CHAPTER 8

Meg feared that they would not be able to locate Christine. It was getting late, and they already had inquired about her to several people working at the train station (for they knew this was how she must have come there) but no one remembered seeing her. Finally they came across one man who said that a lady fitting their description had asked about and inn she might stay at, and he gave Meg and Raoul the name of the place he had recommended.

"Has a young lady come here seeking a room?" Raoul asked the innkeeper. "She has dark curly hair and brown eyes, and her name is Christine Daae."

"Why do you want to know?" said the suspicious man.

"She is my sister, and we must find her. She forgot to give me the address of the inn where she would be staying," Meg lied.

The man seemed to soften a little. "Well, now that you mention it, a Mademoiselle Daae is staying here. Came this afternoon."

"Could you show us to her room?"

"Follow me." He led them to the second story of the building, and showed them the room. Raoul knocked. "Christine? Christine are you in there?"

"Christine please open the door!" pleaded Meg.

"Christine!" Raoul knocked again, harder.

"Oh, come to think of it, she came and went."

"When?" asked Raoul.

"Oh, about an hour ago."

"Did she say where?"

"No."

"Monsieur, perhaps there may be some clue inside her room." Meg turned to the innkeeper. "Could you open the door for us?"

He looked dubious again. "Please sir! It may be a matter of life and death!"

"Alright, alright." He took out a key chain and tried several of them before finally coming upon the right one. "There you are!"

Meg and Raoul went inside. "It hardly looks as if she were here." Meg began opening drawers in the boudoir. Raoul noticed Christine's open bag on the floor, and was about to look at it when he observed a piece of paper on the desk, and went to see what it was. "Meg, look! An address." Meg looked over his shoulder at it. Beneath the address was written, in Christine's flowing and lovely hand:

"I've past the point of no return."

Raoul and Meg looked at each other with wide, frightened eyes.

He stared at her, staggered with shock. For a moment neither of them made a move, or spoke. He longed to hear her voice; he hoped she would not speak. Then she said:

"Erik!" Erik! She said that name, that detestable name. The name had been given him by a mother who could not bare to look at him; that woman who…

"Why have you come here!" he said. "Why have you come here!"

She flinched. She had hardly known the word was coming from her mouth. Now she simply continued to stare back at him, saying nothing. She saw he was wearing the white half-mask -- How did he…?

"Have you come to torment me? Looking at me like that!"

He watched the tears well in her eyes, and cursed himself; You monster! You have made her cry!"

"Please, do not -- do not cry," he whispered. He advanced a step, then stopped; for he dared go no further. Oh! She was so beautiful still. Her loveliness was beyond dimension. How could one be so perfect?

"I have come…Erik! My Angel," she cried. "Please forgive me." She began to walk toward him. "Grant me your forgiveness, I --"

"No!" he shouted. "Enough! It is too much to bear!" He turned and ran from the room, but Christine followed; followed him up a common flight of stairs, and up a much smaller and narrower one, to an attic. His room, she saw.

"Please, listen to me --"

"Go!" In the dim light from a lamp in a corner of the room she could see him cover his face.

"I beg you to listen to me," she entreated.

"Leave!"

"Go now! Go now and leave me!"

She knew now it was true, she had to say it:

"Let me, oh won't you allow me to tell you how I love you?"

He swirled around and faced her. Was she mad? She did not know what she was saying. Impetuous girl! Sweet thing of beauty. How she tortured him!

"You love this?" He tore away his mask to show her his face, his face…

"-- which earned a mother's fear and loathing; a mask my first unfeeling scrap of clothing --"

Christine's throat swelled when she saw him, but it was because she felt such compassion for this poor creature…

"Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known?"

"I told you before, your face held no more horror for me. I told you the truth." She witnessed such despair in his eyes, shining in the light.

"-- Those eyes that burn --"

Why did she put him through this? Why did she suffer him to feel such agony?

"Erik," she said.

"Chris -- Christine!" It gave him such pain to utter her name. He dropped to his knees and wept; hiding his face, he sobbed. He was in a world of unending misery and wretchedness. He did not hear Christine walk over to him, but he felt her hands softly stroke his hair and he looked up at her, tears running down his face.

"-- Yet in his eyes all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore."

"My love, do not reject me. I don't know how you can trust me again, but I implore you to one last time. I cannot live without you." She got down on her knees also, and took his hands in her own. "Please, my Angel."

Her eyes beseeched him. Could she mean what she said? No, impossible, for no one could love him. He was a beast, a repugnant, misshapen, grotesque being.

"-- Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere; no kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere --"

He could never win the love of one so pure, so flawless, so exquisite. Yet her eyes belied his thoughts, and he knew that she was sincere. Could he refuse her love? The only love any human had ever felt for him.

"-- Why do you curse mercy?"

He raised his hand, and gently, almost fearfully, touched it to her face. She smiled, and closed her eyes in pleasure.