Notes: A special thank you to Moonjava, Cherie, Forensic Photographer711, Mominator 124, and jessie-ashley for your great reviews! You all are sweet. Thanks too to tink8812 for all the info. on Pres. Grant. I have been doing extensive research on this time period and re-reading Grant's autobiography. Research is hampered because I don't have internet at my house. I go to Phangirl's house and hijack her computer instead! (Luv ya for that, Sis!) And yes, Erik will be heading south later on and will get to see the ugly side of Reconstruction. Lots more research going on for that part, so the writing doesn't get done as quickly. But stay tuned, we will get there!

Into The Light

Erik opened his eyes to see the darkening blue of that patch of sky. He had fallen asleep and evening was coming on. He felt a presence nearby and turned to his head to see the little angel girl. She sat in a puff of red and white skits on the grass, her wide blue eyes patiently watching him.. She had her lower lip tucked between her tiny white teeth, and a question on her face, but she remained silent.

He knew the mask intrigued her, but why she did not question him about it was puzzling.

"You gonna come eat thupper, Mithter Erik?"

Surprised that she knew his name, Erik pushed up into a sitting position. "How do you know my name, Child?"

"I heard Mith Katie call you that name." She frowned fiercely at him. "You thouldn't a yelled at Mith Katie. Thee theth we thouldn't fight and yell at each other."

Feeling properly chastened, Erik asked her how he knew of his disagreement with Miss Katie.

Her face fell guiltily. "I followed Mith Katie and hid in the butheth."

Erik felt as if he should reprimand her, but instead had to fight the laughter that bubbled in his throat. It would not do to let her think it was amusing to spy on people.

"Did Miss Katie send you out here to see if I wanted to eat?"

"No," She said quietly, looking down at her fingers as she creased her skirt. "I juth thoughted you might want to eat with uth." She looked at him with large imploring eyes. "Ain't you lonely, Mithter Erik?"

A smile tickled at his lips, while unfamiliar emotions tugged at his heart. "Yes, I am Cherie," He whispered, tracing a finger along the curve of her silky jaw.

She jumped to her feet, tugging mightily at his arm as she went. "Come on then! We gotta tell Mith Maloney to get another plate for you!"

All his defenses clawed at him to stay in the little house. He didn't feel ready to go into this new life just yet, but he argued with himself that he had to go or he might never get his courage up again. He had said he would teach the children, and he would have to meet them sometime soon.

Mrs. Maloney was quite thrown by his unusual appearance, but his courtly bow and genteel manners soon had the good woman charmed.

When the man and girl reached the dining room door, the children were noisily passing platters and bowls around the long table. Kathleen stopped in the middle of pouring milk into glasses on the table, her mouth shaped in a small O of surprise. The children suddenly stopped as if frozen by a winter blast, all eyes focused on Erik's face.

Kathleen put the pitcher down, and seeing Erik's discomfort, told the children to continue passing the food around the table. She had told them of their new teacher and his unusual face, and warned them not to stare, but curiosity had gained the upper hand. They did manage to pass the food without serious incident though.

Kathleen sat Erik down at one end of the table while she took the other. Mrs. Maloney bustled in with a plate for Erik, and he proceeded to fill it, though he didn't know if a bite could pass the tight knot in his throat. Young eyes repeatedly darted from their plates to his face until Kathleen sternly insisted that the children eat.

The only sound in the elegant room after that was the scrape and clatter of silver on china. Kathleen couldn't help but let her own gaze move often to Erik. His face seemed to have a ruddy cast, despite his darkening skin tone. Kathleen tried to ease the tension by introducing each of the children by name.

When the children finished their meal, Kathleen sent some of them to work on unfinished lessons and some to their duties, clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen.

Erik and Kathleen lingered at the table over cups of coffee. Erik was relieved that the eyes of the children were at last off of him.

"They respond marvelously to your instructions when you are around," Erik commented dryly. The quirk of his eyebrow told Kathleen that he was teasing.

"Yes, they respond quite well most of the time." Kathleen smiled and set her coffee cup down.

Pricilla came and stood at Erik's elbow, and seeing that his cup was empty solemnly removed it from the table and made off for the kitchen.

"You've made a conquest, Erik," Kathleen chuckled. "Since Pricilla found you in my room she has been quite taken with you."

