Raoul went on making this strange sort of remarks which corresponded so
intimately and logically with the preoccupation of his brain and which,
at the same time, tended to persuade many people that his mind was
unhinged. The count himself was seized with this idea; and, later, the
examining magistrate, on receiving the report of the commissary of
police, came to the same conclusion.
"Who is Erik?" asked the count, pressing his brother's hand.
"He is my rival. And, if he's not dead, it's a pity."
He dismissed the servants with a wave of the hand and the two Chagnys
were left alone. But the men were not out of earshot before the
count's valet heard Raoul say, distinctly and emphatically: "I shall carry off Christine Daae to-night."
This phrase was afterward repeated to M. Faure, the
examining-magistrate. But no one ever knew exactly what passed between
the two brothers at this interview. The servants declared that this
was not their first quarrel. Their voices penetrated the wall; and it
was always an actress called Christine Daae that was in question.
At breakfast--the early morning breakfast, which the count took in his
study--Philippe sent for his brother. Raoul arrived silent and gloomy.
The scene was a very short one. Philippe handed his brother a copy of
the Epoque and said: "Read that!"
The viscount read: "The latest news in the Faubourg is that there is a promise of marriage
between Mlle. Christine Daae, the opera-singer, and M. le Vicomte Raoul
de Chagny. If the gossips are to be credited, Count Philippe has sworn
that, for the first time on record, the Chagnys shall not keep their
promise. But, as love is all-powerful, at the Opera as--and even more
than--elsewhere, we wonder how Count Philippe intends to prevent the
viscount, his brother, from leading the new Margarita to the altar.
The two brothers are said to adore each other; but the count is
curiously mistaken if he imagines that brotherly love will triumph over
love pure and simple."
"You see, Raoul," said the count, "you are making us ridiculous! That
little girl has turned your head with her ghost-stories."
The viscount had evidently repeated Christine's narrative to his
brother, during the night. All that he now said was: "Good-by, Philippe."
"Have you quite made up your mind? You are going to-night? With her?"
No reply.
"Surely you will not do anything so foolish? I SHALL know how to
prevent you!"
"Good-by, Philippe," said the viscount again and left the room.
This scene was described to the examining-magistrate by the count
himself, who did not see Raoul again until that evening, at the Opera,
a few minutes before Christine's disappearance.
Raoul, in fact, devoted the whole day to his preparations for the
flight. The horses, the carriage, the coachman, the provisions, the
luggage, the money required for the journey, the road to be taken (he
had resolved not to go by train, so as to throw the ghost off the
scent): all this had to be settled and provided for; and it occupied
him until nine o'clock at night.