Most excellent and phantom-like kudos to my reviewers!

Midianek: Yeah, the Phantom is OOC, but I think that children bring out the best in everyone. He's just letting his best side show.

L.G./Christine Daae: I know. Cuteness is what I was aiming for! As long as you keep reviewing, I'll keep writing!

Wiseupjanetweiss: I'm continuing. How's Rocky?

Ladyflutter: Unless they grow up in a house with women, most men don't. Here's more to read!

Kathy L.: Thanks for reading. I'm updating.

Relyan: Yep, that's one of my favorite movies. I took inspiration for Lise from Claudia and from a few other sources.

Ephona: I'm glad you think it's adorable.

Shadowsylvia: Hey, it's your birthday present, Sis. Enjoy. It only took you several years of suggesting it to get me to write it.

Psycogirl234: I'm updating.

Chapter 4

After being woken up in the night by nightmares where I had lost Lise in the Opera cellars and she had fallen victim to one of my forgotten booby traps, I decided that I would probably have to move. A cellar was no place for a child, so I would have to find a place that was. I fell asleep thinking about the problem.

I was woken up the next morning by hearing noise from the next bedroom. A glance at the clock showed me that it was just after six. Was Lise awake this early? Mind you, I'm usually up at a decent hour, but six was positively unholy, even for a ghost.

I hauled myself out of bed, staggered to my bathroom to get my robe and slippers, and wove my way to Lise's door. When I opened it, I saw her careening around the room ecstatically, examining everything, and exclaiming over every new decoration that I had arranged. She flew from the bookshelves to the vase of fresh flowers that I had slipped out after last night, to the desk where I had arranged her school things, and to the woven basket where I had placed her toys. Small changes, yes, but they were changes that hadtransformed a grown woman's room into that of a little girl. Lise spotted me and careenedtowards me, launching herself when she was a few feet from me, happily certain that I would catch her.

I did, of course. My heart stopped at the thought of her falling, but I managed to catch her and hold onto her. Once she was settled in my arms, she gave me a big hug and a kiss.

"Papa, it's so pretty!" she cried, hugging me again. "It looks just like the room I saw in a picture once!"

"Does it really?" I asked, giving her one last hug while I fought a yawn. "Why are you awake so early, ma chere? Couldn't you sleep?"

"I'm not sleepy," she said, smiling up at me. "Could we play?"

Play? When had I played? As a child, I was either busy thinking or surviving, I hadn't had time to play, but it should have occurred to me that Lise had no other playmates than me. Of course she would expect me to play with her!

"How about dressing and breakfast first?" I suggested. "Then we'll play a little, and maybe start your lessons."

"Lessons?" she said, perplexed. "What lessons?"

"Well, I'll be teaching you to read and write, and I'll teach you all sorts of other things so that one day you can be a clever woman," I explained, setting her down on an ottoman. "Learning to read and write isn't hard, ma chere."

She looked as if she were thinking about this. I helped her to wash and dress, and then I went to dress myself. If she were up, then I had best be up as well. After that, I made omelets and croissants for our breakfast.

Once she had fuel, Lise had even more energy. I couldn't believe it: As energetic as she had been before breakfast, she was even more energetic now. We played a game called "Warmer, Colder," and it was a game where one of us hid something, and the hider would guide the seeker by saying "warmer" or "colder" depending on how close to the object the seeker was. Lise was very creative: She used not only "warmer" and "colder," but also "icy," "boiling," "snowy," "frozen," and "red hot." After that, it was a game of "climb on Papa," and Lise assured me that it was a real game. (I had some doubts about this.) Papa had suddenly become a mountain, and his shoulders were the summit. Lise was a fearless mountain climber, and more than once I had to catch her to keep her from falling off of me. Once the summit was gained, Lise pulled out the tangrams, and the creatures she made from them could not be found in any zoology book, I was certain. I had thought I was clever for reproducing Notre Dame, but when Lise made an elehorsoduck, I had to admit myself beaten.

That afternoon, we went out. Fortunately, our destination was not far from the Opera, so we reached it with little exposure. My solicitor was surprised to see me in daylight, and he was even more surprised to see me accompanied by Lise, but I lay the matter out. I needed him to look for a house in Paris or its vicinity, and it needed very specific parameters. It needed a large garden or park with a high wall, spacious rooms and halls, and it needed to have space enough for myself, Lise, a parlor, music room, library, dining room, a well-appointed kitchen, a good storage cellar, and possibly a soundly-built shed on the premises or the space to build one. He agreed to begin to search immediately, and Lise and I returned to my home under the Opera.

