Chapter Eleven - To Draw The Truth From Her Soul

His eyes held hers as she spoke, but his gaze seemed to soften at the mention of that name.

He loves Christine…

"What did she tell you?"

"Only that she had heard the Angel of Music, the Angel her father promised her."

He laughed, the sound was harsh and rich as it carried through the stony chambers.

"Ah, yes, yes. Her father's promise. The promise of an Angel."

Did she dare tell him that she had been there, that she had heard the music meant only for Christine?

"Then how did you come here, little Giry," he demanded, coming up the stone steps to tower over her.

She wanted to turn away, but he held out his hand as if to draw the truth from her soul.

"I was worried about her last night. I saw the opening in the mirror. I followed her, Monsieur…followed you here."

He took another step closer to her and she backed away quickly, stumbling on the coiled lasso and falling onto the divan.

"What did you see, Meg Giry," he snarled, his hands tightening into fists, his breath heavy with anger.

"I watched you….I heard you sing to her," Meg answered in a broken voice, "I saw her faint…I saw you at the organ there…"

"What else did you see," he demanded.

"Nothing, nothing," she sobbed, "When you were at the organ, you turned…I thought you saw me…I ran."

The tense line his shoulders seemed to relax then and he walked away from the divan. She buried her face in the shabby cushions.

What had happened here…what had he done to Christine. This man was dangerous…he was responsible for the accident that drove Carlotta off the stage…there was rage in him…

Shaking, she sat up.

She saw him in profile, the mask hidden from her view. He was at his worktable, holding the half-finished portrait in his hands. His features had softened as he examined his painting.

"Oh, Christine, Christine," he whispered.

In the music of his voice, she heard both a question and a plea.

He laid down the picture and faced her again.

His anger had gone and her courage returned.

"Monsieur, why did you tell me to close my eyes."

He did not answer her, but she saw one hand moved almost involuntarily to touch his mask, black against white…as if to make sure it was really there.

And she knew that when he found her there, his face had been uncovered.

What does that mask conceal…surely not his identity…it covers only half his face…what does he need to hide?