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Updated: June 4, 2025
M. de Chagny and I had repeatedly taken off our coats and put them on again, finding at one time that they made us feel still hotter and at another that they protected us against the heat. I was still making a moral resistance, but M. de Chagny seemed to me quite "gone." He pretended that he had been walking in that forest for three days and nights, without stopping, looking for Christine Daae!
I also went into the past history of the Persian and found that he was an upright man, incapable of inventing a story that might have defeated the ends of justice. This, moreover, was the opinion of the more serious people who, at one time or other, were mixed up in the Chagny case, who were friends of the Chagny family, to whom I showed all my documents and set forth all my inferences.
"A ghost," he said, "who, on the same evening, carries off an opera-singer and steals twenty-thousand francs is a ghost who must have his hands very full! If you don't mind, we will take the questions in order. The singer first, the twenty-thousand francs after. Come, M. de Chagny, let us try to talk seriously. You believe that Mlle.
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!
The man in the mask took it from her hands and gave it to the Persian. M. de Chagny was still sleeping. Erik poured a drop of rum into the daroga's cup and, pointing to the viscount, said: "He came to himself long before we knew if you were still alive, daroga. He is quite well. He is asleep. We must not wake him."
"I don't know for a moment whether M. le Comte de Chagny has really carried Christine Daae off or not ... but I want to know and I believe that, at this moment, no one is more anxious to inform us than his brother ... And now he is flying in pursuit of him! He is my chief auxiliary!
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!"
I had discovered, near the Punjab lasso, in a groove in the floor, a black-headed nail of which I knew the use. At last I had discovered the spring! I felt the nail ... I lifted a radiant face to M. de Chagny ... The black-headed nail yielded to my pressure ... And then ... And then we saw not a door opened in the wall, but a cellar-flap released in the floor.
When the two sisters married, on the same day, they received their portion from their brother, not as a thing rightfully belonging to them, but as a dowry for which they thanked him. The Comtesse de Chagny, nee de Moerogis de La Martyniere, had died in giving birth to Raoul, who was born twenty years after his elder brother. At the time of the old count's death, Raoul was twelve years of age.
Mercier, the acting-manager, called the Vicomte de Chagny's attention to him and said: "This is the gentleman to whom you should put your question, monsieur. Let me introduce Mifroid, the commissary of police." "Ah, M. le Vicomte de Chagny! Delighted to meet you, monsieur," said the commissary. "Would you mind coming with me? ... And now where are the managers? ... Where are the managers?"
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