It was a lovely, warm afternoon just between summer and autumn. Suzette and Mathieu were sprawled out on the floor, listening with great joy as Erik told them stories and gave them lessons. Mathieu was the only friend that ever came to visit Suzette's house. Those who had not being dispirited away personally by the phantom had heard the stories of those unfortunate wretches who had and kept clear away from the place, lest they be cursed as well. In fact, even the bravest boys in the village would only run up to touch the front steps on a dare and then dart back into the woods across the road. Erik quite enjoyed frightening the daylights out of simple children and in spite of Suzette's wails of consternation; he could find no fault with it.
"It's only harmless little jokes and illusions," he would explain with satisfaction, "It's rather amusing to me and it gives the little dears something exciting to talk about." Suzette would then stomp her feet and pout at him, but he would only rumple her hair and say, "My goodness! You must learn to have a bit of fun!" The reader can probably understand why Suzette rarely attempted to bring friends into the house anymore.
Then, in early summer, when all the farmers' children were called to help with the harvest, it became apparent to Mathieu's Aunt Anne that though the boy was always eager to help, he wasn't ever going to be good for much work. But not seeing any benefit that the boy could get from school, and not having the money to pay for it anyway, Aunt Anne sent the small boy out alone everyday to "pick berries" and "amuse himself until dinner". During these long summer days, Mathieu followed Suzette around adoringly. Suzette enjoyed his company immensely and wracked her little head, trying to come up with new games and adventures for them. Mathieu asked her nearly every day to go and see the ghost house, but Suzette was so afraid of losing her only friend, she always came up with an excuse not to.
Then one afternoon, Erik looked up from his tomes to find Suzette before him with her diminutive fists on her waist and a very solemn expression on her face.
"Yes, my dear? Whatever is it?"
"Erik," she said gravely, "My friend, Mathieu, is waiting outside."
"Splendid! Just let me have a moment to get ready and find the matches…"
"No!" she exclaimed coldly. Erik stared at her. She looked on the verge of tears.
"Mathieu is my only friend and if you can't come down and be pleasant then you can just leave us both alone!" She stood glaring at him. Erik was speechless.
"Do you understand?" she demanded.
"I do," he said softly and Suzette spun around and headed toward the door. Then he spoke again.
"N-no, Suzette," he whispered, "I don't understand. I thought I was your friend." Suzette turned around slowly.
"It's not the same, Erik. I need to have other friends, too." He nodded.
"As you wish, Suzette. I shall leave you both alone."
"Thank you," she said quietly. She really hated to hurt him, but it simply had to be so.
Over the next few days, Suzette and Mathieu went rampaging through the house, playing many games and having great fun. Mathieu had never seen anything like the haunted house before and he went about, exploring every corner with his hands. Erik was true to his promise and kept a distance, watching them jealously. In the evenings, he was cross and quiet. Suzette knew that he was hurting and there was hardness in the pit of her stomach.
One afternoon, the two playmates were having a game of hide-and-seek. The house was perfect for this sort of thing, as there were so many perfect places to hide. Unfortunately, Mathieu was at a tremendous disadvantage, as he couldn't see Suzette as well, and Suzette already knew all the best hiding places. It was his turn to hide and he wandered up to the second floor, trying different doors and scheming to come up with the best hiding place possible. It was under these circumstances that he happened on Erik, in a foul mood, writing in the music room. They stared at each other for a moment and then Erik bowed and said, "It is an honor, Mathieu."
"Are you Erik?" he chirped softly.
"I am." Mathieu stared in his direction with his large, hazy blue eyes. Erik saw for the first time how small he was and that he was nearly blind.
"I love your house," he whispered, "It's the most wonderful place I've ever seen!"
"Thank you."
"I've always wanted to meet a ghost," he whispered gleefully, "I like ghosts!" Erik was somewhat surprised at this frail-looking child's apparent lack of terror. Even Suzette had trembled when they had first met.
"Why are you whispering?" Erik asked him.
"Because, I'm trying to find a place to hide from Suzette," he replied cheerfully, "And she's found me every time!" Erik thought for a moment, then said, "I know just where to hide you."
Meanwhile, Suzette was on her way up the stairs. She knew Mathieu had gone that way because she had heard him stumble on the way up. She searched her bedroom and sitting room. Then she went through the library, checking in all her best hiding places. She was then beginning to get frustrated. It had never taken her so long to find him and she had run out of places to look. It then occurred to her that Erik might have had something to do with it. She considered this for a moment. Erik had been keeping his promise not to bother them, but she could tell that his jealousy had not been improving over time. On the other hand, she hadn't heard Mathieu scream at all, so Erik couldn't have done anything too terrible to him. Suzette went through the house again, from top to bottom, this time calling, "Mathieu? I give up! Come out!" But to no avail. She found herself standing outside the music room again, where she knew Erik was. She knew he would be angry and upset if she accused him of breaking his promise, but she didn't know what else to do. Timidly, she pushed open the door and looked in on him. He was at his desk, pouring over a score, and quite obviously in a bad mood.
"Erik?" she whispered.
"Yes, what is it?" he replied shortly.
"Did you- Do you know where Mathieu went?"
"No," he said without looking up, "Perhaps he went home."
"He wouldn't leave without saying good-bye!" Erik looked up and stared at her through his mask.
"Perhaps he was bored," he said smugly, "Perhaps he took his leave while you were waiting for him to hide."
"But I heard him come up here," she whined. Erik gestured about the room as if to say, "Do you see him?"
"Are you quite sure you don't know what became of him?" Suzette asked persistently. She was on the verge of tears.
"My dear young lady, do you think I swallowed him whole? I certainly don't have time to keep track of your playmates." Suzette turned away, forlorn, when suddenly she heard a muffled giggle.
"What was that?" she asked.
"What was what?"
"That sound! I think I heard him!"
"What in here?" Erik said incredulously. Suzette motioned for him to be quiet and tiptoed to the far corner of the room. Suddenly, there was another muffled sound and Suzette cried again, "I hear him! I hear him!"
"I believe you are hallucinating, my girl," Erik replied and turned back to his scores. Suzette ran over to the wall where the instruments were kept and suddenly Mathieu burst forth from within a cello case, with a terrible shriek. Suzette shrieked herself and hugged him.
"I fooled you! I fooled you!" he sang gleefully.
"My dear children, could I have a little more quiet in here? I am trying to work!"
That evening, Mathieu went home proudly with an invitation written by the ghost himself. Aunt Anne couldn't read, but he explained that the ghost wanted him to come every day for the rest of the summer and have lessons with Suzette. Aunt Anne was rather worried that Mathieu had fallen into the hands of a rather eccentric and perhaps dangerous person, but after listening to an hour of pleading from him and Suzette, and having absolutely nothing more practical to do with the lad, she grudgingly gave her consent. So it became the custom for Mathieu to arrive every morning on the arm of Martine, who would return just before sunset to collect him.
