Education of the Heart

Confrontation: de Chagny

Erik waited to be arrested before the female doctor would return to the neigborhood. But nothing happened. The doctor came in his shop and told him to refund the costs for the cab she had paid. Erik reached for the cash desk and handed her the money without thinking.

"I guess you are going to send me a bill for his treatment too?" he asked as he noticed there was not much cash left.

"Maybe," she answered and took a seat, "But first you could offer me some tea."

"Of course. Where are my manners?" The situation was more than absurd. He was preparing tea for the female doctor who had just saved his latest victim and obviously not called the police.

Dede, Rene and Jules had calmed down enough to accompany Erik to see the doctor. They greeted her like a child greeting his grandmother, obviously they already loved her. Erik wondered how easy it was for them to love someone.

"Tell me," the doctor asked seriously, "What happened? Why did you try to kill this nice young man?"

"He's the one who's going to marry the woman I love," Erik answered, "When he... mocked me, I lost control." He would not admit that he still could not remember what he had done.

The doctor noticed the bruises on his friends faces. "Looks like they somehow got involved in that fight," the doctor observed, "I better see to them."

Erik said nothing. He was ashamed and confused. The old doctor examined the three men, cleaned their wounds and opened her large hand-bag which always contained a large box of cookies should she meet children. She loved children and all all children loved her - especially because she always had some sweets for them. In that the mongoloid men were no different from children.

"No punish," Dede asked the doctor, "No punish Erik. Erik sorry. Erik sorry."

The doctor glared at Erik who leaned against the counter, his head down, crying in shame. He had hurt them and they were begging for mercy for him. "I did not want this," he whispered, "I am so sorry."

"Do not worry," the doctor gently told Dede, "I won't tell anyone. There you go - you are such a brave young man. I know this hurts."

"Madame, thank you. For everything," Erik said in a low voice, not sure if this was to be the last time he saw the old woman.


Despite Erik's fear of being arrested any moment now he did not even try to run. He was too deeply troubled by the incident to consider fleeing from the authorities. He was prepared to be arrested and taken to prison, he already had rehearsed a little speech he would give in his confession - mainly stating that he had asked to be confined in a hospital but no one had thought this really necessary. It was the best chance he had now only to be confined in a hospital and to avoid a trial and a verdict.

When nothing happened the next three days - except Madame Buquet being horribly jumpy around Erik and avoiding him despite his efforts to be as polite and gentle as possible - Erik draw the conclusion that the police simply had not been informed of his misdeed by that time. There had been one complaint - and this had been laughed off because it must have come from someone who had falsely accused Erik before. And the Vicomte had not spoken with the police or the magistrate.

Erik decided that he could not just sit there and do nothing. It drove him mad to wait for being arrested. Should he go to the doctor and tell him about his fear that he really was going mad now because he could not remember what he had done? Or would that only make everything worse? He could get away if the Vicomte would not press charges against him.

There was but one way to know for sure - he had to go there and beg his rival's forgiveness. That - or live with the constant fear that the police might arrest him any moment now.

This time he was determined to do everything right and play by the rules. At least he would prove to himself that he could act like a normal man, even if it would not help his cause much if he would have to stand trial. He would do this like a man and not like a savage or a criminally insane.

Madame Buquet jumped as Erik entered the shop.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to startle you," Erik said. When she did not reply anything he went on: "Since Gontier appointed you my boss and did not revoke his decision yet - may I have a day off?"

"You... are asking?" Madame Buquet did not trust her ears. She had never expected Erik to actually obey orders.

"Please."

"Business is bad and you plundered the cash desk. You know how much you owe Gontier now?" she replied.

Erik nodded. "Too much. But the shop is not a loss, isn't it?"

"The correct answer for the tax authorities or the real numbers?"

Erik barked a bitter laugh. "The real numbers, of course."

"Why do you need a day off?"

Could this get worse? Why was this woman sticking her nose in his affairs? Wasn't it humiliating enough to have to ask her for a day off? "The Vicomte de Chagny... I have to talk to him."

