The terrible silence began anew. The Vicomte de Chagny, realizing that

there was nothing left to do but pray, went down on his knees and

prayed. As for me, my blood beat so fiercely that I had to take my

heart in both hands, lest it should burst. At last, we heard Erik's

voice: "The two minutes are past ... Good-by, mademoiselle... Hop,

grasshopper! "Erik," cried Christine, "do you swear to me, monster, do

you swear to me that the scorpion is the one to turn?

"Yes, to hop at our wedding."

"Ah, you see! You said, to hop!"

"At our wedding, ingenuous child! ... The scorpion opens the ball...

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But that will do! ... You won't have the scorpion? Then I turn the

grasshopper!"

"Erik!"

"Enough!"

I was crying out in concert with Christine. M. de Chagny was still on

his knees, praying.

"Erik! I have turned the scorpion!"

Oh, the second through which we passed!

Waiting! Waiting to find ourselves in fragments, amid the roar and the

ruins!

Feeling something crack beneath our feet, hearing an appalling hiss

through the open trap-door, a hiss like the first sound of a rocket!

It came softly, at first, then louder, then very loud. But it was not

the hiss of fire. It was more like the hiss of water. And now it

became a gurgling sound: "Guggle! Guggle!"

We rushed to the trap-door. All our thirst, which vanished when the

terror came, now returned with the lapping of the water.

The water rose in the cellar, above the barrels, the

powder-barrels--"Barrels! ... Barrels! Any barrels to sell?"--and we

went down to it with parched throats. It rose to our chins, to our

mouths. And we drank. We stood on the floor of the cellar and drank.

And we went up the stairs again in the dark, step by step, went up with

the water.

The water came out of the cellar with us and spread over the floor of

the room. If, this went on, the whole house on the lake would be

swamped. The floor of the torture-chamber had itself become a regular

little lake, in which our feet splashed. Surely there was water enough

now! Erik must turn off the tap!

"Erik! Erik! That is water enough for the gunpowder! Turn off the

tap! Turn off the scorpion!"

But Erik did not reply. We heard nothing but the water rising: it was

half-way to our waists!

"Christine!" cried M. de Chagny. "Christine! The water is up to our

knees!"




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