The Phantom of the Opera - Page 136/178

On the other hand, I resolved to act without further delay, as far as I

was concerned. The chances were in my favor that Erik, at that moment,

was thinking only of his captive. This was the moment to enter his

house through the third cellar; and I resolved to take with me that

poor little desperate viscount, who, at the first suggestion, accepted,

with an amount of confidence in myself that touched me profoundly. I

had sent my servant for my pistols. I gave one to the viscount and

advised him to hold himself ready to fire, for, after all, Erik might

be waiting for us behind the wall. We were to go by the Communists'

road and through the trap-door.

Seeing my pistols, the little viscount asked me if we were going to

fight a duel. I said: "Yes; and what a duel!" But, of course, I had no time to explain

anything to him. The little viscount is a brave fellow, but he knew

hardly anything about his adversary; and it was so much the better. My

great fear was that he was already somewhere near us, preparing the

Punjab lasso. No one knows better than he how to throw the Punjab

lasso, for he is the king of stranglers even as he is the prince of

conjurors. When he had finished making the little sultana laugh, at

the time of the "rosy hours of Mazenderan," she herself used to ask him

to amuse her by giving her a thrill. It was then that he introduced

the sport of the Punjab lasso.

He had lived in India and acquired an incredible skill in the art of

strangulation. He would make them lock him into a courtyard to which

they brought a warrior--usually, a man condemned to death--armed with a

long pike and broadsword. Erik had only his lasso; and it was always

just when the warrior thought that he was going to fell Erik with a

tremendous blow that we heard the lasso whistle through the air. With

a turn of the wrist, Erik tightened the noose round his adversary's

neck and, in this fashion, dragged him before the little sultana and

her women, who sat looking from a window and applauding. The little

sultana herself learned to wield the Punjab lasso and killed several of

her women and even of the friends who visited her. But I prefer to

drop this terrible subject of the rosy hours of Mazenderan. I have

mentioned it only to explain why, on arriving with the Vicomte de

Chagny in the cellars of the Opera, I was bound to protect my companion

against the ever-threatening danger of death by strangling. My pistols

could serve no purpose, for Erik was not likely to show himself; but

Erik could always strangle us. I had no time to explain all this to

the viscount; besides, there was nothing to be gained by complicating

the position. I simply told M. de Chagny to keep his hand at the level

of his eyes, with the arm bent, as though waiting for the command to

fire. With his victim in this attitude, it is impossible even for the

most expert strangler to throw the lasso with advantage. It catches

you not only round the neck, but also round the arm or hand. This

enables you easily to unloose the lasso, which then becomes harmless.