During the next week, Lise and I played, talked, and began her lessons. Once she had her letters and numbers, she began to devour the books I had bought for her. She began to try cooking supper for the both of us using the recipes in her cookery book, and the end results were quite nice. I had never eaten croque monsieur with seasoned French beans before, but I had rarely enjoyed a meal more.

I checked with the solicitor at the end of the week and was surprised when he told me that he had already found a place and that it was ready for myapproval when I wished. Hiring a carriage for the day and paying the idiot driver to keep silent about my appearance, we went out to see the house. It was in one of theouter suburbs of Paris, and it was expensive.

Once I spotted it, I knew it was ideal. There was a high wall surrounding an expansive park ofone and a halfacres, a stable and a storage shed not too far from the house, and the house itself! Large windows let in plenty of sunlight into large rooms, and there were a ballroom, a library, dining room, four bedrooms, a parlor, music room, a conservatory, and a game room. There was a kitchen with a complete scullery and dairy, and water was pumped right into the house. Some enterprising soul had put in modern gas lamps, but the decorating left a little to be desired. Yes, Lise and I could be happy here. Now all we had left to do was move.

Space

Moving is enough of a project for an ordinary person, but for me, it was twice the work due to all of the secrecy that I had to function in. While I was busy packing and making arrangements to move, I became aware that there was a great deal of buzzing in the Opera. I still took a daily jaunt through my haunt (Oh, how poetic. Perhaps I should try writing poetry?) just to keep abreast of the situations and climate up in the grand theater. Lise,bless her, usually curled up with a bookand promised to be good while I was out. The managers were a constant source of amusement, and one afternoon I stopped outside their office, listening at my own private entrance that was concealed behind a bucolic painting. I wasn't prepared for what I heard.

"But do you think it's the Phantom, Andre?" Firmin demanded. "I mean, we haven't had a note since Christine Daae left us, and ten to one, whoever he was, he's most likely dead."

"They were hanging by their necks, the both of them!" Andre answered, sounding very shaken. "He and the ballet girl!"

Who and what ballet girl? I wondered.

"They're both dead, that's for certain," Firmin muttered. "Ghastly thing. What have the police said?"

"That it was the work of a deranged madman, most likely. You know who that sounds like," Andre said. I could hear him fiddling with some papers.

"I do. What else did they say? Were they mentioning a motive?"

"Since when does a madman need a motive?" Andre snarled. "One inspector said that seeing them together most likely sparked a jealous rage, and he...dispatched them both."

I could read between the lines. For some reason, a ballet girl and her lover had been found dead, and I was being blamed for their deaths. I began to shake. Deaths meant police, police meant searching, searching meant their trying to find my home in the cellars. Before Lise, it wouldn't have mattered if they had found me, but now, I had everything to lose. I had no idea that I could care for the child that much, but I knew that she and I would have to be gone before they found the house by the lake.

I hurried home, calling for Lise, and she came running to greet me. "Hello, Papa! I finished another story!"

"Well, that's lovely, dear," I said, a little out of breath from running. "Listen, would you like to go to the new house?"

"But aren't we?" she asked, not understanding.

"Well, yes, but I meant sooner. After all, didn't you like it?" I knew that she had, for she had been ecstatic about the large park, the open rooms, and in the ballroom, she had danced about, laughing. I knew she couldn't wait to go.

"Yes, but why sooner?"

I hadn't expected her to ask me questions.

"Well, I had thought we'd be able to stay longer here, my love, but we can't. We have to go tonight."

"All the way in the dark?" she asked, for it was now evening.

"Yes, all the way. I will be with you, and it will be one great big adventure, but it will have to be tonight."

She clapped her hands in delight, and I knew that I wouldn't have any trouble with her after that. Immediately she decided that we were explorers traversing through darkest Africa with lions and cannibals on our trail (I stared at her, because I had never told her of such things. That begged the question: What had this child been reading? It was possible that in my bookshelves would be mention of Africa, but at the moment, I didn't want to search, I wanted only to go). I laughed, as much to go along with the game as to convince her that everything was all right. I helped her pack her dresses into a wicker press, stowed her toys, books, and other things into a knapsack, and we were off.

