“Oh, I doubt if she will come back! … But it is your duty to let her go.”
“My duty, you great booby! … It is my wish … my wish to let her go; and she will come back again … for she loves me! … All this will end in a marriage … a marriage at the Madeleine, you great booby! Do you believe me now? When I tell you that my nuptial mass is written … wait till you hear the ‘Kyrie’. …”
He beat time with his heels on the planks of the boat and sang:
“ Kyrie! … Kyrie! … Kyrie eleison! … Wait till you hear, wait till you hear that mass.”
“Look here,” I said. “I shall believe you if I see Christine Daaé come out of the house on the lake and go back to it of her own accord.”
“And you won’t meddle any more in my affairs?”
“No.”
“Very well, you shall see that tonight. Come to the masked ball. Christine and I will go and have a look round. Then you can hide in the lumber-room and you shall see Christine, who will have gone to her dressing-room, delighted to come back by the Communists’ road. … And, now, be off, for I must go and do some shopping!”
To my intense astonishment, things happened as he had announced. Christine Daaé left the house on the lake and returned to it several times, without, apparently, being forced to do so. It was very difficult for me to clear my mind of Erik. However, I resolved to be extremely prudent, and did not make the mistake of returning to the shore of the lake, or of going by the Communists’ road. But the idea of the secret entrance in the third cellar haunted me, and I repeatedly went and waited for hours behind a scene from the Roi de Lahore , which had been left there for some reason or other. At last my patience was rewarded. One day, I saw