Final preparations had been completed. All desired belongings had been carefully packed into the covered carriage, and only the largest pieces of furniture remained in the underground abode. Of course, the organ could not be taken as it was firmly sealed to the ground, but both decided that the purchase of a piano would be an action taken in the near future.
As they stepped into the boat for what they thought would be the final time, Erik looked back at the little house for a second. For so long it had been his home-the only place where he was able to stay concealed from the rest of the word. He had planned to live and die in solitude. When he saw Christine staring up at him expectantly, though, it was much easier to leave it.
Before they left, Christine had quickly written a note to Madame Giry, detailing the events of the last week and giving her the address of their new home. She hoped the elderly woman would remain discreet, as she was their only trusted contact at the moment. Without her, they would not know how extensive the search for Christine became. At the end of the letter, Christine wrote that "O.G." gave her his gratitude for her service over the years.
The couple left within the darkness of the night, carefully avoiding the main roads of the city. Erik kept an eye out for unwanted visitors, but no one paid the carriage any attention whatsoever. It was as if they did not even exist.
Christine wrapped her wool shawl tightly around her shoulders for warmth as they moved forward. Though spring had finally come, the night air was still cold and somewhat damp. A light breeze blew her curls out around her face, tickling her cheek and making her shiver. She also felt an eerie chill spread through her bones. Erik sensed her discomfort and placed an arm around her shoulders. Christine leaned against him.
Looking at her surroundings, Christine realized how little she had been outside over the past few months, from the hospital to the manor to Erik's lair. No wonder she felt nervous, for she had likely developed a slight agoraphobia. Soon, though, the cast would come off, and she would be able to rejoin life again...hopefully peacefully and without the fear of before. Indeed it was difficult to believe that only several months ago, she had been desperately trying to escape the man she now leaned against for comfort.
The drive had been going very smoothly. Few other carriages or people were out that night. It was dark enough to provide a shadow of concealment, yet there was enough light from the scattered buildings so that the journey was not hazardous.
It was about an hour into the ride, though, when they came upon several moving figures scattered around an alleyway. The mumble of voices could be heard, but it was impossible to make out what they were discussing. They seemed to be milling about an object on the ground, holding up lanterns as if trying to examine something. Erik raised his head to discern what was going on, and Christine gazed up nervously. "Perhaps we should turn around," she said quietly.
"There is no other route unless we leave the city all together. I doubt that the commotion concerns us anyhow." He continued forward, checking to make sure the lasso was nearby in case there was indeed trouble. As they came closer, they could see that most of the men were dressed in police garb. All were armed with rifles, but none seemed to think it was necessary to have them ready to fire. Though the officers appeared slightly alarmed by something, danger did not appear to be imminent.
Some of the men stepped away from whatever was on the ground, and Christine tried to make out the large object in the dim lantern light. Another carriage had approached from the opposite direction, this one marked with what appeared to be the symbol for the hospital. The occupants got out and made their way to where the police were gathered. "Someone has been hurt," she said softly.
"If that is all that has occurred, it will pose us no problem."
Now she was close enough to tell that the object on the ground was the silhouette of a man. Gripping tightly onto the side of the wagon, she squinted down, her heart suddenly racing. Even from a distance, she could make out a large bruise on the man's head and see his blonde hair spread out on the ground. Christine was standing on one foot now within the carriage, trying to steady herself as she looked. "What are you doing?" asked Erik with irritation, attempting to bring her back to a seated position. "Sit down!"
But Christine could clearly make out the face now...the narrow jaw line and smooth features. Though the man's eyes were closed, she now knew that they would be blue if he opened them. "Oh God," she hoarsely whispered. "It is Raoul." Erik tensed next to her. "Erik...he...he is badly injured."
"Christine, sit down," he said through gritted teeth. "We do not want him to see us."
"But he looks-this is partially my fault. Erik, I cannot leave him wondering about me in that condition. Oh, what if he dies because of me?"
"No, Christine!" Erik exclaimed harshly. "If he sees you, it will destroy everything. For all he knows, we are out of the country." He hurried the horses forward at a faster pace, his yellow eyes flashing in rage.
"Erik, stop it!" she yelled slightly louder than she meant to, drawing the attention of the gathered crowd. Erik stared at her in enraged shock. Christine placed a hand over her mouth and paled as a policeman approached them.
"Can I help you?" asked the officer sternly. "This is really not a good place for you to stop. Unless you have business here, please move on ahead." Erik did not say anything; he did not move. He only faced forward. Christine gazed at the policeman, then she looked toward Erik's stoic face, and then she turned back to the unconscious figure of her former fiancé.
Of course she loved Erik with all of her heart and soul. Frankly, she wanted nothing more than to disappear with him into the night without guilt or hesitation. But her childhood friend, who had protected her so vigorously these last few months, now lay bleeding upon the ground. Raoul no doubt believed something terrible had happened to her. And if he survived whatever had occurred, he would always continue to search for her.