During those hours they had many wonderful adventures as Erik poured himself into teaching Matheiu, just as he had for Suzette. He discovered that the boy had a pleasant little soprano voice, and lovingly taught him to sing. He also ordered a brand new Braille machine and some Braille books so that the child could learn to read without straining his poor eyes. It was doubtful to Erik that the boy's vision would improve over time.
It was on such an afternoon that the three of them sat discussing Rousseau and the peculiar scandal he started at the Parisian opera between proponents of the French lyric and the Italian virtuosic styles.
"The whole affair was a rather foolish plot to turn the people against the king. Trying to prove that Italian opera was superior to French opera was as preposterous as trying to say a red rose is prettier then a white swan! Rousseau was a fraud, trying to create division amongst honorable musicians!"
"Did Rousseau even compose opera?" Mathieu asked.
"He plagiarized mostly, and what he did compose was mediocre at best. His only gifts were for rabble rousing and ruining the reputations of decent men."
"How did he do that?" the children asked, wide-eyed.
"By writing lies about them in his pamphlets. He would steal a man's work in one paragraph and insult him in the next. But here, my dears, you can read all about it in these books." He handed the books to Suzette and they scampered to the window seat to read together. Suddenly, there came the buzz of an electric bell.
"Who's there?" Erik called jokingly and to the children he said, "It is the post, my dears, I shall be back in a moment." Erik descended the stairs, greeted the postman from behind the door, and paid him as was his custom. He was shocked to find that he had received a letter addressed to, 'The Opera Ghost'. He supposed that it had been written by Firman, or rather, by some assistant, as the letters were neat and box-like, not at all like Firman's flowing hand. Erik grumbled to himself, wondering what new trouble was going to be visited upon him. Firman had never sent him any correspondence before and Erik had hoped that particular window in his life had been shut up for good.
When he returned to the music room he found the children engaged in their own little 'guerre de buffons', using seat cushions as ammunition rather then incriminating pamphlets. When they saw him they settled back down at once and Erik went and sat at the desk, reading his letter. Suzette nearly fell out of her seat with surprise when Erik jumped up and exclaimed, "I don't believe it!" Suzette looked at Mathieu, who was staring into space curiously and then back to Erik, who seemed to be reading the paper over and over.
"I don't believe it!" he repeated.
"What?" Suzette asked.
"I don't believe it!" Erik exclaimed for the third time.
"For heaven's sake, Erik, what don't you believe?" Erik came over to her and handed her the paper by way of explanation. Apparently, he was still too stunned to speak. Suzette turned the paper over and began to read:
Dear Monsieur,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. In fact, I hope this letter finds you at all. I must tell you that you are not an easy fellow to track down. I am Phineus Taylor Barnum., showman extraordinaire, and co-owner and founder of the Barnum and Bailey Circus-The Greatest Show on Earth. I am a dedicated fan of yours, and I should like nothing more then to have the famous Phantom of the Opera billed in next season's American tour. I promise you will love America as much as I wager America will love you! Be assured also that money is no object. Please find enclosed the necessary funds for a passage to London, where a portion of my company is doing a small tour. I humbly invite you to come and see the show for yourself. I await you arrival with tremendous anticipation.
Sincerely,
P.T. Barnum
Suzette finished reading the letter and looked at Erik in puzzlement.
"What impertinence!" he exclaimed, "I simply can't wait to meet the man!"
"Erik, what does this mean?" Suzette asked.
"It means, my dear, that you and I shall be going to the circus!"
Exactly one week later, Erik, Suzette, and Mathieu were bobbing along in an enormous ship, crossing the channel. Erik had told Mathieu remorsefully that it was entirely unlikely that he would be permitted to go. Most Aunt Annes are not at all understanding when their 10-year-old, blind nephews are invited to go on a once-in-a-lifetime adventure to foreign lands and meet a world-famous swindler and his band of circus performers, chaperoned only by a ghost.
"But if Aunt Anne says I can go?" Mathieu pleaded.
"Then we would be happy to have you, but I'm afraid it is most impossible."
But on the evening of their departure, Mathieu came stumbling up to the porch, clutching an impossibly large bag and shrieking happily, "She said, yes! She said, yes!" Erik looked at Suzette, stunned as Mathieu stuffed a wrinkly bit of paper on which he had scrawled the words, "my nefew (mathieu) can go to the curcus." On the bottom of the paper was his Aunt's signature in wobbly hand.
"She only knows how to write her name, so I had to write the note, but she signed it!" Erik would not have been entirely convinced of the authority of this note, but for the fact that Mathieu proudly displayed a large cake wrapped in cheesecloth, which his aunt had made them for the journey. Erik had to wonder what Mathieu's aunt had been drinking when she gave him permission, but he himself knew very little about the rules of being a parent, so he figured that Aunt Anne simply recognized that Erik was a respectable fellow and was sure to return her young ward in the best of conditions. In any event, it was established that Mathieu was to accompany them on their journey to meet the greatest showman on earth.
They had traveled to the train station under cover of night. Erik wanted to avoid the curious stares as much as possible. Mr. Barnum had sent them more then enough money for a private bunk on the train. Neither of the children had ever been on a train before and they delighted in the sights and sounds of the powerful engine, the long, bouncy corridors, the clinking, clanging dinning car, and the foul-smelling smoking car. Erik remained snug in his cabin, watching the occasional lights of a town shoot by. It was sunrise when they arrived in Breton and Erik had to drag them though the bustling village to the waiting vessel. The children stared wide-eyed at the various, colorful venders and bustling customers, as they stared back at the man in the mask and the small boy with the strange, darting eyes. They were one of the first parties to have boarded the ship, and Erik walked about with the children, explaining the rigging, the sail mechanisms, and countless other items and procedures that interested them. The sailors and deckhands were busy preparing for their departure and hardly gave them a second glance. By lunchtime, the other passengers were beginning to crowd the deck and cramped hallways with their large hooped skirts and clumsy trunks. The three travelers disappeared into their cabin for a light supper. Erik ate nothing, for he hadn't forgotten the last time he had been on a ship and he knew that anything he consumed he would be seeing again. Suzette asked if they might go up to the deck to see the departure, but Erik couldn't tolerate the notion of so many people crowded around him, and Mathieu was in favor of a nap. After lunch, all three of them fell asleep and slumbered heavily until well after standard dinnertime.
That evening, the three of them sat discussing the adventure before them. Erik translated an article from a London newspaper, describing the Barnum and Bailey circus acts.
