XXIV. LES SUPPLICES COMMENCENT

XXIV

THE TORTURES BEGIN

(Continuation of the Persian's account)

The voice repeated furiously:

--What have you done with my bag? Christine Daaé should not have trembled more than we did.

--It was to take my bag from me that you wanted me to free you, eh?...

We heard hurried footsteps, Christine's run as she came back into the Louis-Philippe room, as if to seek shelter before our wall.

--Why do you flee? said the furious voice that had followed... Will you give me back my bag! Do you not know that it is the bag of life and death?

--Listen to me, Erik, sighed the young woman... since it is now agreed that we must live together... what does it matter to you?... All that is yours belongs to me!...

This was said in so trembling a way that it was pitiful. The unhappy girl must have been employing what energy remained to her to overcome her terror... But it was not with such childish tricks, spoken with chattering teeth, that one could take the monster by surprise.

--You know well there are only two keys in there... What is it you want to do? he asked.

--I should like, she said, to visit this room that I do not know and that you have always hidden from me... It is a woman's curiosity! she added, in a tone that sought to be playful and which could only have increased Erik's suspicion, so false did it ring...

--I do not like curious women! replied Erik, and you should beware since the story of Bluebeard... Come now! give me back my bag!... give me back my bag!... Will you leave the key!... Little curious one!

And he sniggered while Christine gave a cry of pain... Erik had just taken the bag back from her.

It was at this moment that the viscount, unable to restrain himself any longer, uttered a cry of rage and helplessness, which I with great difficulty stifled upon his lips...

--Ah but! said the monster... What was that?... Did you not hear, Christine?

--No! no! answered the unhappy girl; I heard nothing!

--It seemed to me someone had cried out!

--A cry!... Are you going mad, Erik?... Whom do you suppose would cry, at the depths of this dwelling?... It was I who cried, because you were hurting me!... I, I heard nothing!

--The way you say that!... You are trembling!... You are quite agitated!... You lie!... Someone cried! someone cried!... There is someone in the torture chamber!... Ah! I understand now!...

--There is no one, Erik!...

--I understand!...

--No one!...

--Your fiancé... perhaps!...

--Why, I have no fiancé!... You know it well!...

Another evil snigger.

--Besides, it is so easy to know... My little Christine, my love... one need not open the door to see what passes in the torture chamber... Do you want to see? do you want to see?... Look!... If there is someone... if there is truly someone, you shall see the invisible window light up all up there, near the ceiling... One has only to draw the black curtain and then put out the light here... There, it is done... Let us extinguish! You are not afraid of the dark, in the company of your little husband!...

Then we heard Christine's agonized voice.

--No!... I am afraid!... I tell you I am afraid in the dark!... This room no longer interests me at all!... It is you who are always frightening me, like a child, with this torture chamber!... So, I was curious, it is true!... But it no longer interests me at all... at all!...

And what I feared above all began _automatically_... We were suddenly flooded with light!... Yes, behind our wall, it was like a blaze. The Vicomte de Chagny, who did not expect it, was so surprised that he staggered. And the voice of anger burst out beside us.

--I told you there was someone!... There, do you see the window now?... the luminous window!... All up there!... He who is behind that wall does not see it himself!... But you, you shall climb the double ladder. It is there for that!... You have often asked me what it was for... Well! now you are informed!... It serves to look through the window of the torture chamber... little curious one!...

--What tortures?... what tortures are there inside?... Erik! Erik! tell me you want to frighten me!... Tell me so, if you love me, Erik!... Is it not that there are no tortures? They are stories for children!...

--Go look, my dear, at the little window!...

I do not know if the viscount, beside me, now heard the failing voice of the young woman, so occupied was he with the unheard-of spectacle that had just arisen before his distraught gaze... As for me, who had seen that spectacle already too often, through the little window of the _Rose Hours of Mazenderan_, I was occupied only with what was being said beside us, seeking therein a reason to act, a resolution to take.

--Go look, go look at the little window!... You will tell me!... You will tell me afterward _how his nose is made!_

We heard the ladder roll as it was placed against the wall...

--Climb then!... No!... No, I shall climb... I, my dear!...

--Well! yes... I shall look... let me!

--Ah! my little dear!... My little dear!... how sweet you are... Very kind of you to spare me that trouble at my age!... You will tell me how his nose is made!... If people only suspected the happiness there is in having a nose... a nose all one's own... they would never come strolling into the torture chamber!...

At that moment, we distinctly heard above our heads these words:

--_My friend, there is no one!_...

--No one?... Are you sure there is no one?...

--Upon my word, no... there is no one...

--Well, so much the better!... What is the matter, Christine?... Come now, what! You are not going to faint!... Since there is no one!... There!... come down!... there!... compose yourself! since there is no one... _But how do you find the landscape?_...

--Oh! very fine!...

--Come! that is better!... Is it not, that is better!... So much the better, that is better!... No emotion!... And what a strange house it is, is it not, where one can see such landscapes?...

--Yes, one would think oneself at the Musée Grévin!... But, tell me, Erik... there are no tortures in there!... Do you know you gave me a fright!...

--Why, since there is no one!...

--It was you who made that room, Erik?... Do you know it is very beautiful! Decidedly, you are a great artist, Erik...

--Yes, a great artist "of my kind".

--But, tell me, Erik, why did you call this room the torture chamber?...

--Oh! it is quite simple. First, what did you see?

--I saw a forest!...

--And what is there in a forest?

