Chapter XXII In the Torture Chamber

THE PERSIAN'S NARRATIVE CONTINUED

We were in the middle of a little six-cornered room, the sides of which

were covered with mirrors from top to bottom. In the corners, we could

clearly see the "joins" in the glasses, the segments intended to turn

on their gear; yes, I recognized them and I recognized the iron tree in

the corner, at the bottom of one of those segments ... the iron tree,

with its iron branch, for the hanged men.

I seized my companion's arm: the Vicomte de Chagny was all a-quiver,

eager to shout to his betrothed that he was bringing her help. I

feared that he would not be able to contain himself.

Suddenly, we heard a noise on our left. It sounded at first like a

door opening and shutting in the next room; and then there was a dull

moan. I clutched M. de Chagny's arm more firmly still; and then we

distinctly heard these words:

"You must make your choice! The wedding mass or the requiem mass!" I

recognized the voice of the monster.

There was another moan, followed by a long silence.

I was persuaded by now that the monster was unaware of our presence in

his house, for otherwise he would certainly have managed not to let us

hear him. He would only have had to close the little invisible window

through which the torture-lovers look down into the torture-chamber.

Besides, I was certain that, if he had known of our presence, the

tortures would have begun at once.

The important thing was not to let him know; and I dreaded nothing so

much as the impulsiveness of the Vicomte de Chagny, who wanted to rush

through the walls to Christine Daae, whose moans we continued to hear

at intervals.

"The requiem mass is not at all gay," Erik's voice resumed, "whereas

the wedding mass--you can take my word for it--is magnificent! You

must take a resolution and know your own mind! I can't go on living

like this, like a mole in a burrow! Don Juan Triumphant is finished;

and now I want to live like everybody else. I want to have a wife like

everybody else and to take her out on Sundays. I have invented a mask

that makes me look like anybody. People will not even turn round in

the streets. You will be the happiest of women. And we will sing, all

by ourselves, till we swoon away with delight. You are crying! You

are afraid of me! And yet I am not really wicked. Love me and you

shall see! All I wanted was to be loved for myself. If you loved me I

should be as gentle as a lamb; and you could do anything with me that

you pleased."

Soon the moans that accompanied this sort of love's litany increased

and increased. I have never heard anything more despairing; and M. de

Chagny and I recognized that this terrible lamentation came from Erik

himself. Christine seemed to be standing dumb with horror, without the

strength to cry out, while the monster was on his knees before her.

Three times over, Erik fiercely bewailed his fate:

"You don't love me! You don't love me! You don't love me!"

And then, more gently:

"Why do you cry? You know it gives me pain to see you cry!"

A silence.

Each silence gave us fresh hope. We said to ourselves:

"Perhaps he has left Christine behind the wall."

And we thought only of the possibility of warning Christine Daae of our

presence, unknown to the monster. We were unable to leave the

torture-chamber now, unless Christine opened the door to us; and it was

only on this condition that we could hope to help her, for we did not

even know where the door might be.

Suddenly, the silence in the next room was disturbed by the ringing of

an electric bell. There was a bound on the other side of the wall and

Erik's voice of thunder:

"Somebody ringing! Walk in, please!"

A sinister chuckle.

"Who has come bothering now? Wait for me here ... I AM GOING TO TELL

THE SIREN TO OPEN THE DOOR."

Steps moved away, a door closed. I had no time to think of the fresh

horror that was preparing; I forgot that the monster was only going out

perhaps to perpetrate a fresh crime; I understood but one thing:

Christine was alone behind the wall!

The Vicomte de Chagny was already calling to her:

"Christine! Christine!"

As we could hear what was said in the next room, there was no reason

why my companion should not be heard in his turn. Nevertheless, the

viscount had to repeat his cry time after time.

At last, a faint voice reached us.

"I am dreaming!" it said.

"Christine, Christine, it is I, Raoul!"

A silence.

"But answer me, Christine! ... In Heaven's name, if you are alone,

answer me!"

Then Christine's voice whispered Raoul's name.

"Yes! Yes! It is I! It is not a dream! ... Christine, trust me! ...

We are here to save you ... but be prudent! When you hear the monster,

warn us!"

Then Christine gave way to fear. She trembled lest Erik should

discover where Raoul was hidden; she told us in a few hurried words

that Erik had gone quite mad with love and that he had decided TO KILL

EVERYBODY AND HIMSELF WITH EVERYBODY if she did not consent to become

his wife. He had given her till eleven o'clock the next evening for

reflection. It was the last respite. She must choose, as he said,

between the wedding mass and the requiem.

And Erik had then uttered a phrase which Christine did not quite

understand:

"Yes or no! If your answer is no, everybody will be dead AND BURIED!"

But I understood the sentence perfectly, for it corresponded in a

terrible manner with my own dreadful thought.

"Can you tell us where Erik is?" I asked.

She replied that he must have left the house.

"Could you make sure?"

"No. I am fastened. I can not stir a limb."

When we heard this, M. de Chagny and I gave a yell of fury. Our

safety, the safety of all three of us, depended on the girl's liberty

of movement.

