The Phantom of the Opera (Oxford World's Classics) by Gaston Leroux & David Coward

Author:Gaston Leroux & David Coward
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Oxford University Press
Published: 2012-03-08T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

A Masterstroke from the King of Traps

RAOUL and Christine ran for their lives, fleeing the roof where there were burning eyes which could be seen only in the darkest night. They did not stop until they got to the eighth level down. That evening there was no performance, so the corridors of the Opera House were deserted.

All at once a strange silhouette stepped out into their path, barring their progress.

‘No! Not this way.’

And it pointed to another corridor which would take them up to the wings.

Raoul wanted to stop and find out what was going on.

‘Go! Go quickly!’ ordered the shadowy figure which was muffled in a kind of heavy box-coat and wore a conical toque, or ottoman fez.

Christine was already dragging Raoul away and made him break into a run.

‘Who was that?’ he asked, ‘who was he?’

‘The Persian!’ Christine answered.

‘What’s he doing here?’

‘Nobody knows!… He’s always hanging around the Opera!’

‘You’ve made me act like a coward, Christine,’ said Raoul angrily. ‘You made me run away. It’s the first time in my life I ever did that!’

‘Nonsense!’ answered Christine, who was beginning to calm down. ‘I’m beginning to think what we ran away from was a figment of our imagination!’

‘If it really was Erik there, I should have nailed him to Apollo’s lyre just as they nail owls to farmhouse walls in Brittany, and then that would have been the end of him.’

‘But Raoul, first you’d have had to climb up to Apollo’s lyre, and that takes some doing.’

‘The burning eyes managed it.’

‘You’re as bad as me, ready to see him everywhere. But afterwards, you start thinking. What I took for burning eyes were probably two golden stars as they looked down at Paris through the strings of the lyre.’

Christine, with Raoul in tow, led the way down another level.

‘Since you’ve made up your mind to go for good,’ he said, ‘I still think you should leave right now. Why wait until tomorrow? Maybe he heard what we said up there.’

‘But he couldn’t have! I told you, he’s working on Don Juan Triumphant. He hasn’t time to bother about us.’

‘But you’re not that sure, otherwise you wouldn’t keep looking over your shoulder.’

‘Let’s go to my dressing room.’

‘No, let’s go somewhere outside the Opera House.’

‘Never! Not until we leave for good! It would mean breaking my word and that would bring us bad luck. I promised him I wouldn’t meet you anywhere but here.’

‘I suppose I should be grateful that he at least gave his gracious permission for that,’ said Raoul bitterly. ‘Even so, suggesting we play at being engaged was a pretty bold thing to do.’

‘But he knew all about it. He said: “I trust you, Christine. M. de Chagny loves you and will shortly sail away. Until he goes, I want him to be as unhappy as I am!”’

‘And what does that mean?’ asked Raoul.

‘That’s what I should be asking you. Does being in love mean being miserable?’

‘Yes, Christine, if you’re in love and not sure of being loved.

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