"Will we really get to see acrobats and contortionists?" Mathieu asked euphorically.
"Certainly, Mathieu, and according to this article, Mr. Barnum has a tremendous menagerie of exotic animals, including a giant elephant he purchased from the London Zoo."
"Oooh!" exclaimed Mathieu, "Is it a white elephant like the one the little Siamese boy in my picture book has?"
"He will be before long if Mr. Barnum finds more people will pay to see a white elephant."
"I can't wait to see the bareback riders and the magicians!" Suzette said dreamily, "Are we going to join the circus like Mr. Barnum asked in his letter?"
"Indeed not. The circus is no life for a child. Besides, who would feed Othello?"
"He can come with us! We could dress in pink tutus and I'd teach him to do tricks. The circus is the perfect place for a talking cat! Wouldn't it be lovely to travel to America? See all the cities like New York and St. Louis? Performing all the way?"
"Ah yes, and then after your act you can come and see me in the freak show. I'll be the one locked in a cage with a crowd of people around me shrieking in terror and pointing and jeering, 'Look at the living-corpse!'" Suzette stared at him in horror.
"Do you really think that Mr. Barnum would put you in a cage?"
"Perhaps not a real cage. But I can think of nothing less pleasant then a crowd of people staring at me day in and day out and whispering amongst themselves about how strange and morbid I am. Even if they never saw my face, even if they only saw my mask, they would still be wondering what lies beneath. They would look upon me with hate, or disgust, or pity. It doesn't matter, it's all the same. None of them would ever see me as anything but a freak and a monster." Suzette looked at him sadly. Mathieu didn't know what to say. At last, he simply said, "Oh Erik, why are we even going then? Why didn't we stay home in the village, far away from those men with their cages." Erik patted the lad on the head and said, "Now don't you worry about Erik, my dear boy. There's not a man alive who can cage me now. But I certainly don't wish to die without seeing the Greatest Show on Earth, at least once. And not every one gets an invitation from the great P.T. Barnum himself!"
Later, as Suzette lay peacefully in her bunk, Mathieu tossed and turned. His stomach ached and he felt as if he would be sick. Erik sat up reading. He knew that any effort at sleep would be futile in the belly of this rampaging bull of a ship. He noticed the little fellow's grief and went over to him.
"Are you ill?" he asked and the miserable child nodded weakly. Erik fetched a basin just in time. He then lifted the child up and sat down with him in the chair, stroking his back gently.
"I'm sorry you aren't feeling well, Mathieu," he whispered.
"I wish Maman was here…" the boy moaned.
"I know you do," whispered Erik as he mopped the perspiration from the boy's face, "But we shall be there in just a few hours and then your stomach will be better."
"Please don't tell Suzette I was sick!" Mathieu begged, "She'll make fun of me."
"I promise, dear boy. Suzette needn't know about that."
All through the night, Erik hummed soothing tunes to the child, until he was asleep in his embrace. Erik was glad that Mathieu had come with them. He doubted seriously that anywhere in the world there was a boy who deserved a chance to see the Greatest Show on Earth more so then the gentle little spirit in his arms. The atmosphere seemed so peaceful that Erik shut his eyes and was able to get some rest the last few hours before dawn.
It was still early morning when the ship docked. Most of the other passengers were still waking up and getting dressed when Erik, Mathieu, and Suzette went galloping through the corridors, making entirely too much noise for Erik's taste. The dock was awake with people and had been for sometime. The children took Erik's hands shyly as they heard the gruff-looking people bellow at one another in their hoarse, sharp accents. Erik had taught Suzette quite a lot of English, but in this strange place, she could understand very little of it indeed. Erik kept himself hidden behind his mask and a long, hooded cloak. They got more then one curious look from people as they passed.
Erik had instructed Suzette that she should do all the talking and that if anyone asked, he was their elderly uncle, taking them for a tour of Britain, and spoke no English. Erik led them up to a fruit vendor and Suzette timidly asked the woman where they might find a place to rent a carriage. The woman eyed them suspiciously, giving Erik's mask a particularly scornful glare, and said, "What's wrong with that boy? Why's he got them funny eyes?" Suzette felt Erik tense up behind her and he pulled Mathieu safely behind his cloak so the vendor couldn't stare at him. Suzette didn't know the English words to describe Mathieu's lack of vision, so she stared at her feet and recited her request for a carriage once more. The woman's plain face wrinkled into a sneer. She wiped her filthy hands on an even filthier apron and pointed a sharp finger toward the road.
"You can walk up to the corner and get a hack there," she said in a condescending jeer. Suzette pretended to translate that for Erik, who was already eyeing the crowd of people at the corner disdainfully.
"Ask her where we can rent a carriage for the day," he whispered to her in French. Suzette did as he instructed her, hoping that she wasn't making too bad a job of it.
"Isn't there a stable where we could rent a carriage for the whole day?" At this, the woman became very cross and said in a threatening voice, "No, I don't know what you're talking about! You can get a taxi," she grumbled as she made a gesture like a person driving horses, "There!" and she thrust her finger in the direction of the street. She said this with such force that Suzette was compelled to step backward, away from her. Erik took her arm in his and hurried them away. Suzette could hear the woman shrieking with cruel laughter and yelling strange words at them as they departed.
"I must not have said it right," Suzette moaned.
"Nonsense, you spoke perfectly," Erik insisted, "That old witch understood you, she was just being difficult." Erik led them to the street where all the people were gathered, fighting over coaches.
"How are we to get a carriage without attracting too much attention?" Suzette wondered. She looked at Erik who was whispering into Mathieu's ear. Mathieu's eyes widened in earnest and he nodded. He then let out a shriek that made a nearby horse rear up and several ladies gasp and hold their little fingers to their painted lips. Mathieu shrieked again and darted into the center of the crowd, where he collapsed, still trembling violently and shrieking like a drunken demon.
Suzette and Erik hurried over to where Mathieu lay. Suzette didn't know what to say but Erik then cried out, "Mathieu! Mathieu! Mon enfant malhereux! Tu as besoin de ton potion! Mon Dieu, aidons-nous!" Suzette did her best to keep up the act.
"It's my brother!" she wailed, "He's having another one of his fits! He needs his medicine straight away!" The crowd stared at Mathieu in horror, but no one moved to touch them.
"Please, someone help us!" Suzette cried, "Someone get us a carriage!"
Suddenly, the crowd parted and a gentleman appeared before them. He was tall, balding, and dressed in the finest of English suites. His face was worn, but rather kind and appealing.
"What have we here, young lady?" he asked warmly, bending over them. Suzette looked up at the gentleman. He looked so kindly that she almost hated to deceive him.
