The count saw that the window had been pierced by a bullet at a man’s height. Raoul was leaning over the balcony with his candle:

“Aha!” he said. “Blood!⁠ ⁠… Blood!⁠ ⁠… Here, there, more blood!⁠ ⁠… That’s a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!” he grinned.

“Raoul! Raoul! Raoul!”

The count was shaking him as though he were trying to waken a sleepwalker.

“But, my dear brother, I’m not asleep!” Raoul protested impatiently. “You can see the blood for yourself. I thought I had been dreaming and firing at two stars. It was Erik’s eyes⁠ ⁠… and here is his blood!⁠ ⁠… After all, perhaps I was wrong to shoot; and Christine is quite capable of never forgiving me.⁠ ⁠… All this would not have happened if I had drawn the curtains before going to bed.”

“Raoul, have you suddenly gone mad? Wake up!”