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."