"My brother is having one of his fits, sir! We need to get him home so he can get his medicine!" The gentleman looked from the wide-eyed girl, to the thrashing child, to the strange bandit in the black mask, and a broad smile spread across his face.
"I shall take you in my own carriage," he declared calmly and he said to the crowd in a confident voice, "Let's say we get these fine people into my carriage?" Whether it was the irresistible warmth of his smile, or the certainty of his voice, the people moved aside as if mesmerized and two gentlemen came forward to carry their trunk to the carriage and secure it to the back. Erik lifted the still quaking Mathieu and went with the men to the carriage, while Suzette followed along bewildered. Once they were all settled inside, the gentleman asked, "Now, where abouts do you live?" Suzette looked at Erik and translated the question. Erik fumbled around in his pockets and came up with the paper on which Mr. Barnum had written the location of the theater. He handed it to the gentleman, who examined it carefully. He looked at them with his sparkling eyes and said, "How very convenient! I was going there myself anyway. That's just where I am staying." He passed this information on to the driver and the carriage took off.
"Now, then," the man started amiably after he had examined each of his passengers, "How long have you been in England, my dear?"
"Not long," Suzette answered. At least, she thought that's what she had said.
"The young man seems to be recovering well enough, without his medicine." Suzette looked over at Mathieu, who had forgotten his illness and had his nose pressed tightly against the windowpane. Suzette struggled to quickly come up with an explanation, when the man chuckled and said, "That's a pretty good trick to get a free ride! I really must remember it." Suzette smiled, quite relieved. She glanced over at Erik. His lips were pushed together in very tight line. Suzette wondered if he was worried or if he was trying not to laugh.
"May I assume, young lady, that your companion understands a little more English then he cares to let on?" Suzette smiled at him nervously, "It's certainly possible, sir." The man gave her a nod and a wink, "Very political. Of course that is completely forgivable, mademoiselle. I tend not to let on that I can understand French when I'm in Paris. One learns the most amazing things that way."
"Have you been to Paris, sir?" Suzette asked, attempting to change the subject.
"A few times, mademoiselle. I have some close acquaintances there and every now and then a business transaction that requires my personal attention."
"What sort of business do you do, sir?" Suzette asked. It occurred to her that such a question might be considered impolite for a young lady to ask, but her repertoire of questions in English was rather limited. The gentleman didn't seem to mind at all.
"Well, my dear, I am the largest distributor of flim-flam in the world."
"Oh, I see," said Suzette politely. She didn't know what flim-flam was but from the luxurious look of this gentleman's clothes, she imagined it was something that people bought quite a lot of. Perhaps something like shaving blades, or candles, or stationary.
The rest of the trip passed with many consecutive narratives from the stranger, most of which Suzette didn't understand. These were broken occasionally by Mathieu's sudden bursts of joy when his eyes found something he liked through the window. Erik sat silently and moved only to place his hand lightly on Mathieu's shoulder when he got too excited. When they arrived at their destination, the gentleman opened the door for them and they scrambled from the carriage to the lobby, to avoid being soaked in the pouring rain.
"Well, monsieur," said the man, addressing Erik directly for the first time, "I am so very glad that you have decided to come to London. I certainly hope that you will give me the honor of having you're here for supper."
"The honor would be mine, Mr. Barnum," said Erik graciously. Suzette's mouth fell open. Mr. Barnum acknowledged him with a small bow and said, "Let's say we go up and eat in my suite. I'm in favor of a peaceful meal before the hustle and bustle of the show tonight." Erik voiced his agreement and the whole party headed up to Mr. Barnum's suite.
"The gentleman, he's Mr. Barnum," Suzette whispered to Mathieu, "They knew each other all along!"
The room was gorgeous and elaborate. From the intrinsic angels in the crown molding to the lavish Persian rugs, the room shone with opulence. They sat down together at a beautiful, Italian table, and while they were waiting for their food, Mr. Barnum got down to business.
"Please allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Phineus Taylor Barnum, humbug extraordinaire. Now how shall I call you? The Phantom of the Opera is a tiresome, long name to go by."
"And a title that I retired without regret. You may call me Erik, Mr. Barnum. It is the only name I have now."
"Very well, sir. Erik it shall be. And who are these charming objects?" he asked motioning to Suzette and Mathieu.
"These are Suzette and Mathieu," Erik replied.
"I see," said Mr. Barnum, "Small phantoms."
"No, monsieur. Angels." Mr. Barnum smiled at Erik and said, "Indeed we are blessed, you and I. I have three at home in Connecticut, you know. Three lovely, little, practical girls, like this one. Men like us need such gentle creatures around to keep us on the straight and narrow. Isn't that right my dear?" Suzette looked at him and nodded slowly, though she had no idea what the straight and narrow meant.
The meal came at once and it was quite satisfactory to the three travelers, though Mr. Barnum eyed it critically.
"It's hard to find good food in this country," he muttered, "Though I do love my stays in London, all the food tastes like paste to me. Hand me that pepper mill, my dear!"
As they were finishing their lunch, the door opened and two interesting characters entered the room. Barnum wiped his face with his napkin and exclaimed, "Bless my soul, you're just in time! Gentlemen, may I present M. Erik, famed villain from the Palais Garnier, and his two young accomplices, Mathieu and Suzette. Erik, this is Mr. Gregory, my financial manager here in London, and Mr. Sutton, the legendary Tom Thumb, and one of my oldest and dearest friends." The gentlemen bowed and the children said, "How do you do?" in their funny, Parisian style.
Suzette and Mathieu stared at Mr. Sutton. He was as bright-eyed and kindly as Mr. Barnum, though a good bit rounder. He was dressed in a fashionable English suit that fit him well. They judged him to be in his mid to late thirties, though he had a lively air about him. But the thing that made them stare was that for all his normal, healthy appearance, Mr. Sutton was not an inch taller then Mathieu. He stood in stark contrast to Mr. Gregory, who was tall and thin and had a distinct no-nonsense look about him.
"Mr. Gregory has come to deliver some papers, on his way to the theater and Mr. Sutton has come for some reason yet unbeknownst to me." Mr. Sutton smiled as Mr. Gregory handed a thick packet to Mr. Barnum and departed and then said, "I only wanted some company, Mr. Barnum. Livinia has gone out with some lady friends, and I have found myself alone in my suite with not a thing to do. So I said to myself, 'Charlie, who do we know that can put us up to some entertaining and well-meaning mischief on this unpleasantly wet afternoon, while our wife is out with friends?' The unanimous decision was you, Taylor."
I believe I have just the adventure for you, Charlie," said Mr. Barnum casually and he turned to the children, "Would you like to go down to the grounds with Mr. Sutton and take an exclusive tour of the menagerie?" Suzette's eyes lit up with excitement. She looked to Erik pleadingly.
