One day, about a week after the game began, Raoul's heart was badly
hurt and he stopped playing and uttered these wild words: "I shan't go to the North Pole!"
Christine, who, in her innocence, had not dreamed of such a
possibility, suddenly discovered the danger of the game and reproached
herself bitterly. She did not say a word in reply to Raoul's remark
and went straight home.
This happened in the afternoon, in the singer's dressing-room, where
they met every day and where they amused themselves by dining on three
biscuits, two glasses of port and a bunch of violets. In the evening,
she did not sing; and he did not receive his usual letter, though they
had arranged to write to each other daily during that month. The next
morning, he ran off to Mamma Valerius, who told him that Christine had
gone away for two days. She had left at five o'clock the day before.
Raoul was distracted. He hated Mamma Valerius for giving him such news
as that with such stupefying calmness. He tried to sound her, but the
old lady obviously knew nothing.
Christine returned on the following day. She returned in triumph. She
renewed her extraordinary success of the gala performance. Since the
adventure of the "toad," Carlotta had not been able to appear on the
stage. The terror of a fresh "co-ack" filled her heart and deprived
her of all her power of singing; and the theater that had witnessed her
incomprehensible disgrace had become odious to her. She contrived to
cancel her contract. Daae was offered the vacant place for the time.
She received thunders of applause in the Juive.
The viscount, who, of course, was present, was the only one to suffer
on hearing the thousand echoes of this fresh triumph; for Christine
still wore her plain gold ring. A distant voice whispered in the young
man's ear: "She is wearing the ring again to-night; and you did not give it to
her. She gave her soul again tonight and did not give it to you... If
she will not tell you what she has been doing the past two days ... you
must go and ask Erik!"
He ran behind the scenes and placed himself in her way. She saw him
for her eyes were looking for him. She said: "Quick! Quick! ... Come!"
And she dragged him to her dressing-room.
Raoul at once threw himself on his knees before her. He swore to her
that he would go and he entreated her never again to withhold a single
hour of the ideal happiness which she had promised him. She let her
tears flow. They kissed like a despairing brother and sister who have
been smitten with a common loss and who meet to mourn a dead parent.
Suddenly, she snatched herself from the young man's soft and timid
embrace, seemed to listen to something, and, with a quick gesture,
pointed to the door. When he was on the threshold, she said, in so low
a voice that the viscount guessed rather than heard her words: "To-morrow, my dear betrothed! And be happy, Raoul: I sang for you
to-night!"