"You nearly killed him."

"I am well aware of this. So, can I have a day off, please?"


It was not easy to walk the streets at daytime. In his neighborhood Erik was more or less seen like a vicious dog who should not be allowed to roam the streets freely but would not be put down for he was the pet of some powerful figure. But in other parts of the city his mask drew more attraction and he had to face being stared at and mocked again and again.

Since he tried to make himself look less intimidating, he wore a brown suit and brown hat along with a beige mask and a fitting beige shirt. His cravat was another kind of brown than the suit, but fitting. Being less scary came with a cost - he had to endure not only stares and mockery, some people felt compelled to push him away if he did not get out of their way in time. Usually the lower one in hierarchy had to clear the path for the higher ranking one and he felt belittled having to be the one to get out of everyone's way, even leaving the sidewalk and stepping into the street sometimes.

The more elegant the quarters were, the less shoves and open mockery but the more stares.

When he stood before the large iron fence that protected the house of the de Chagnys he fought hard to suppress the urge to run. Behind the iron fence was a green hedge, behind that obviously a beautiful garden and in that garden a large house that could easily be called a palace. Baroque architecture, he noticed. Of course. What else was to be expected of this family?


Erik shuddered, feeling cold despite the sunshine. He rang the bell and waited. A servant opened and told him to go away. What else could he expect than to be turned down at first sight?

"I have to speak to the Vicomte," Erik answered.

"You can give me the message," the servant answered, still not opening the door.

"No, I cannot. It is just between him and me," Erik retorted. He would not discuss this with a servant, it was bad enough as it was now.

"If you give me your calling card I will inform him," the servant told him condescendingly.

He had no calling card, never needed one before. "Tell him that Erik Morriere is here."

"Who?"

"Morriere"

"You are not on the list of suppliers," the servant tried to send him away again.

"I have to discuss a private matter with him. Open the door now and let me in!"

"I will ask him if he cares to see you," the servant's tone was even more condescendingly than before and Erik was absolutely sure that this man would not bother the Vicomte and tell him about the visitor.

Erik decided to open the delivery entrance door at the backside of the house with a picklock as soon as the servant was out of sight. He would not be turned down, not in this way!


Sneaking in was one thing - but at daytime in a large household with many servants he was spotted soon and of course confronted who he was and how he had been able to enter the house. Since he already was in the house he would not leave. The servants tried to persuade him, but did not dare to touch him and force him to leave - they were servants, not bodyguards, and certainly would not risk a fistfight with a man who was obviously crazy - who would wear a mask and break into a house at daytime when everyone would be awake and working?

"I told you I have to speak to the Vicomte! He wanted to see me a few days ago - he wants to see me!" Erik insisted, trying to control his temper. He had not guessed it would be so difficult just to get to talk to someone.

"What is this about?" a commanding voice interrupted the discussion Erik was having with five male servants, some female servants standing there gawking.

"Sir, this man just broke into the house. He claims that he had business to discuss with the Vicomte, but we already turned him down and told him to leave," one of the servants explained.

Erik nervously straightened his jacked as he looked up at the man who was slowly walking down the staircase. This man looked much like the Vicomte, only older. His father? No - this must be the Comte de Chagny, elder brother to Raoul de Chagny.

"Kindly tell me what you are doing here?" the Comte addressed Erik and took care to stay on the staircase so he could look down at the masked intruder.

"Making a fool of myself obviously," Erik answered. He knew he was behaving really stupid. "I have to talk to the Vicomte de Chagny. I can't be turned down."

"You talk with extraordinary rudeness and audacity. I shall call the police." The Comte did not show any emotion. Whatever he was thinking, he hid it perfectly behind the facade of aristocratic superiority.

"No! Please, Monsieur le Comte, I need to talk to your brother!" Erik could not hide his distress.

"He's not well."

