbors a casino or something of the sort. At that time, there was nothing but sky and sea and a stretch of

l go and fetch your

o the sea, dressed as he was, and brought her back her scarf. Boy and scarf were both soaked through. The lady in black made a great fuss, b

ng viscount some violin lessons. In this way, Raoul learned to love the same airs that had charmed Christine's childhood. They also both had the same calm and dre

leman ... have you a littl

; for nearly every old Breton grandame has, at least once in h

aae came and sat down by them on the roadside and, in a low voice, as though fearing lest he should frighten the ghosts w

one story

deep, still lakes that open like a bright eye

anot

r and blue as her eyes. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took great care of her frock and her

hat every great musician, every great artist received a visit from the Angel at least once in his life. Sometimes the Angel leans over their cradle, as happened to Lotte, and that is how there are little prodigies who play the fiddle at six better than men at fifty, w

lestial harmonies, a divine voice, which they remember all their lives. Persons who are visited by the Angel quiver with a thrill unknown to the rest of mankind. And they can not touch an instrum

d the Angel of Music. But Daddy Daae shook his h

my child! When I am in Hea

nning to cough

m and went straight to the house in which they used to stay. He first saw the old man; and then Christine entered, carrying the tea-tray. She flushed at the sight of Raoul, who went up to her and kissed her. She asked him a few questions, performed her duties as hostess prettily, took up the tray again and left the room. Then she ran into the garden and took refuge on a bench,

, I shall nev

, for he knew that Christine could no

in the world. Meanwhile, the father died; and, suddenly, she seemed to have lost, with him, her voice, her soul and her genius. She retained just, but only just, enough of this to enter th

He waited for her behind a Jacob's ladder. He tried to attract her attention. More than once, he walked after her to the door of her box, but she did not see him. She seemed, for that matter, to see nobody. She was all indifference. Raoul suffered, for she was

man's voice behind the door-"You mu

incident of the scarf? Why did she not recog

itting-room of the Setting Sun and at once saw Christine

I should find you here, when I came back fr

ul, taking her l

or father,

lence; and the

I love you, Christine, and th

and turned away her head. In

e dreaming,

aughing, to put her

ine; I am quite seri

did not make you come to t

d not leave me indignant and that I should hasten to Perros. H

I thought... Perhaps I was wrong to write to you ... This anniversary and your sudden appearance in my room at the Ope

y hostility in her; far from it: the distressed affection shining in her eyes told him that. But

ing-room, was that the first t

ncapable

u several times in your brothe

in your room, at your feet, reminding you that I had rescued your scarf from the

ed to raise at the very moment when he had resolved to speak words of gentleness, love and submission to Christine. A husband, a lover with all rights, would tal

It was because there was some one in the room who was in your way, Christine, som

e in coldly, "if any one was in my way, that evening,

ou might remain

?" asked the girl excitedly. "

sing only for you! ... to-night I

ed it with a strength which no one woul

listening beh

ou everything ... And

heard

coming strangely calm,

'Christine, you

r eyes, she staggered and seemed on the point of swooning. Raoul darted forward, with arm

n! Tell me a

aid you had given him your soul, 'Your soul is a beautiful thing, child, and I

ared before her like a madwoman's. Raoul was terror-stricken. But suddenly Christine'

isti

ao

er in his arms, but she escap

hout the presence of the young Swedish girl. Why did she not come to roam with him through the country where they had so many memories in common? He heard that she had had a mass said, that morning, for the repose of her fat

that had blossomed in the morning, in the snow, giving a glimpse of life among the dead, for death was all around him. It also, like the flowers, issued from the ground, which had flung back a number of its corpses. Skeletons and skulls by the hundred were heaped against the wall of the church, held i

the evening. Raoul was surrounded by icy darkness, but he did not feel the cold. It was here, he remembered, that he used to come with little Christine to see the Korrigans dance at the rising of the moon. He

Korrigans will c

ed to speak. She put her

something serious, very serious ... Do you

elieve it was here that your

hild, I will send him to you.' Well, Raoul, my father is

to him that his friend, in obedience to a pious thought, was connect

onished at the Vicomte

e to his that he might have thought that Christine was going to give

evening without the intervention of some miracle. No professor on earth can t

DRESSING-ROOM. That is where he c

ing-room?" he

eard him; and I have not bee

heard him,

my f

d the Ange

t was he who said, 'You must love me.' But I then thought that I was the only one to hear his

ouded the two young people in their light. Christine turned on Ra

t? YOU think you heard a

e ideas began to grow confused in the f

those days. What are you thinking of? I am an honest girl, M. le Vicomte de Chagny, and I don't lock myself up in my

door, when you were gone, and

see! .

summoned up a

hink that somebody is

, but, in a tone of fierce anger, she called

gone to her bedroom saying that she would not be down to dinner. Raoul dined alone, in a very gloomy mood. Th

make a sound, and waited. Waited for what? How could he tell? But his heart thumped in his chest when he heard Christine's door turn slowly on its hinges. Where could she be going, at this hour, when every one was fast asleep at Perros? Softly opening

door facing the sea was opened an

ew back the window. Christine's wh

l the greater when, the next morning, the young man was brought back to her half frozen, more dead than alive, and when she learned that he had been found stretched at full length on the steps of the high altar of the little chur

r, M. Mifroid, the commissary of police, examined the Vicomte de Chagny touching the events of the

ome down from your room by the c

se for following her and that this way of spying on her was unworthy of me. But she seemed not to hear me and acted exactly as though I were not there. She quietly left the quay and then suddenly walke

the ga

surprised me, but did not

no one in th

een, I must have seen him. The moon was shinin

or any one to hide be

st above the level of the ground. The only shadows were those of the crosses and ourselves. The church stood

at all sup

r, I am a pract

ondition of m

to disturb her. She knelt down by her father's grave, made the sign of the cross and began to pray. At that moment, it struck midnight. At the last stroke, I saw Mlle. Daae life{sic} her eyes to the sky and stretch out her arms as though in ecstasy. I was wondering what the reason could be, when I myself raised my head and everything within me seemed drawn toward the invisible, WHICH WAS PLAYING THE MOST PERFECT MUSIC! Christine and I knew that music; we had heard it as children. But it had never be

t the musician might be hiding

tted to follow Mlle. Daae, when she stood up and walked slowly to the gate. She

e found in the morning lying half-d

cristy wall. I ran up. The shadow had already pushed open the door and entered the church. But I was quicker than the shadow and caught hold of a corner of its cloak. At that moment, we were just in front of the high altar; and the moonbeams fell straight upon us through the stained-glass windows of the apse. As I did not let go of the clo