"But where are you?" asked Christine. "There are only two doors in my

room, the Louis-Philippe room of which I told you, Raoul; a door

through which Erik comes and goes, and another which he has never

opened before me and which he has forbidden me ever to go through,

because he says it is the most dangerous of the doors, the door of the

torture-chamber!"

"Christine, that is where we are!"

"You are in the torture-chamber?"

"Yes, but we can not see the door."

"Oh, if I could only drag myself so far! I would knock at the door and

that would tell you where it is."

"Is it a door with a lock to it?" I asked.

"Yes, with a lock."

"Mademoiselle," I said, "it is absolutely necessary, that you should

open that door to us!"

"But how?" asked the poor girl tearfully.

We heard her straining, trying to free herself from the bonds that held

her.

"I know where the key is," she said, in a voice that seemed exhausted

by the effort she had made. "But I am fastened so tight ... Oh, the

wretch!"

And she gave a sob.

"Where is the key?" I asked, signing to M. de Chagny not to speak and

to leave the business to me, for we had not a moment to lose.

"In the next room, near the organ, with another little bronze key,

which he also forbade me to touch. They are both in a little leather

bag which he calls the bag of life and death... Raoul! Raoul! Fly!

Everything is mysterious and terrible here, and Erik will soon have

gone quite mad, and you are in the torture-chamber! ... Go back by the

way you came. There must be a reason why the room is called by that

name!"

"Christine," said the young man. "We will go from here together or die

together!"

"We must keep cool," I whispered. "Why has he fastened you,

mademoiselle? You can't escape from his house; and he knows it!"

"I tried to commit suicide! The monster went out last night, after

carrying me here fainting and half chloroformed. He was going TO HIS

BANKER, so he said! ... When he returned he found me with my face

covered with blood ... I had tried to kill myself by striking my

forehead against the walls."

"Christine!" groaned Raoul; and he began to sob.

"Then he bound me ... I am not allowed to die until eleven o'clock

to-morrow evening."

"Mademoiselle," I declared, "the monster bound you ... and he shall

unbind you. You have only to play the necessary part! Remember that

he loves you!"

"Alas!" we heard. "Am I likely to forget it!"

"Remember it and smile to him ... entreat him ... tell him that your

bonds hurt you."

But Christine Daae said:

"Hush! ... I hear something in the wall on the lake! ... It is he! ...

Go away! Go away! Go away!"

"We could not go away, even if we wanted to," I said, as impressively

as I could. "We can not leave this! And we are in the

torture-chamber!"

"Hush!" whispered Christine again.

Heavy steps sounded slowly behind the wall, then stopped and made the

floor creak once more. Next came a tremendous sigh, followed by a cry

of horror from Christine, and we heard Erik's voice:

"I beg your pardon for letting you see a face like this! What a state

I am in, am I not? It's THE OTHER ONE'S FAULT! Why did he ring? Do I

ask people who pass to tell me the time? He will never ask anybody the

time again! It is the siren's fault."

[Illustration: two page color illustration]

Another sigh, deeper, more tremendous still, came from the abysmal

depths of a soul.

"Why did you cry out, Christine?"

"Because I am in pain, Erik."

"I thought I had frightened you."

"Erik, unloose my bonds ... Am I not your prisoner?"

"You will try to kill yourself again."

"You have given me till eleven o'clock to-morrow evening, Erik."

The footsteps dragged along the floor again.

"After all, as we are to die together ... and I am just as eager as you

... yes, I have had enough of this life, you know... Wait, don't move,

I will release you ... You have only one word to say: 'NO!' And it

will at once be over WITH EVERYBODY! ... You are right, you are right;

why wait till eleven o'clock to-morrow evening? True, it would have

been grander, finer ... But that is childish nonsense ... We should

only think of ourselves in this life, of our own death ... the rest

doesn't matter... YOU'RE LOOKING AT ME BECAUSE I AM ALL WET? ... Oh,

my dear, it's raining cats and dogs outside! ... Apart from that,

Christine, I think I am subject to hallucinations ... You know, the

man who rang at the siren's door just now--go and look if he's ringing

at the bottom of the lake-well, he was rather like... There, turn

round ... are you glad? You're free now... Oh, my poor Christine,

look at your wrists: tell me, have I hurt them? ... That alone

deserves death ... Talking of death, I MUST SING HIS REQUIEM!"

Hearing these terrible remarks, I received an awful presentiment ... I

too had once rung at the monster's door ... and, without knowing it,

must have set some warning current in motion.

And I remembered the two arms that had emerged from the inky waters...

What poor wretch had strayed to that shore this time? Who was 'the

other one,' the one whose requiem we now heard sung?

Erik sang like the god of thunder, sang a DIES IRAE that enveloped us

as in a storm. The elements seemed to rage around us. Suddenly, the

organ and the voice ceased so suddenly that M. de Chagny sprang back,

on the other side of the wall, with emotion. And the voice, changed

and transformed, distinctly grated out these metallic syllables: "WHAT

HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BAG?"