“It’s he!” he exclaimed. “This time, he shall not escape me! …”
But Christine had slammed the door at the moment when Raoul was on the point of rushing out. He tried to push her aside.
“Whom do you mean by ‘he’?” she asked, in a changed voice. “Who shall not escape you?”
Raoul tried to overcome the girl’s resistance by force, but she repelled him with a strength which he would not have suspected in her. He understood, or thought he understood, and at once lost his temper.
“Who?” he repeated angrily. “Why, he, the man who hides behind that hideous mask of death! … The evil genius of the churchyard at Perros! … Red Death! … In a word, madam, your friend … your Angel of Music! … But I shall snatch off his mask, as I shall snatch off my own; and, this time, we shall look each other in the face, he and I, with no veil and no lies between us; and I shall know whom you love and who loves you!”
He burst into a mad laugh, while Christine gave a disconsolate moan behind her velvet mask. With a tragic gesture, she flung out her two arms, which fixed a barrier of white flesh against the door.
“In the name of our love, Raoul, you shall not pass! …”
He stopped. What had she said? … In the name of their love? … Never before had she confessed that she loved him. And yet she had had opportunities enough. … Pooh, her only object was to gain a few seconds! … She wished to give the Red Death time to escape. … And, in accents of childish hatred, he said:
“You lie, madam, for you do not love me and you have never loved me! What a poor fellow I must be to let you mock and flout me as you have done! Why did you give me every reason for hope, at Perros … for honest hope, madam, for I am an honest man and I believed you to be an honest