Chapter Seventeen
Le Viscomte
Raoul de Chagney watched his beloved singing from box 3. The moment the first note crossed her lips he knew that Erik was there. She sensed him out there somewhere, crouching in the darkness, and she was singing just for him. The Viscount was filled with rage and fear and a minute before Christine left the stage he commanded his son to be still and not leave the box for any reason and then went backstage to console her.
When she saw Raoul she fell into his arms and clasped his hand in hers.
"What shall I do?" she asked him.
"Sing your very best, and don't worry. I'll be right here waiting with Nicholas when you get off the stage and we'll leave through the side door."
"I'm frightened."
"If he comes near you I'll kill him."
"Raoul?"
"I won't let him take you. You'll see. Everything is going to be fine."
"But, that's not what frightens me. I am sure that he means us no harm."
"Then what are you frightened of, Christine?" She raised her hands in desperation.
"I'm not sure. Do you promise to be here waiting for me?"
"I promise." Christine looked nervously about her.
"Then go and keep close watch of Nicholas." She was doing her best to be brave and Raoul was reluctant to leave her. She smiled at him radiantly and squeezed his hand.
"You said yourself that there was nothing to worry about. Be here the moment I come off stage. I won't even take a final bow." Raoul nodded and went back to the box.
To his horror, Nicholas was nowhere to be found. The Viscount was about cry out for help when he heard a soft giggle near the floor and suddenly Nicholas climbed out from behind the curtain.
"What were you doing back there?" the father demanded.
"I was looking for the ghost," the child told him.
"What ghost?"
"The opera ghost. I was talking to him but I couldn't find him anywhere."
"Don't speak to strangers, Nicholas."
"Not even to ghosts, Papa?"
"Especially not ghosts."