Part 3

A little later, outside the interview room, Christine felt a shiver in her spine. With an effort, as though she were about to go on stage, she braced herself and, head held high, followed the prioress into the room. Erik waited there, impeccably dressed, elegantly masked. Christine heard a soft gasp from him as he saw her, but she went straight to her chair. Slowly he moved to the other chair, and she thought he trembled a little.

She could not allow herself to be weakened by pity. "I suppose I should thank you for coming in by the front door," she flung at him. "I might have expected you to appear out of the walls."

She must have imagined that tremor in him. There was no sign of it now in his rigid dignity. "I have no objection to following the rules of this house." He glanced at the prioress in her corner. "Provided it gets me what I want."

"And what is that?"

"To speak to you. To find out what brought you here, and to see if you now understand that your voice cannot be hidden in the anonymity of a choir."

"Oh, but it can, and did for my first months here. You taught me that," she hesitated, "when you used to sing in your soprano voice, and make me follow you, so that our two voices sounded like one. You said it would give me control, and it did. I can blend with the rest. But the precentress who directs our choir said that to do so was a waste, like the servant in the parable who buried his talent and made no use of it. My voice is a gift from God, and should be used to sing to his glory."

"Your voice is a gift from God?" he questioned ironically.

"Yes, it is," she answered defiantly. "But… my skill in using it, my joy in music… those are gifts from you, Erik. I do not forget that."

He reached across the table and took her hand, and for a moment the gesture looked tender. But he turned her hand over to look at the palm and the back, then threw it from him almost contemptuously.

"They have you scrubbing floors here?"

"Why not? This is a community. Floors have to be scrubbed, dishes have to be washed. We have none of the clever machines you invented to make light of such tasks. We all do our share."

"Wasting your energies on servants' work! And yet you talk of burying talents. Even the boy would have saved you from that. When you went off with him, I thought you would marry him. What happened? Did he realise that a nobleman should not marry an actress? Did his family drive you away? Or did you come to your senses and realise that he is unworthy of you?"

"I… there were many reasons. Raoul would have married me, but… in the end it was I who left him."

"And did he pursue you? Did he drive you into these walls? You had no need to do that, Christine. There are… other ways that you could have been rid of him if he troubled you. I saw him arrive here earlier, full of hope, and I saw him depart, downcast but not despairing, full of schemes and resolutions. You had only to ask… no, you need not even ask. I shall watch him. He shall not be permitted to harass you."

"Erik, leave him be!" Now she was angry with him; he could be just as high-handed as Raoul, thinking he had the right to rule her life. "You have shed enough blood, ruined enough lives. He is no threat to me, and he has not deserved your hatred. But if you harm him… you will deserve mine!"

For a moment, his eyes closed behind the mask, and his shoulders slumped a little. Her words must have struck him harder than she had expected. But he rallied immediately, and his gaze transfixed her.

"Then if not because of him, why did you seek sanctuary here? Surely not for fear of me? I would not have hounded you. Who drove you to this step, Christine?"

She paused for a moment. "No one drove me, Erik. It was my choice. I looked at my life, at what I could do with my life… and this seemed best. Please do not question me further. Please be content with the knowledge that you are always in my prayers."

"Prayers! Do you think your God cares about me, when he cursed me, before I was even born, with this?!" He raised a hand to his mask and started to remove it, then thought better of the gesture and resettled the mask over his face. "No. You mean well, I know. It is not fair to trouble you thus, to let your last glimpse of me be all of horror." He paused, head bowed, and sighed. "Very well. If this is truly your own wish, I yield to it. Goodbye, Christine. Be happy."

Without another word, she rose and left the room, quickly, before the tears could spill from her eyes.

O-O-O