Of course the Vicomte would not be well after a few days. "Sir, with all due respect - I have to see your brother," Erik replied, trying to make it sound really urgent.

The way the Comte studied him made him extremely uncomfortable. "You must be that mysterious rival of his," the Comte stated, "Your impudence is unrivaled. How dare you breaking into my house?"

Erik felt himself blush. This man behaving like a king made him feeling even more ashamed of himself, but that caused anger - anger that gave him the strength for an answer: "If you think I would be turned away like a beggar, you are mistaken, sir." He made sure to include icy politeness and not commit another lapse in his behavior. "And it was your brother who wanted to see me."

The Comte studied him shortly, then stepped aside a little, gesturing to a door. "We can talk in the smoking lounge."


Smoking lounge. Erik hated the wealth of this family. Their house was as large as a small theater - considering the vaudeville shows at Place Pigalle even much larger - and he was sure it had its own ballroom. A smoking lounge for a private home. What luxury.

The Comte took his seat in one of the upholstered armchairs. Erik coughed. The smell of cold cigar smoke in the curtains and the carpets and the upholstery was disgusting and made it hard to breathe. The Comte did not seem to notice the smell at all.

"You haven't been introduced to me," the aristocrat mentioned casually.

"My name is Erik Morriere," Erik answered. He did not like to give his name, but he had no choice.

"What I heard about you is not encouraging. I would have preferred that you stay away from my house." When Erik said nothing, just stood there looking down at the Comte, he gestured to a seat. Erik sat down, the stench of cold smoke was even worse now. He had to clear his throat but still felt like his trachea was constricting in an attempt to keep the smoke out of his lungs. "You tried to kill my brother."

"Actually no," Erik answered, surprised that this was the truth, "He provoked me and I hit him. I came here to apologize. And I want to know what he wanted to tell me. He came to me to discuss... something."

"This something might be called Mademoiselle Daae?" the Comte asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Save guess," Erik replied.

"You know that my brother is going to marry her?"

Erik nodded. "I know that. And I know that you did object, but reluctantly agreed to their union in the end."

"I see you are reading the gossip columns," the Comte dryly commended, "But if you think I will side with you against my brother you are mistaken."

"I never thought you would," Erik replied, taken aback.

"Then I guess you know that I agreed to their union and will welcome Mademoiselle to our family."

Erik shook his head. "I do not intend to cause any trouble for anyone. I just... want to apologize to your brother. Then I'll never return here unless invited."

"He won't press charges against you, you know," the Comte informed him, "I still wonder why Mademoiselle is begging him to help you, to spare you despite everything you did to them."

"She's... what?" Erik had thought she would be eager to forget him.

"You do not know?" Comte de Chagny was surprised.

"Know what?"

"Who donated the large sum that got the experiment at the medical University started?"

Erik paled. What did the Comte de Chagny know? "Was that... you?"

The aristocrat nodded. "Mademoiselle pleaded with my brother to help you and he came to me - well, it was I who made everything possible. I have to admit that my first idea was to support you so you could pursue Mademoiselle and lure her away from my brother. But when I saw how madly in love with her he was - he was willing to help you just to please her and he wants her to be happy so much he even wanted to talk you into teaching her again, offering payment for music lessons - I could no longer stand in his way. To be perfectly honest - I do envy him that he is able to love her so much and trust her like that. I would never trust any mistress of mine to be alone with my rival, but he does. They share something special, a unique love - they would give their lives for one another."

Erik coughed again, but this time to hide the choked sob that escaped his throat. He could not actually name the feelings he was going through right now but all of them were painful. He would not cry before this man, he had to control himself somehow. So he got up and opened the window, breathing in the fresh air. It was as good an excuse like any other to turn his back to the Comte.

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There is more than one de Chagny - hands up, whom did I fool with the title of this chapter? ;-P

Some of you may remember that in chapter 2 the doctor casually tells the magistrate about a generous donation to the University to fund the experiment. (I wonder how many of you are going to look it up now.)