| ~ Chapter 3 ~ |
| To the onlookers in Christine�s neighborhood, it seemed as if a stroke of good fortune had come to their resident songbird. A gilded carriage awaited her, and a handsome young man was helping her from her flat into the magnificent coach. She seemed a bit nervous and pale, normal reactions for a woman of her station who was suddenly being elevated to the position of a true lady. She also glanced about helplessly, as if she did not comprehend what was happening to her. Christine�s landlady waved her handkerchief in salute to the lovely Mlle. Daae and the handsome Vicomte de Chagny. �Au revoir, mon cherie!� the old woman cried. �Come back and sing for us sometime!� Christine seemed to be on the verge of tears as she looked back to the humble dwelling. The neighbors marveled at her empathy and remarked that she was such a sweet girl to weep at leaving their simple neighborhood. The Vicomte pressed her into the coach; then he turned and ceremoniously threw a handful of gold coins into the street, a sure sign that he intended to wed Mlle. Daae. The crowd cheered and scrambled about to pick up the gold pieces. As the carriage rumbled away, they smiled and waved, then returned to their flats, believing that they had seen a Cinderella story come true. Christine strained to look out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone who could help her, but the coach was moving at a mighty pace, and she feared that all hope was lost. When the carriage passed by the Paris Opera House, she summoned her courage and tried to throw herself from the coach, but Raoul was upon her in an instant, dragging her back through the window. �ERIK!� she screamed, tossing her note into the street. Dr. Ratierre had been prepared for any sign of hysterics that Mlle. Daae might display. The Vicomte had hired him with the express intent of a discreet exit from Paris, and the good physician did not want his new patient to injure herself. He took a bottle of chloral from his pocket and doused his handkerchief with the oppressive fluid. As Raoul pressed Christine back into the coach, the doctor brought the chloroform-soaked rag to her nose and mouth, easily muffling her cries. She struggled futilely for a moment, then fainted dead away. The doctor cast a glance back at the Opera House, and shook his head sadly. �She�s worse than I thought,� he said. * * * * * * Christine�s landlady was rather confused when another coach came for Mademoiselle Daae later that evening. She was even more distressed by the gentleman caller himself. The man before her was dressed all in black, and a mask obscured the right side of his face. A foreign gentleman accompanied him, and the woman could tell that they both seemed rather anxious. She clicked her tongue in disapproval, thinking to turn them away. But the masked gentleman reached out and spoke to her in such soft, genteel tones. There was something so magnificent about his voice that she found she could not concentrate. She could only listen to him with a rapt expression on her face. �Where is Mlle. Daae?� he was saying. �I�m sorry, Monsieur,� the old woman apologized, shaking herself from her stupor. �She left earlier with the Vicomte de Chagny.� �Impossible!� the masked man cried, pounding his fist on the wall. The lady pulled back in alarm, surprised at his outburst. But the foreign gentleman seemed to note her distress, and he quickly stepped forward. �Pardon us, Madame,� the foreigner said, �but are you quite sure?� �Of course,� the landlady replied. �We all came out to wish her well. The Vicomte even threw coins to show good faith.� �I can�t believe this!� the Phantom protested. �May I see her flat?� �Erik!� Nadir scolded softly. �I usually do not allow strange men to enter a young lady�s apartment,� the old woman harrumphed. �But as Miss Daae will no longer have any need of it, I will show you the place. Perhaps it will take your fancy.� Against her better judgment, the landlady led the masked man and his foreign companion up the stairs to Christine�s room. Erik paid her a gold piece for her trouble then cautiously entered Christine�s flat. The place still smelled of her, and he nearly wept at the emptiness of the rooms. She had just been here, he was sure of it! �How long ago did they leave?� he managed to ask. �A few hours ago,� the landlady replied. �And where were they going?� he asked haltingly. �Off to some exotic locale for their honeymoon, I suppose.� Erik felt faint. The room seemed to swim before his eyes, as he tried to register the old woman�s words. It could not be true! Christine had promised to leave with him! The Phantom nearly choked on his tears as he turned from the flat and fled down the stairs. Nadir was close on his heels, following him to the carriage�the carriage that would take them nowhere tonight. Erik fell into the coach and put his head in his hands, trying desperately to fight his tears. He heard Ayesha mew and felt her press gently against him, offering the comfort of her small body. He impulsively gathered her into his arms and held her close, hoping to abate the tide of pain that threatened to overwhelm him Nadir was outside of the coach, telling the driver that there had been a change of plans. They were to go to the Rue de Rivoli, and Erik would stay there with him. The Phantom wanted to protest and tell the driver to take him throughout all of Europe until he found Christine. But he could not think clearly, and the devastating news of Christine�s departure was too much for him to bear. He could only stare helplessly out the window, trying to grasp the strange turn of events that had taken Christine away from him yet again. * * * In the hazy world of her dreams, Christine searched for Erik. She dreamt she was running through the labyrinth of his underworld, trying desperately to find him. But Raoul seemed to appear at every turn, his golden smile filled with malevolence as he dragged her back to the surface, away from her beloved Phantom. She fought hard against the drug-induced dreams, and struggled to open her eyes. She could barely make out the details of Raoul�s country estate guestroom, and she nearly wept to find herself there. She had once taken sanctuary in this very room over six months ago when she had first run from Erik. At that time, the room had been a refuge, a place to contemplate her confused feelings for her dark angel. But now, the room seemed more like a prison. Her arms were held fast by some sort of hospital restraints, and the doctor and his team of nurses seemed to hover around her like wretched specters. Christine cried out, begging for release, but the only answer to her plea was another dose of laudanum. As the doctor administered the drug, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, �There is no Angel of Music.� �No!� Christine screamed, resisting his words with all of her might. But she could not fight the effects of the laudanum, and she soon found herself falling into her shattered dreamscape once again. Christine ran through the mists, wondering if she would ever wake from the nightmare that her life had become. * * * Nadir did not know what to do for his friend. As they drove to his small flat on the Rue de Rivoli, the Daroga tried to offer words of comfort, but Erik did not seem to hear him. He had become a lifeless statue, an empty vessel of a man. At last, the carriage pulled up to Nadir�s building, and the Daroga stepped from the coach to help the driver remove the Phantom�s trunks. Erik blindly descended the hansom and follwed the Persian into his home. Erik moved like a man in a trance. He knew that Ayesha lay in his arms, and he held her safely there, intent on knowing that at least one creature in his wretched existence truly loved him. But beyond that, nothing else mattered. He heard Nadir dismiss the carriage driver, and listened as the Daroga began to bustle about. He could sense the oppressive dust of Nadir�s flat, could smell the mustiness of the place, but none of that bothered him. He rather liked the dark place. It reminded him of his tomb beneath the Opera house, the tomb he wished he was in now. �Where is my coffin?� he asked abstractly. �What?� Nadir sputtered, nearly choking on his brandy. �My coffin,� Erik insisted. �It should be here.� Nadir shrugged helplessly and tried to guide Erik to the cot he had made for him. �Just rest, my friend,� he offered gently. �There is nothing left for me to do but die now,� Erik murmured. �I have tasted Heaven. What more did I expect?� �Do not pursue this line of thinking,� Nadir cautioned. �Erik, I beg of you!� The Phantom fell silent and finally lay down on the cot. He clutched Ayesha to him, and she stirred in his arms only to lick away his tears. ~ Chapter 4 ~ Back |