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."




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