"Oh, Christine," said Raoul, "my heart quivered that night at every
accent of your voice. I saw the tears stream down your cheeks and I
wept with you. How could you sing, sing like that while crying?"
"I felt myself fainting," said Christine, "I closed my eyes. When I
opened them, you were by my side. But the voice was there also, Raoul!
I was afraid for your sake and again I would not recognize you and
began to laugh when you reminded me that you had picked up my scarf in
the sea! ... Alas, there is no deceiving the voice! ... The voice
recognized you and the voice was jealous! ... It said that, if I did
not love you, I would not avoid you, but treat you like any other old
friend. It made me scene upon scene. At last, I said to the voice,
'That will do! I am going to Perros to-morrow, to pray on my father's
grave, and I shall ask M. Raoul de Chagny to go with me.' 'Do as you
please,' replied the voice, 'but I shall be at Perros too, for I am
wherever you are, Christine; and, if you are still worthy of me, if you
have not lied to me, I will play you The Resurrection of Lazarus, on
the stroke of midnight, on your father's tomb and on your father's
violin.' That, dear, was how I came to write you the letter that
brought you to Perros. How could I have been so beguiled? How was it,
when I saw the personal, the selfish point of view of the voice, that I
did not suspect some impostor? Alas, I was no longer mistress of
myself: I had become his thing!"
"But, after all," cried Raoul, "you soon came to know the truth! Why
did you not at once rid yourself of that abominable nightmare?"
"Know the truth, Raoul? Rid myself of that nightmare? But, my poor
boy, I was not caught in the nightmare until the day when I learned the
truth! ... Pity me, Raoul, pity me! ... You remember the terrible
evening when Carlotta thought that she had been turned into a toad on
the stage and when the house was suddenly plunged in darkness through
the chandelier crashing to the floor? There were killed and wounded
that night and the whole theater rang with terrified screams. My first
thought was for you and the voice. I was at once easy, where you were
concerned, for I had seen you in your brother's box and I knew that you
were not in danger. But the voice had told me that it would be at the
performance and I was really afraid for it, just as if it had been an
ordinary person who was capable of dying. I thought to myself, 'The
chandelier may have come down upon the voice.' I was then on the stage
and was nearly running into the house, to look for the voice among the
killed and wounded, when I thought that, if the voice was safe, it
would be sure to be in my dressing-room and I rushed to my room. The
voice was not there. I locked my door and, with tears in my eyes,
besought it, if it were still alive, to manifest itself to me. The
voice did not reply, but suddenly I heard a long, beautiful wail which
I knew well. It is the plaint of Lazarus when, at the sound of the
Redeemer's voice, he begins to open his eyes and see the light of day.
It was the music which you and I, Raoul, heard at Perros. And then the
voice began to sing the leading phrase, 'Come! And believe in me!
Whoso believes in me shall live! Walk! Whoso hath believed in me
shall never die! ...' I can not tell you the effect which that music
had upon me. It seemed to command me, personally, to come, to stand up
and come to it. It retreated and I followed. 'Come! And believe in
me!' I believed in it, I came ... I came and--this was the
extraordinary thing--my dressing-room, as I moved, seemed to lengthen
out ... to lengthen out ... Evidently, it must have been an effect of
mirrors ... for I had the mirror in front of me ... And, suddenly, I
was outside the room without knowing how!"