"Please, may I go?" Erik had a strange feeling that there were probably very good reasons that he should not allow his handsome, young wards to go away with a strange dwarf he had never met before, with the purpose of exploring the pre-show pandemonium of a circus. Fortunately, he could not think of a single one, so he was obliged to give his consent. The children hopped around with excitement and Mr. Sutton led them from the room, whistling the tune of "Daisy Belle", like some sort of miniature pied piper.
"Now then, Erik," said Mr. Barnum, "Let's get down to business."
"First I should like to know how you found me and came to send me that letter." Mr. Barnum chortled and said, "My dear sir, that is a very long story. To say the least, I read about the mysterious opera ghost while on business in Paris. This evil spirit was attributed to a handful of deaths, accidents, and disappearances. Of course, you know all this."
"Of course. Please, continue, Mr. Barnum."
"I can smell a profitable hoax a mile away and went to the opera to investigate the circumstances, find who was running the hoax, and buy it from the person, if possible. I spent quite a few weeks there in the opera house, interviewing at least a hundred people who claimed to have seen the specter. Each person had an interesting and unique story to tell, and several of them were quite gruesome. It was just the sort of thing that people love to hear about. I became enthralled by the whole affair and employed the use of several spies to find out as much information as I could. My initial conclusion was that the opera ghost was something that the managers had made up in order to attract publicity or to provide a scapegoat for accidents that they would otherwise be held liable for. I harassed them night and day for more information, promising them a small fortune if they would give me their secret. It was not until I heard the interview of one, Madame Giry, regarding the ghost's ingenious scam in which he received a mysterious salary of 20,000 francs a month from the managers that I began to entertain the notion that the managers may in fact be the victims in this hoax. At this point, I had no idea where to look next, so I had one of my spies break into the manager's office. It seemed to me likely that the perpetrator of this scam had intimate knowledge of the opera and how it was run. I asked my spy to gather as much information about the employees and subscribers, specifically names and addresses. From this information, I compiled a list of about 50 likely addresses. I wrote up the letter that brought you here and sent it to each one, along with a substantial amount of money for expenses. I hoped, as I'm sure you have guessed, that at least one of the letters would reach the right person and that person would be compelled to come to London and tell me the whole story. I imagined that the other 49 envelopes would be considered a joke that gave the receiver quite a bit of extra pocket money. So you see, monsieur, I didn't really find you at all, I simply guessed."
Erik seemed much amused by this. "That was indeed a very clever trick. I was so startled by your letter, I never even considered the notion that it might have been a bluff."
"Well I am so very glad that it worked so beautifully. I am astonished. I had no idea who to expect, but I certainly didn't expect you!" Erik laughed aloud at this.
"The humorous thing about it, Mr. Barnum, is that you completely took me in and you don't even know half the story. You were assuming that all the narratives that you heard from chorus girls and stagehands were all rubbish. You believed that the Phantom of the Opera was the creation of their imaginative superstition, encouraged by the efforts of some swindler in the background. You took it that all the singers, the dancers, the crew, the carpenters, the stable boys, the police investigators, the patrons, and even the managers, all of whom told you that the Opera Populaire was under the curse of a phantom,- you took it that they were all 'suckers', as you say. It didn't even occur to you that the Phantom could actually exist."
Erik paused here and glanced at Mr. Barnum. He was leaning so far forward in his chair that he ran the risk of toppling over. He stared at the masked stranger in complete amazement. He had spent nearly two hours with the man, but suddenly he had a tremendous desire to see behind that mask.
"Do you mean to say that you are not the phantom, Monsieur?"
"I do not, Mr. Barnum. You have, indeed, got the right man," Erik said this last word with intense disdain.
"I'm afraid I do not understand," Mr. Barnum said, still staring at the mask.
"You will, Mr. Barnum. I shall explain the whole affair. You see, sir, all those people you interviewed were correct that the Phantom of the Opera did exist, but not one of them knew the whole story either. You will be the only one. Not even she knew everything. I see you are looking at my mask now. You wish for me to take it off? You want to see what lies beneath? The opera ghost has no face, Mr. Barnum! But now you are even more confused. Don't fret, Mr. Barnum! I will explain it all to you, free of charge. I want to tell you. Rather, I need to tell you. And you will be the only one to know my whole story."
Erik spent the rest of the afternoon, telling Barnum the tale of how he had come to the Opera Populaire and how he had built his home in the fifth cellar. He told him how the people began to call him the opera ghost and how he had used their superstition to get money, supplies, and his own private box for performances. He explained how he had gotten the managers to give him 20,000 francs each month. He then recounted the tragic tale of how he had seen Christine Daae, fallen in love with her, and became her teacher. He then told how he had abducted her from the stage and imprisoned her with him in his apartment. He told him how the Viscount and the Persian had come to rescue her, only to end up in his room of tortures. He explained the deaths of Bouquet and Philippe de Chagny. Then, sobbing, he recounted how Christine had kissed him for the first time, and he had released her and her lover, to return to the world of the living.
Barnum sat in silence through the whole narrative, moving only to brush a few tears from his face. When he had finished, Erik explained that he had no interest in joining Barnum's circus, that he was, at last, happy as he was and wished to remain so for the rest of his days.
After that, Barnum told him about his show. He told him about the acts he had showed over the years and Erik laughed at the stories of Joyce Heth-the oldest woman in the world, the Fugee Mermaid, the petrified giant, the American museum, and General Tom Thumb. Barnum was in the middle of showing him newspaper photographs of the "General's" wedding when Erik pointed to a strange contraption in the corner of the room.
"What does that do?" he asked.
"Why, that's an Edison Talking Machine," Barnum exclaimed, "Would you like to try it out?" Erik said that he'd love to and Barnum showed him how to put the little cylinders in place and wind the machine up properly. Barnum placed the needle and the room was suddenly filled with his own voice, cracking jokes and praising his circus. Erik was delighted and sat listening to several different cylinders. They were mostly band music, but Erik was amazed at the recorded sound. He wondered if he could build one of his own.
They were in the middle of a rousing Souza march when the children came bounding back into the room, both talking at once.
"Hello, my darlings! Did you have a good time?"
"Oh, Erik!" Suzette exclaimed, "Mr. Thumb showed us the whole sideshow! There were all sorts of performers! Musicians, acrobats, majorettes, and clowns! We got to watch them practicing and there was a big man who took me up on the high wire!"
"My word! A little girl on the high wire? I certainly hope you said, 'thank you'!"
"And I got to ride on the elephant!" Mathieu said, grinning!
"How lovely!"
"Yes, they had all sorts of animals in the menagerie," Suzette continued, "They even had prairie dogs and they were just as you read in that book! They kept popping their little heads out of their holes! They were so funny!"
