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Updated: May 20, 2025
Raoul's first thought, after Christine Daae's fantastic disappearance, was to accuse Erik. He no longer doubted the almost supernatural powers of the Angel of Music, in this domain of the Opera in which he had set up his empire. And Raoul rushed on the stage, in a mad fit of love and despair. "Christine!
The Persian stopped Raoul and, in the softest of whispers, asked: "What did you say to the commissary?" "I said that Christine Daae's abductor was the Angel of Music, ALIAS the Opera ghost, and that the real name was ..." "Hush! ... And did he believe you?" "No." "He attached no importance to what you said?" "No." "He took you for a bit of a madman?" "Yes."
"Sir," said the Persian, "your tall hat will be in your way: you would do well to leave it in the dressing-room." "What dressing-room?" asked Raoul. "Christine Daae's." And the Persian, letting Raoul through the door which he had just opened, showed him the actress' room opposite.
To Christine Daae's assistance..." "Then, sir, stay here, for Christine Daae is here!" "With Erik?" "With Erik." "How do you know?" "I was at the performance and no one in the world but Erik could contrive an abduction like that! ... Oh," he said, with a deep sigh, "I recognized the monster's touch! ..." "You know him then?" The Persian did not reply, but heaved a fresh sigh.
The Angel of Music played a part in all Daddy Daae's tales; and he maintained that every great musician, every great artist received a visit from the Angel at least once in his life. Sometimes the Angel leans over their cradle, as happened to Lotte, and that is how there are little prodigies who play the fiddle at six better than men at fifty, which, you must admit, is very wonderful.
Daae's curious action in going out at that hour had worried me at first; but, as soon as I saw her go to the churchyard, I thought that she meant to fulfil some pious duty on her father's grave and I considered this so natural that I recovered all my calmness. I was only surprised that she had not heard me walking behind her, for my footsteps were quite audible on the hard snow.
"Amidst smoke and ashes amidst anxiety and sleepless nights Waldemar Daae's hair had turned grey; so had his beard and the thin locks on his forehead; his skin had become wrinkled and yellow, his eyes ever straining after gold the expected gold. "I whisked smoke and ashes into his face and beard: debts came instead of gold.
Then he also went down among the crowd, hardly knowing what he was doing, with throbbing temples and an aching heart; and, as he crossed the dancing-floor, he asked if anybody had seen Red Death. Yes, every one had seen Red Death; but Raoul could not find him; and, at two o'clock in the morning, he turned down the passage, behind the scenes, that led to Christine Daae's dressing-room.
He told him that, when he felt his end to be very near at hand, he would send him, in gratitude for the kindness which the Persian had once shown him, that which he held dearest in the world: all Christine Daae's papers, which she had written for Raoul's benefit and left with Erik, together with a few objects belonging to her, such as a pair of gloves, a shoe-buckle and two pocket-handkerchiefs.
But perhaps it was not the eleven o'clock of which we stood in dread. Perhaps we had still twelve hours before us! Suddenly, I exclaimed: "Hush!" I seemed to hear footsteps in the next room. Some one tapped against the wall. Christine Daae's voice said: "Raoul! Raoul!" We were now all talking at once, on either side of the wall.
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