She could not run away, not again. Raoul deserved an explanation, if not the entire truth then at least a part of it, especially now that he had almost likely died for her. Christine prayed that Erik would understand as she turned back to the policeman. "I know the man who is injured."
The policeman nodded. "Well, many people know of him. He is the Vicomte de Chagny. Do you have closer relations?"
"Yes," she softly replied. "He is a close friend of mine."
"Well, then, Mademoiselle. You may visit him at the nearest hospital, about two miles east of here."
"All right," she replied softly. "I shall come back tomorrow."
"No!" said Erik coldly, as the policeman started to turn away. The officer looked up in surprise to see the mysterious cloaked man speak. "That man is her fiancé. You should take her to him immediately."
"What are you doing?" Christine whispered frantically, whipping around to face him. His golden eyes glared down at her, and his mouth was fixed in an expression of pain and fury.
"Do you think I am going to sit in our home as you leave each day to visit him? Do you think I am going to patiently wait for you to return each night until one day you decide not to? Or he decides to lead the police to us? Do you think that I am that stupid, Christine? Either you leave with me now and the boy is forgotten, or you go to him, and I shall return to the only place that is truly mine alone."
"That is not fair!" she exclaimed. "I have to tell him, Erik! Look at him! He is nearly dead! It is not fair to leave him like this, and perhaps he will not bother us anymore once he knows." The policeman approached again.
"Mademoiselle? Are you the young man's fiancée?" She placed her head into her hands, nearly ready to cry.
"Erik," she whispered. "Let's go."
He did not move, though. "Do you promise that you will not try to see him, Christine? That you will not spend countless hours thinking about him?"
"I...I..."
"Mademoiselle?" She stared at the two men in front of her as she tried to make her decision. Either she go with Erik's full love and protection, always with the guilt of her actions and the worry that Raoul would find them. Or she could find the closure that was needed and pray to God that Erik would someday understand. Why did Erik have to be so horrible about it?
Because she had been so fickle in the past...had twisted his heart far too many times. She bit her lip, tasting blood.
"I...am the Vicomte's very close friend," she said softly. "I must speak with him." The look that passed over Erik's eyes at that moment was almost too much for her to bear. And as the policeman helped her over to the mass of people and carriages, tears streamed rapidly down her soft cheeks. Quickly she turned around to give Erik some sign of assurance that she would soon find him, but he was already gone. "What have I done?" she wondered in horror.
Mindlessly, she sat down next to Raoul, who had now been lifted into the wagon. He was still unconscious, but it was too dark to tell how much damage had been done. She sobbed into her hands as they moved forward. A hand came upon her shoulder.
"Do not worry, Mademoiselle," said one of the nurses. "He will hopefully be fine."
"I am not so sure that he will," she replied through tears.
By some odd coincidence, the hospital that the carriage arrived at was the same one that she had gone to on that fateful day. Doctor Murrell was not there at such a late hour, but several nurses remained stationed around. She greeted them, and they wholeheartedly expressed their regrets.
Christine was allowed to stay in one for the night, mostly because of the fact that she was due to have her bandage removed soon anyway. The nurses would then help her to regain use of her slightly atrophied foot. If her heart had not been breaking that night, she would have found the situation to be blissfully convenient. All she wanted to do was cry, though.
She knew that it was time to grow up and begin making amends. A nurse helped her down the corridor to where her childhood friend lay. Her heart pounded, afraid of what she would find now that there was light. With a deep intake of breath, she slowly opened the door of the room and looked inside. The sight made her raise her hand to her mouth, and she let out a slight gasp.
A white bandage covered his blonde head and one arm was set in a cast. Purple and blue bruises marred his face here and there, and more were likely covered under his clothes and the hospital blankets. Though the nurses had cleaned up some of the blood, traces of it still dotted his skin. A grimace of pain seemed to stay fixed upon his lips.
It was then that Christine realized that no matter what decisions she made, someone would always end up hurt. All she could do, though, was hobble over to a chair next to the bed and place her head into her hands.
"Christine?" she heard a faint, groggy voice ask. She looked up. "Oh God. You are safe. Oh God. I thought—"
"Shhhh..." she said softly. "Yes. I am fine, Raoul. But you...what has happened to you?"
He managed to shake his head slightly. "I have made many mistakes these last few days. But it does not matter." He paused. "I thought he had taken you. Where did you go?" He reached for her, and she calmly took his hand in a comforting gesture.
"It is quite complicated." How could she tell him everything now? He was barely alive. He wouldn't even understand her.
"Complicated? Yes, I guess everything has been complicated, hasn't it? It does not matter, though. We shall leave this wretched city for good. We shall go to England."
"Oh, Raoul," she said softly. "I...go to sleep now."
"Tomorrow, then?" he asked, beginning to fade out of consciousness again.
"Tomorrow."
