The Phantom of the Opera - Page 169/178

I have now told the singular, but veracious story of the Opera ghost.

As I declared on the first page of this work, it is no longer possible

to deny that Erik really lived. There are to-day so many proofs of his

existence within the reach of everybody that we can follow Erik's

actions logically through the whole tragedy of the Chagnys.

There is no need to repeat here how greatly the case excited the

capital. The kidnapping of the artist, the death of the Comte de

Chagny under such exceptional conditions, the disappearance of his

brother, the drugging of the gas-man at the Opera and of his two

assistants: what tragedies, what passions, what crimes had surrounded

the idyll of Raoul and the sweet and charming Christine! ... What had

become of that wonderful, mysterious artist of whom the world was

never, never to hear again? ... She was represented as the victim of a

rivalry between the two brothers; and nobody suspected what had really

happened, nobody understood that, as Raoul and Christine had both

disappeared, both had withdrawn far from the world to enjoy a happiness

which they would not have cared to make public after the inexplicable

death of Count Philippe ... They took the train one day from "the

northern railway station of the world." ... Possibly, I too shall take

the train at that station, one day, and go and seek around thy lakes, O

Norway, O silent Scandinavia, for the perhaps still living traces of

Raoul and Christine and also of Mamma Valerius, who disappeared at the

same time! ... Possibly, some day, I shall hear the lonely echoes of

the North repeat the singing of her who knew the Angel of Music! ...

Long after the case was pigeonholed by the unintelligent care of M. le

Juge d'Instruction Faure, the newspapers made efforts, at intervals, to

fathom the mystery. One evening paper alone, which knew all the gossip

of the theaters, said: "We recognize the touch of the Opera ghost."

And even that was written by way of irony.

The Persian alone knew the whole truth and held the main proofs, which

came to him with the pious relics promised by the ghost. It fell to my

lot to complete those proofs with the aid of the daroga himself. Day

by day, I kept him informed of the progress of my inquiries; and he

directed them. He had not been to the Opera for years and years, but

he had preserved the most accurate recollection of the building, and

there was no better guide than he possible to help me discover its most

secret recesses. He also told me where to gather further information,

whom to ask; and he sent me to call on M. Poligny, at a moment when the

poor man was nearly drawing his last breath. I had no idea that he was

so very ill, and I shall never forget the effect which my questions

about the ghost produced upon him. He looked at me as if I were the

devil and answered only in a few incoherent sentences, which showed,

however--and that was the main thing--the extent of the perturbation

which O. G., in his time, had brought into that already very restless

life (for M. Poligny was what people call a man of pleasure).