--Trees!...

--And what is there in a tree?

--Birds...

--You saw birds...

--No, I did not see birds.

--Then what did you see! think!... You saw branches! And what is there in a branch? said the terrible voice... There is a gallows! That is why I call my forest the torture chamber!... You see, it is only a manner of speaking! All that is for a joke!... I never express myself like others!... I do nothing like others!... But I am very tired of it!... very tired!... I have had enough, do you see? of having a forest in my house, and a torture chamber!... And of being lodged like a charlatan at the bottom of a box with a false bottom!... I have had enough! I have had enough!... I want a quiet apartment, with ordinary doors and windows and an honest woman inside, like everyone else!... You should understand that, Christine, and I should not need to repeat it to you at every turn!... A woman like everyone else!... A woman whom I would love, whom I would walk out with on Sundays, and make laugh all the week! Ah! you would not be bored with me! I have more than one trick in my bag, not counting the card tricks!... Look! shall I do you some card tricks? That will help pass a few minutes, while waiting for tomorrow evening, eleven o'clock!... My little Christine!... My little Christine!... Are you listening to me?... You no longer push me away!... eh? You love me!... No! you do not love me!... But it does not matter! you will love me! Formerly, you could not look at my mask because you knew what is behind it... And now you are willing to look at it and you forget what is behind it, and you are willing no longer to push me away!... One grows accustomed to everything, when one is willing... when one has the good will!... How many young people who did not love each other before marriage adored each other after! Ah! I no longer know what I am saying... But you would amuse yourself well with me!... There is not one like me, I swear before the good God who will marry us--if you are reasonable--there is not one like me for being a ventriloquist! I am the first ventriloquist in the world!... You laugh!... Perhaps you do not believe me!... Listen!

The wretch (who was indeed the first ventriloquist in the world) was dizzying the little one (I was perfectly aware of it) to divert her attention from the torture chamber!... Stupid calculation!... Christine thought only of us!... She repeated several times, in the gentlest tone she could find and with the most ardent supplication:

"Put out the little window!... Erik! do put out the little window!..."

For she well thought that this light, suddenly appearing at the little window, and of which the monster had spoken in so threatening a fashion, had its terrible reason for being... The single thing that could momentarily reassure her was that she had seen us both, behind the wall, in the center of the magnificent blaze, standing and in good health!... But she would have been more reassured, certainly!... if the light had gone out...

The other had already begun to do the ventriloquism. He said:

--Look! I lift my mask a little! Oh! only a little... You see my lips? What I have of lips? They do not move!... My mouth is closed... my sort of mouth... and yet you hear my voice!... I speak with my belly... it is quite natural... it is called being a ventriloquist!... It is well known: listen to my voice... where do you want it to go? Into your left ear? into your right ear?... into the table?... into the little ebony caskets on the mantelpiece?... Ah! that astonishes you... My voice is in the little caskets on the mantelpiece! Do you want it distant?... Do you want it near?... Resounding?... Sharp?... Nasal?... My voice walks everywhere!... everywhere!... Listen, my dear... in the little casket on the right of the mantelpiece, and listen to what it says: _Shall we turn the scorpion?_... And now, crack! listen to what it says in the little casket on the left: _Shall we turn the grasshopper?_... And now, crack!... Here it is in the little leather bag... What does it say? "I am the little _bag of life and death!_" And now, crack!... here it is in the throat of Carlotta, at the bottom of the golden throat, the crystal throat of Carlotta, upon my word!... What does it say? It says: "It is I, Mister Toad! it is I who sing: _I listen to that lonely voice... croak!... that sings in my croak!_..." And now, crack, it has arrived on a chair in the phantom's box... and it says: "Madame Carlotta sings tonight _enough to bring the chandelier down!_..." And now, crack!... Ah! ah! ah! ah!... where is Erik's voice?... Listen, Christine, my dear!... Listen... It is behind the door of the torture chamber!... Listen to me!... It is I who am in the torture chamber!... And what do I say? I say: "Woe to those who have the happiness of having a nose, a true nose of their own and who come strolling into the torture chamber!... Ah! ah! ah!"

Accursed voice of the formidable ventriloquist! It was everywhere, everywhere!... It passed through the invisible little window... through the walls... it ran around us... between us... Erik was there!... He spoke to us!... We made a gesture as if to throw ourselves upon him... but already, swifter, more ungraspable than the sonorous voice of Echo, Erik's voice had rebounded behind the wall!...

Soon, we could hear nothing at all, for this is what happened:

Christine's voice:

--Erik! Erik!... You tire me with your voice... Be silent, Erik!.. Do you not find it warm in here?...

--Oh! Yes! answers Erik's voice, the heat is becoming unbearable!...

And again Christine's gasping voice of anguish:

--What is that!... The wall is quite hot!... The wall is burning!...

--I shall tell you, Christine, my dear, it is because of "the forest next door!..."

--Well!... what do you mean!... the forest?...

--_Did you not see that it was a forest of the Congo?_

And the monster's laugh rose so terrible that we could no longer distinguish Christine's supplicating clamors!... The Vicomte de Chagny cried and beat against the walls like a madman... I could no longer hold him back... But one heard only the monster's laugh... and the monster himself could have heard only his laugh... And then there was the noise of a rapid struggle, of a body falling on the floor and being dragged... and the slam of a door shut with full force... and then, nothing more, nothing more around us but the fiery silence of noon... at the heart of an African forest!...

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“Stories of the world, in your language.”