Chapter 3

Raoul paced uneasily in his bedroom. Three days. The madman had given him three days of waiting…he had probably left for England, or Sweden, or…somewhere by now!

The young man scowled. He was not a patient person, especially in matters involving Christine.

"She must have been kidnapped," he thought. "There's no way she would just get up and leave…and even if she did, she would go to find ihim/i."

"However," the rationalization continued, "since she didn't go off to find Erik, she must still love me…but if she loved me, wouldn't she have told me she was leaving? Wouldn't she have trusted me?"

That concept having tired his higher thinking processes, Raoul sighed and went to bed.

Erik hammered on his organ in frustration. It just didn't make any sense! True, Christine was about as sharp as a tomato, but this disappearance of hers was completely unexplainable, as were the Persian's rushed lies. He sighed. It was the girl's voice and innocence he had fallen in love with, but now that he thought about it, her innocence bordered on naiveté, which occasionally bordered on foolishness. And hadn't she lied to that idiot boy as well as to him?

He shook his head. There was no sense in worrying over such things. He had to prepared himself for the coming day's questioning of the daroga.

Still, the thought lingered in the back of his mind.

"I assure, I have no idea where she is. I'm sure she's fine, though. Mlle. Daaè does not intentionally seek danger."

"Yes, but she always seems to find it," Erik muttered.

The daroga smiled. "You sound…bitter."

"Aren't I always?"

"You know," the man said thoughtfully, "the three of you—yourself, Monsieur le Vicomte, and Christine Daaè—all have a similar problem."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"M. de Changy sees a perfect vision of his childhood friend; Christine saw both an earthly protector and her promised angel, and you…you, my friend, saw your salvation."

"And your point?"

"You all fell in love with ideals, Erik. None of you ever stepped back to see the person. Perhaps…Mlle. Daaè realized this and…fled."

"Yes…she is quite good at fleeing, isn't she?" Erik mused.