Over the next few days Gustave arranged for Madame Giry to watch over Christine while he had the official orchestra rehearsals, so as to not make the conductor angry. Christine was very excited to take ballet lessons, but she was not so excited about the fact that the classes involved more little girls. Timid Christine felt threatened by the presence of other children. Madame Giry assured Gustave that it was a natural reaction, and that his daughter would fit in perfectly with the rest of the girls. More than believe Madame Giry, Gustave just had no other choice. He couldn't take Christine along to rehearsals.

At night Gustave tried to get Christine to talk about her classes and what she had learned, but his daughter only wanted to hear him play the violin or have him tell her a story. It seemed that it would take a long time for Christine to adjust to their new life. All the commotion of the Opera house, with the dancers and musicians living all under one roof, was overwhelming for the child. Gustave hoped that this feeling would pass. He wanted to be certain that he had made the right choice in taking the job and bringing Christine to live into a place of eternal night.

Unfortunately, five days from the time Gustave joined the orchestra, the conductor decided one evening that extra rehearsals were in need for the perfection of a new score he had received. This meant Gustave was to stay until after 9:00 in the music room. Night, which meant complete darkness inside the Opera house, fell around 8:00 and Madame Giry returned Christine to their room at 8:15. His daughter would have to be alone for an hour.

Gustave tried to find a way to avoid abandoning his daughter to the night, but there was none. He couldn't impose even more on Madame Giry, and the conductor was not very kin of Gustave, which meant he would never allow Christine to be with him during rehearsals. With a heavy heart Gustave had to tell Christine the bad news.

"It's only for a little while my child and I have brought you many more candles to light the room for you."

"No father, the candles won't help keep the monsters away."

"I thought we had settled this, there are no monsters. This is something I have to do Christine, it's for our good and you must be a good girl and understand." Gustave said smiling to the girl. Christine looked at him with a sad look on her face. "You are five years old now and that is plenty old to be on your own for an hour. Come on and give me a kiss so I can go back to work."

The girl kissed her father and he left. She then ran into her bed and covered her whole self with her blanket and began to cry.

Every night, for the first three nights of late rehearsal, Gustave came back to a bawling Christine. Again she talked about monsters and ghosts, and complained that the darkness was the cause. To calm her Gustave played her a song every night. Knowing that she was once again in her father's company, Christine fell asleep almost instantly every night.

Witnessing his child's angst left Gustave feeling miserable. He wanted to be with her every minute but he also had to work. Worrying about Christine's state of mind during the time they were apart was affecting him deeply. Even his music was suffering; he couldn't concentrate on the new score and was making dumb mistakes that he would have laughed off in his prime years. Because of this Gustave began the nightly ritual of practicing on his own after Christine, and everyone else, had gone to sleep. He would make sure his daughter was sound asleep, and then he would sneak off to the music room.

Three weeks after his arrival at the Opera house, Gustave experienced the first of many strange encounters with the boy. It was very late at night; as usual the violinist was walking to the music room when he heard a sound coming from the direction of the chapel. Everyone was in bed by then, no one was allowed to roam the halls after 10:00, but Gustave was a stubborn man. The initial noise was followed by another one. At first he thought it was a rat, but his instinct told him it was something else.

Attracted by the contemplation of finding someone as hard headed as himself, Gustave set for the direction of the chapel. Not wanting to startle his fellow insomniac, he walked in complete silence. At first Gustave wasn't sure if what he was seen was real. A young man, perhaps no older than 20, was picking up the candles he had accidentally dropped on the floor. The boy's action was not what mystified Gustave. It was his garments, and particularly, the mask. The young man was wearing a mask that covered his whole face.

Gustave was too engulfed in his own thoughts and spoke without intent.

"Who are you?

The boy turned to look at him and then in one fast motion disappeared into the dark.

"Wait! I didn't mean to frighten you, come back." Gustave called into nothingness.

For a few moments Gustave was left with an overwhelming curiosity and a sense of guilt for having scared the boy so much that he had to run away. He wondered if he was one of the young dancers that Madame Giry trained, or perhaps the son of one of the opera actors. In all fairness, he can even be an actor, he told himself. Gustave's mind labored around the need to explain the young man's origins and his sudden escape. He attributed his flee to fear of being discovered roaming the halls after bedtime. It was obvious that the boy knew of this rule because he was alarmed when he saw Gustave. The boy possibly thought that Gustave was there to scold him for not being in his room.

In his internal quest for a logic explanation Gustave was hiding his true intrigue; who was that boy, and why was he wearing a mask?