"I should like to see that!" Erik exclaimed.
"Well you'll get your chance tomorrow afternoon," Mr. Barnum promised cheerfully, "Tonight you shall all come with me to a dear friend's home for dinner. Charles will be there as well. I think you will all have a good time."
Erik was both euphoric and terrified about the invitation. He had never in his life been invited to a party. His first instinct was to decline, but Mr. Barnum was persistent and promised that it would only be a few, intimate friends. He relented and agreed to come, but instantly regretted it. He was terribly afraid of meeting Mr. Barnum's friends, though he tried not to show it as he and the children were dressing for the evening.
Erik had not been planning on a dinner party and he objected that he had nothing suitable to wear. Mr. Barnum laughed heartily at this and promised that, among his friends, anything that he endeavored to put on would be more then suitable. Even so, Erik stood before the full-length mirror in the suite Mr. Barnum had secured for them, fussing and brushing at a suit that was a little more casual then he would have liked. After examining himself critically for sometime he gave up, allowing that he would look like a skeleton whether he sported a the most fashionable of dress wear or a bathing suit.
He then turned to examine the children, who were chasing each other around the suite, ducking behind chairs, and hooting like a pair of African tribal warriors. Mathieu, who had never owned a dress-suit in his life, was wearing a rather stylish men's suit and jacket in miniature. The whole ensemble had been borrowed from Mr. Sutton and it came complete with opera cape, top hat, and jeweled walking stick. The effect was rather comical and both Erik and Mr. Barnum had laughed aloud to see the funny little chap strutting around in a grown man's outfit, trying to look dignified. Suzette was wearing a lovely, emerald-colored party dress, which accented her golden curls and bright, blue eyes enchantingly.
Erik watched her playing adoringly and was suddenly lost in a daydream. He was crouched in the shadows beneath a dark staircase, listening enviously to two other children who whispering happily. They were a handsome pair, full of life and joy, and blissfully unaware of the wretch who sat, lustfully taking in their every word. "Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing," they recited, "Her hair was as gold as the rays of the sun, and her eyes, as clear and blue as her soul. She wheedled her mother, was kind to her doll, took good care of her frock, her little red shoes, and her fiddle, but most of all, when she went to sleep…"
Erik was started back to the real world, where Suzette's smiling face looked up to him expectantly. He realized that he'd been reciting the little rhyme aloud. Before he could excuse himself, Suzette concluded, "She loved to hear the Angel of Music."
"What did you say?" Erik whispered in horror.
"Little Lotte. But most of all, when she went to sleep, she loved to hear the Angel of Music."
"How on earth do you know that?" he asked earnestly. Suzette's face broke into a wide smile, "Why, you've told me that before, Erik. When I was little…"
"I assure you, you never heard that from me, mademoiselle!" Erik interrupted. Suzette's face scrunched up as she tried to remember.
"Perhaps it was Papa that said it to me?"
"I suppose…" Erik thought it rather strange that Suzette should know that particular rhyme, but for all he knew it was one which every child knew. At least, every child that was not a living corpse. Mathieu peered at them over the back of a cushiony armchair that he was kneeling on.
"Is it nearly time to go down and meet Mr. Barnum?" he asked anxiously.
"It is indeed, Mathieu."
The three of them made their way down to the lobby to meet Mr. Barnum and his party, amidst the stares of other patrons and the housekeeping staff. Erik had encouraged Suzette to bring alone her brand new violin. He imagined that the sight of two charming children making music might be enough to take the attention off of his mask. Mr. Barnum greeted them boisterously in his gleaming American manner and they hurried through the rainstorm to his waiting carriage.
After a tumultuous ride in the carriage, they arrived at a lovely mansion in the west end. Mr. Barnum led them up the front stairs and into the foyer where two pretty French girls were waiting to take their cloaks. The two girls nudged each other and whispered nasty things in French behind their petite hands. Suzette told them succinctly, in French, to shove off and their eyes went as wide as soup dishes as they scrambled into the back room. Erik had to strain himself to not break out laughing as he reminded Suzette that she was a guest and to act like a lady.
Mr. Barnum led them through the house, following the sound of merry laughter and strains of piano music, to the salon, where all the people were gathered. The room was luxuriously decorated, with lovely Italian furniture and impressively flamboyant artwork in every corner. There were about ten people in the room, including Mr. Sutton and a very small woman who could only be his wife Lavinia. Some of the people, Suzette recognized from her afternoon at the circus, though they looked much different in their dress clothes, but many others were new, and most of them bore the fashion of aristocracy. Mr. Barnum led them through this small mob to petite lady with billowing chestnut locks, warm, blue eyes, and a glistening smile. When she saw the approaching party she exclaimed in her bell-like voice, "Why, it's Taylor Barnum at last!" Mr. Barnum bowed graciously to her and kissed her white hand.
"My dear Mlle. Lind, it is so good to see you again. This is my new friend from Paris and his two wards. Erik, may I present Mademoiselle Jenny Lind, the famed Swedish Nightingale." Erik seemed to be awestruck by this beautiful lady, but he at last managed a graceful bow. Mlle Lind gave him another magical smile and offered him a lovely, soft hand, "It is a pleasure, Monsieur," she cooed, "Any friend of Taylor's is a friend of mine." Erik reached out hesitantly. Suzette watched him in disbelief. He acted as if he thought his touch would cause her to melt like a water drop touching a sugar lump. Mlle. Lind gently scooped up his thin hand in both of hers and announced to her guests, "Now that we are all here we can serve dinner!"
The dinner was delicious and everyone enjoyed his or herself quite a lot. Mathieu gobbled down his dinner as fast as he could so that he could go and amuse himself with another small boy, whose hands were large and malformed so that they looked like the pinchers of a crayfish. The other boy spoke as much French as Mathieu spoke Greek, but they played together anyway, in the language of children. The rest of the guests sat about talking about various news and events. Erik and Mlle. Lind sat discussing the orchestral attributes of Rameau's operas. Erik was so engrossed with this shimmering lady that he completely forgot to worry about the other guests looking at his mask. Suzette sat quietly beside him, wondering what all the fuss was over.
Suddenly, the conversation was interrupted by the clink of glasses and someone calling for Mr. Barnum to make a toast. The champagne was brought around, though Mr. Barnum told the server loudly, "Just enough for a toast for me. I'm not any sort of drinker. Champagne and beautiful women have a way of making a fool out of a practical man." Once the champagne was properly dispersed, Mr. Barnum raised his glass and said, "To all of my dear friends gathered around me…May all of your lives be blessed with joy, love, and a fair potion of humbug!" The guests laughed at this and raised their glasses eagerly to joy, love, and humbug.