We crossed the lake, and I led her out the Rue Scribe entrance and into the cool night air. Once we were out on the main street, I hailed a cab and gave him the directions to the new house. He looked surprised at going so far out of the city, but I gave him an extra ten francs and he ceased to look suspicious. We rode through the night, and every now and then, Lise would part the curtains that covered the carriage door window and look out before giving a little shiver.

"What's the matter, Lise?" I asked, wondering what the child was up to.

"I was just thinking of the lions. They could be surrounding the carriage, Papa, and we wouldn't have a chance. I used to see lions on all sorts of buildings in the city, and they always made me frightened."

She was managing to frighten herself by using her imagination. I decided that it would be better to stop this while I still had a chance. "I don't think they would be bad lions, Lise," I said, taking her in my arms. "I think that they're good lions."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I think that instead of frightening a little girl like you, they would like to protect you," I said. "Did you ever seem to see a lion that looked protective instead of threatening?"

She thought about this. "Perhaps there were a few..."

"You see?" I said, smiling. "I think that a great many of those lions would save you from anything bad."

"What about you, Papa?" she asked, looking up at me. "Wouldn't you save me too?"

It was suddenly hard to speak. "Of course I would, Lise," I promised, choking the slightest bit. I had never felt such love for another human being in my life. My feelings for Christine became insignificant after that moment. I had found my greatest love.

"I love you, too, Papa," Lise said, suddenly hugging me. She rested her head on my shoulder for a few minutes while I reflected on how truly blessed I was. I was remembering how I had found her when her clear little voice broke the silence. "Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"What about the cannibals?"

Space

We reached the house sometime around midnight, and I paid the driver another twenty francs and together we went inside. Lise had fallen asleep, so I wrapped her in my cloak and settled her in a corner. I had hired a maid-of-all-work to clean the floors, walls, and ceilings for us, and she had done a superb job. There wasn't any dust or dirt, and the only things the rooms were lacking was furniture. Deciding that I would worry about that in the morning, I sat down next to Lise and dozed. I fell asleep sometime around dawn, and was woken up by a shriek, a loud bang, and a splash.

I was on my feet in a moment and clapped my hand over the mouth of the girl who stared at me with wide eyes. I considered the situation as best I could and decided to be charming. Her clothes suggested that she was the maid, and the upset bucket of soapy water and the mop she had clenched in her hand told me that she had come back this morning to clean some more. It wouldn't do to frighten her away and have her tell everyone she knew that her new master worea mask.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle," I said, letting go of her. "You frightened me very much. You are the young lady who has been taking care of my new home, I presume?"

"Your...new home?" she parrotted. "Oh, then you're Monsieur Devereaux? Oh, I beg your pardon, monsieur. When I first saw you and the little one, I thought you were a tramp, but I can see that you're not now. Pierre and I didn't expect you until next week."

"Pierre?"

"The gardener, sir, that your solicitor hired."

"Oh," I said, going over to Lise and picking her up. "Well, our last home had become uninhabitable, so we were forced to come here. Worst luck in the world, I imagine, but I wasn't able to salvage much. Mostly Lise's things, really. Not even our furniture can be brought, so I'll have to have some more brought here. According to a gasman, a steam pipe broke and soaked everything. Will it be an imposition for you or Pierre if I have it brought directly to the house?"

She looked suprised that I would even think of such a thing. "Oh, no, monsieur. Not at all. These rooms are too bare, and I'd like for them to be less echoey, if you know what I mean. Makes me think a ghost lives here."

I fought down a smile. "Well, all right then, I'll have the orders sent out this morning. May I know your name?"

"I'm Cecile," the girl said, curtseying. "If you like, sir, I could run down to the cookshop for some breakfast for you and the young lady. There isn't a thing in the house."

I nodded. "Just one thing, Cecile, before you go. Lise and I have come here for some privacy, and I'm sure you understand why. Please don't tell anyone that I wear a mask."

Cecile nodded. "I won't tell a soul, sir. With God as my witness, I won't."

Taking her at her word, I took out an envelope and some paper, dashed off a word to my solicitor asking him to stop by, and gave her a few francs to get us some essentials. She set off, and I was left, holding Lise and thinking about what to do next.