He beat time with his heels on the planks of the boat and sang: "KYRIE! ... KYRIE! ... KYRIE ELEISON! ... Wait till you hear, wait till

you hear that mass."

"Look here," I said. "I shall believe you if I see Christine Daae come

out of the house on the lake and go back to it of her own accord."

"And you won't meddle any more in my affairs?"

"No."

"Very well, you shall see that to-night. Come to the masked ball.

Christine and I will go and have a look round. Then you can hide in

the lumber-room and you shall see Christine, who will have gone to her

dressing-room, delighted to come back by the Communists' road... And,

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now, be off, for I must go and do some shopping!"

To my intense astonishment, things happened as he had announced.

Christine Daae left the house on the lake and returned to it several

times, without, apparently, being forced to do so. It was very

difficult for me to clear my mind of Erik. However, I resolved to be

extremely prudent, and did not make the mistake of returning to the

shore of the lake, or of going by the Communists' road. But the idea

of the secret entrance in the third cellar haunted me, and I repeatedly

went and waited for hours behind a scene from the Roi de Lahore, which

had been left there for some reason or other. At last my patience was

rewarded. One day, I saw the monster come toward me, on his knees. I

was certain that he could not see me. He passed between the scene

behind which I stood and a set piece, went to the wall and pressed on a

spring that moved a stone and afforded him an ingress. He passed

through this, and the stone closed behind him.

I waited for at least thirty minutes and then pressed the spring in my

turn. Everything happened as with Erik. But I was careful not to go

through the hole myself, for I knew that Erik was inside. On the other

hand, the idea that I might be caught by Erik suddenly made me think of

the death of Joseph Buquet. I did not wish to jeopardize the

advantages of so great a discovery which might be useful to many

people, "to a goodly number of the human race," in Erik's words; and I

left the cellars of the Opera after carefully replacing the stone.

I continued to be greatly interested in the relations between Erik and

Christine Daae, not from any morbid curiosity, but because of the

terrible thought which obsessed my mind that Erik was capable of

anything, if he once discovered that he was not loved for his own sake,

as he imagined. I continued to wander, very cautiously, about the

Opera and soon learned the truth about the monster's dreary love-affair.




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