Suzette reached over and tapped Erik's arm, "May I show Mlle. Lind my spider trick?" she whispered.
"Certainly not! But you may play her a piece on your fiddle if she'd care to hear it."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Mlle. Lind exclaimed, "Everyone! This charming little lady is going to play us something on her violin! Let's all go into the salon and listen." The guests chattered warmly to one another as they gathered up their champagne glasses and chose their seats around the pianoforte. One of the little maids brought her violin case and Suzette opened it fondly. The violin had been a gift from Erik only a few weeks earlier. He had ordered it especially for her from a well-known Italian maker, earlier in the year when it became apparent that her old model was too small for her sprawling limbs. It was her very first full-sized instrument and she was very proud of it. It took a little longer to tune as each of the strings were brand-new and kept sliding. Finally she had the instrument and the bow the way she wanted them and Erik asked her what she wanted to play. Suzette thought for a moment and suggested the Mendelssohn concerto that they had been working on.
Suzette gave the signal to start and she began to play the solo while Erik elegantly played the orchestral reduction on the pianoforte. The guests stared in wonder as they were bathed in strains of Mendelssohn's magical sound. Suzette played with a passion that most people wouldn't have thought possible from such a young spirit. When the movement was ended everyone clapped enthusiastically and Mlle. Lind sighed with delight.
"Well done, young lady! Magnificently done!" shouted an elderly English gentleman, who extended his hand in congratulation. Suzette blushed and shook his hand timidly, saying, "Thank you, sir."
"Yes, indeed, my dear!" exclaimed Mlle. Lind emphatically, "And well done, Erik!"
Erik bowed his head in recognition and said, "Thank you, mademoiselle. You are too kind."
"Not at all," she said, "Clearly you both have been touched by the angel of music!"
The rest of the evening progressed with Erik and Suzette playing little etudes and dances together. Eventually, after his new friend's parents had scooped up their boy and taken him home to bed, Mathieu came back to the salon and sang a few songs as well. Eventually, most of the guests went home as well, leaving only Mlle. Lind, Mr. Barnum, and Mr. And Mrs. Sutton. It was at this point that Mr. Barnum, nudged Mlle. Lind and said, "Let's have a song, Jenny." She began to protest that she hadn't sung in public in years, but Mr. Barnum cut her off, pointing out that a few guests in her own salon hardly constituted 'in public'. Mlle. Lind stood up primly and pulled a score off the shelf, which she placed on the music stand before Erik. Erik played the introduction and she began to sing. Though she didn't have the same sound she had possessed in her younger years, her tone was still beautiful and bell-like. The aria she chose washed over them, accentuating her brilliant coloratura. The audience of five clapped wildly when she finished. Mlle. Lind performed a few more arias from well-known Oratorios, with Erik accompanying her, when suddenly Mr. Barnum announced, "Now I think we shall have a duet!" Mlle Lind looked at him in horror and Mr. Barnum said laughingly, "Now, don't look at me that way, my dear lady! I have no intention of singing! I only meant that you and Erik should sing a duet." The singer looked quite relieved to hear that and she looked at Erik questioningly.
Erik bowed his head and said, "I'd be honored, Mademoiselle." To their surprise, Erik produced a thin leather case from thin air and thumbed through its' contents until he found the paper he was looking for. He handed it to Mlle. Lind and said, "Would you like to try this? It isn't from an opera or oratorio, but I think it is perfect for your voice." She smiled graciously and nodded. Soon the room was filled with their voices. The piece was lovely, filled with passion and emotion. His angelic swells mingled perfectly with her clear, light tone. They forget the world around them as their voices seemed to rise higher and higher, until they reached the stars. When the piece was finished the whole room was in silent awe. When at last, Mlle. Lind turned to Erik, there were tears running down her fair cheeks.
"Thank you, monsieur," she whispered reverently, "I don't know when I last sang that way."
When, at last, it was time for them to depart, Erik led his sleepy children to the door, where Mr. Sutton was shaking Mlle. Lind's hand and saying how nice it had been to see her again and that the party had been first rate. As Erik stood on the porch he said, "Thank you, Mademoiselle, for having us." She gave him another dazzling smile and lent over, kissing his brow, just above the edge of his mask.
"Thank you, Monsieur. I don't suppose I shall ever forget this night." Erik stood in shock as she disappeared into the house. Slowly, he gathered himself up and made his way to the carriage, though he clutched Suzette to him, for fear that he might collapse if he didn't hold on to something solid.
Erik remained in a state of shock for the whole carriage ride. He was still dazed when they said good-bye to Mr. Barnum in the lobby, and even when the Sutton's walked with them down the corridor which led to both of their rooms. He was only barely conscious when he stood in the hallway, making plans for the next morning with Mr. Sutton. In fact, Erik was not properly started out of his euphoric state until Suzette blurted out, "Mr. Sutton, are you a freak?" Erik was horror-struck and for the first time in his life, he felt fortunate not to have any facial expression, because he was sure that he had to be the most embarrassed gentleman in the northern hemisphere. Mr. Sutton looked at Suzette curiously and said, "What do you mean, child?" Suzette glanced over at Erik, who if he hadn't been clutching a sleeping Mathieu over his shoulder would have clapped his hand over her mouth and rushed her inside the room.
"Erik says that men like Mr. Barnum lock people who are freaks in cages so everyone can look at them and be mean to them, but Mr. Barnum seems like such a nice man! He wouldn't do that to anyone would he?" To Erik's relief, Mr. Sutton didn't seem angry at all. He simply sighed and said to her calmly, "Well, my dear, I've found that there isn't much to be sure of where people are concerned. The righteous of the world would say that some men are good while some men are bad. Sometimes, one of those people would go to a circus to throw rocks and insults at a person in a cage. And sometimes, one of those men who those same righteous would call a crook and a monster would help out a poor kid with no one else to go to.
But there is one thing that I am sure of, and that is that Mr. Barnum is a first rate gentleman, and in my whole life, he is one of the kindest I've ever met.
Do you know, young lady, that when I was a kid, my father was ashamed of me? That's right, when I was even less then half of your age, I knew my own father was ashamed of me because of my size. Well, the first time I ever met Mr. Barnum, he promised my mother and I that in less then a year, there would never be cause for my parents to be embarrassed of me again. And do you know, that is one promise that he kept.
Mr. Barnum has been my friend for almost as long as I can remember. He took care of me, saw that I was educated by the best available, took me on tours around the world, and always made sure that my mother was with me. They made a fortune convincing people that Tom Thumb was a remarkable person, and before long he had me convinced of it as well.
Now, that's not to say that I haven't had a few rocks chucked my way. Indeed, Mr. Barnum has had more then his fair share of rocks as well. Those are hard times, but I ask you, what would have became of me if I'd never left Bridgeport, Connecticut? Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Suzette looked up at him sleepily and nodded. She seemed to be immensely relieved.
