“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.
“Sir,” said Raoul, “I do not know what your intentions are, but can you do anything to help me? I mean, to help Christine Daaé?”
“I think so, M. de Chagny, and that is why I spoke to you.”
“What can you do?”
“Try to take you to her … and to him.”
“If you can do me that service, sir, my life is yours! … One word more: the commissary of police tells me that Christine Daaé has been carried off by my brother, Count Philippe.”
“Oh, M. de Chagny, I don’t believe a word of it.”
“It’s not possible, is it?”
“I don’t know if it is possible or not; but there are ways and ways of carrying people off; and M. le Comte Philippe has never, as far as I know, had anything to do with witchcraft.”
“Your arguments are convincing, sir, and I am a fool! … Oh, let us make haste! I place myself entirely in your hands! … How should I not believe you, when you are the only one to believe me … when you are the only one not to smile when Erik’s name is mentioned?”