Raoul now remembered that his brother had once shown him that

mysterious person, of whom nothing was known except that he was a

Persian and that he lived in a little old-fashioned flat in the Rue de

Rivoli.

The man with the ebony skin, the eyes of jade and the astrakhan cap

bent over Raoul.

"I hope, M. de Chagny," he said, "that you have not betrayed Erik's

secret?"

"And why should I hesitate to betray that monster, sir?" Raoul rejoined

haughtily, trying to shake off the intruder. "Is he your friend, by

any chance?"

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"I hope that you said nothing about Erik, sir, because Erik's secret is

also Christine Daae's and to talk about one is to talk about the other!"

"Oh, sir," said Raoul, becoming more and more impatient, "you seem to

know about many things that interest me; and yet I have no time to

listen to you!"

"Once more, M. de Chagny, where are you going so fast?"

"Can not you guess? To Christine Daae's assistance..."

"Then, sir, stay here, for Christine Daae is here!"

"With Erik?"

"With Erik."

"How do you know?"

"I was at the performance and no one in the world but Erik could

contrive an abduction like that! ... Oh," he said, with a deep sigh, "I

recognized the monster's touch! ..."

"You know him then?"

The Persian did not reply, but heaved a fresh sigh.

"Sir," said Raoul, "I do not know what your intentions are, but can you

do anything to help me? I mean, to help Christine Daae?"

"I think so, M. de Chagny, and that is why I spoke to you."

"What can you do?"

"Try to take you to her ... and to him."

"If you can do me that service, sir, my life is yours! ... One word

more: the commissary of police tells me that Christine Daae has been

carried off by my brother, Count Philippe."

"Oh, M. de Chagny, I don't believe a word of it."

"It's not possible, is it?"

"I don't know if it is possible or not; but there are ways and ways of

carrying people off; and M. le Comte Philippe has never, as far as I

know, had anything to do with witchcraft."

"Your arguments are convincing, sir, and I am a fool! ... Oh, let us

make haste! I place myself entirely in your hands! ... How should I

not believe you, when you are the only one to believe me ... when you

are the only one not to smile when Erik's name is mentioned?"

And the young man impetuously seized the Persian's hands. They were

ice-cold.

"Silence!" said the Persian, stopping and listening to the distant

sounds of the theater. "We must not mention that name here. Let us

say 'he' and 'him;' then there will be less danger of attracting his

attention."




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