"Thank you, Mr. Sutton," she said gently and Erik said goodnight and led them into their suite. All the time, he was getting them into their beds, he thought of what Mr. Sutton had said. As he slipped off to sleep himself, he thought of what a wonderful day they'd had and silently concluded that Mr. Sutton was right. Mr. Barnum was indeed a first-rate gentleman.
Then next day, Erik found himself being drug through a swirl of movement and color, by Mathieu and Suzette. They wanted to show him everything they had seen in the sideshow. Erik delighted in the many imaginative exhibits, strange beasts, acrobats, and magicians. His favorite part of the sideshow was the calliope. It was the most obscene instrument of torture he had ever seen. It was completely incomprehensible to him how anyone could work in its immediate vicinity, and still retain a shred of sanity. He stood at a distance admiring its many brightly colored pipes, when the children began to pull on him once more.
"The show will start soon! We must find our seats!" They were making their way through the sideshow tents when suddenly Suzette cried out, "Look, Erik!" Erik looked and saw an enormous glass tank, filled nearly to his chest with earth. They drew close and Erik could see that inside the tank were dozens of funny little rabbit-like creatures, crawling around in tunnels under the dirt, and popping in and out of holes on the surface.
"It's the prairie dogs! Aren't they funny?" They were indeed funny. Every time someone got too close one would throw his little arms into the air and give a squeal. The others would imitate him and then they would all rush for their holes. Erik would have liked to watch them longer, but they were in a hurry to get their seats.
Mr. Barnum had given them some of the best seats in the house, right before the center ring. Erik sat with the children, quite unnerved by the number of people around him who were staring and pointing at his mask.
"They must think we're part of the show," he grumbled. Suzette shrugged and shot a dirty look at a particularly obnoxious boy with pimples and rather large ears, who kept gawking in their direction. The boy got an evil look in his eye and whispered something to an even more disagreeable-looking boy who had a harelip and was missing two teeth. The other boy looked over at them with his beady eyes and they both began to laugh hatefully. Suzette hunched down in her seat, her face burning, as the two boys shouted obscene things at her in English, over the crowd. The crowd reacted in various ways, some laughing, some feigning shock at such terrible rudeness, and still others simply ignoring and raising the voices to be heard over their profane shouts. They were now standing on their seats and pointing at them as they shouted and Suzette was fighting tears, when suddenly, the boy with the large ears emitted a horrible honking sound. This caught the attention of several people sitting by and the boy's companion looked at his chum in surprise. Indeed, the boy looked surprised himself. The fellow with the harelip began to say something to him when suddenly, loud and clear, there came the same braying sound from his lips. The boys looked at each other in horror and the crowd stared at them in amusement. The boys began to try to talk again, but anytime they attempted to speak there came that awful sound again, like the 'hee-haw' of a mule. As the unfortunate youths became more and more panicked, the braying became louder and more urgent. The crowed laughed so hard at these pre-show clowns that they eventually drowned out the strange voices. They boys did not know what to make of this strange occurrence and in order to prevent any further humiliation they resolved themselves to sit in their seats once more and not speak at all. The crowd eventually calmed down, as the show was about to begin. Suzette regarded Erik, who had remained quite silent during the whole episode, apparently too engrossed in his program to take notice.
"Why so silent, Erik?" she asked him.
"What is there to say?" he responded, "When two young gentlemen elect to make jackasses of themselves in public?"
Erik, Suzette, and Mathieu were all in awe throughout the entire show. Mr. Barnum's collection of spectacles was both eclectic and amazing. There were contortionists, acrobats, clowns, traipse artists, fire dancers, trick riders, animal trainers, pyrotechnics, illusionists, and hypnotists all performing to the piercing, thumping sound of a marching band. Even after his years of performing circus acts and illusions, Erik saw a great many things he had never seen before. The "small touring company" as Mr. Barnum had called it, easily earned its reputation as the 'greatest show on earth'. At the finale of the performance, there was a dazzling display of fireworks, which impressed the entire crowd.
After the show, Mr. Barnum met them at the gate and invited Erik to his suite for tea.
"Thank you indeed, Mr. Barnum," he replied courteously, "But we must be leaving for the ship."
"Oh, no!" the children exclaimed, even as Mr. Barnum cried in dismay, "But you've hardly just arrived!"
"It truly seems that way, but we must catch our ship back to Breton."
"Are you sure you won't stay here and travel with us to America in two weeks?" Suzette and Mathieu jumped up and down and looked at him pleadingly but Erik simply said, "I'm afraid not. Though we've had a lovely time. We must go back to the hotel to get our trunk and be on our way. Will you accompany us?"
"Certainly, I want to say good-bye properly."
"Excellent. I have a surprise for you, Mr. Barnum." Mr. Barnum's eyes lit up and he called the carriage to take them back to the hotel.
In the early hours of the next morning, Erik lay in a strange bed, with Suzette and Mathieu curled up on either side of him. Nearby, in the darkness, he could make out the lumpy shape of the Edison Talking Machine, which Mr. Barnum had given him as a gift. Erik almost laughed aloud as he recalled the expression on Mr. Barnum's face when he opened the box he'd given him to reveal a long, menacing noose made from hard, black fibers. When Mr. Barnum looked up at him in confusion, Erik explained, "It is the Punjab lasso. Since you won't be getting the phantom of the opera in your show, you may have his weapon of choir to exhibit." Mr. Barnum laughed, "But are you sure that it is authentic, my friend? I could never exhibit an imposter!" Erik laughed now and retorted, "I can personally guarantee it, Mr. Barnum." Mr. Barnum shook his hand enthusiastically. Erik could see that he was delighted by the gift.
Mr. Sutton had gifts for the children as well. Mathieu received a small black box, filled with the needed supplies for several different slight-of-hand tricks, as well as the written secrets for performing them. Suzette was given a lovely, antique necklace with several brightly colored stones in it. The center stone was the same color as Suzette's eyes, though it changed its tint slightly with the slightest change of light. Mr. Sutton promised her that it brought good fortune and had even been known to grant wishes. Suzette thanked him and allowed him to place it around her neck.
"Erik?" Suzette whispered softly in the darkness. He was started from his thoughts. He hadn't known she was still awake.
"What should I wish for?" she asked dreamily.
"Oh, I don't know? What more could you wish for after such an adventure?"
"Well, what would you wish for?" Erik remained silent for a long time while he pondered the question. At last he whispered, not sure if Suzette was even awake to hear him, "I wish I could smile. Then you could look into my eyes and know how very happy you've made me." And with that his heavy eyelids closed and he fell fast asleep.