Erik watched the blonde girl remove Kathleen's cup and saucer to the kitchen before answering, "I asked the little miss if you had sent for me to come to dinner. She replied that you hadn't." A smile actually reached his eyes, even though his lips only hinted at amusement. "She followed you and hid in the bushes. She heard our disagreement and quite fiercely reprimanded me for yelling and fighting with you."

"That's our Pricilla," Kathleen said with an unladylike snort. She then covered her mouth as a fit of giggles overtook her. Her silver-blue eyes glistened merrily in the candle-light. Her mature attributes and the joy of her laughter sent a shiver of attraction through Erik. He tamped the sudden feeling down by changing the subject. He had come to think of woman in any form as dangerous territory. After all, he had fallen into Christine's trap when she was still but a child.

"How did you come to have such a house as this for your orphanage?"

"Come, I'll give you a tour." She rose from her chair. He followed her to the parlor where a portrait of a distinguished gentleman and an attractive young woman hung over the mantle. Erik also noticed a fine piano in the room, just waiting for him.

"This is Mr. Samuel Price and his wife, Amelia," Kathleen said, drawing his attention back to the portrait. "Amelia died in childbirth when their only son Sam, Jr. was born. Mr. Price and his son lived here until Sam Jr. went of to fight in the Union Army in 1861. He was killed in 1863 at a place called Gettysburg in Pennsylvania, leaving Mr. Price with no other family. He died in 1867."

She indicated a sepia-toned daguerreotype on the mantle below the portrait of the Prices. It showed a handsome, confident young man in a military uniform. "This is Sam Jr. before he went off to fight."

A saber lay in front of the picture, and Erik took a keen interest in it, for he had a liking for fine blades, and this one appeared to be custom made, judging by the intricate etching on the scabbard. He had an insatiable urge to test the heft and balance of the blade.

"This war young Price fought in…" He frowned trying to think of what country America could have been at war with just a few short years ago, but found his knowledge of the world terribly lacking. "What country was America at war with?"

Kathleen's dark brows rose in astonishment. Where had this man been to be so out of touch? She was sure France, or most any country in Europe surely would have mentioned America's war in its newspapers.

"America was at war with itself," She sighed. "Several states no longer wished to be a part of the Union and seceded. The Northern states went to war with these seceded Southern states to bring them back into the Union."

"How intriguing," Erik said, picking up the saber.

"How terrible is more the truth," Kathleen said sadly, running a finger over young Price's picture. "That war set fathers against sons, brothers against brothers, and friends against friends. I wonder if this nation will ever heal from it." She turned away from the picture, but Erik looked at the handsome face in the frame once more and wondered if Kathleen had loved the man.

But she was already moving on with the tour. She showed him the library and its hundreds of handsomely-bound books. He would enjoy reading from those volumes since he was so far behind in his learning of the world, as his questions to Kathleen attested. If he was going to live in a new country, he needed to learn more about its history.

The tour concluded in the ballroom, which Kathleen explained was now used as the schoolroom for the children. The elegance of the walls and ceiling of the room reminded Erik of the gilded opulence of the Opera Populaire.

"A beautiful room for learning," Erik said. "The large windows let in much light."

Kathleen smiled, turning in a graceful circle. "I used to peek in those windows when I was just a girl, when Mr. Price would host a ball." She closed her eyes, remembering. "The handsome gentlemen whirling the pretty ladies around the floor in their lovely gowns, their jewels sparkling in the candlelight…the beautiful music…" She turned again, her arms extended around an invisible partner as she waltzed. "I could hardly stand still."

As Erik watched her dance, he saw again the painful image of Raoul and Christine dancing at the bal masque, but he pushed it aside, saying, "You lived here as a child?"

Kathleen stopped suddenly and tidied an already neat student's desk, her cheeks bright pink. "My mother worked for Mr. Price," She said. "He saw to it that I was educated by the same tutor Sam Jr. had."

Erik followed as she walked toward the wide double doors that led back to the hall. "In his will, Mr. Price stipulated that I run the orphanage if I was willing."

"And you were," Erik stated with growing admiration.

"And I enjoy the challenge," Kathleen said, extinguishing the gas lights before closing the doors behind them.

Erik couldn't help but wonder if she would add a husband and children of her own to the challenge, or if she would devote her life just to the orphans.

"I am fortunate to have two fine young women to help with the children in the dorm rooms," Kathleen sighed. "Miss Fitch has been staying with her mother who has been very ill for the past few weeks, and I've missed her immensely."

"So, you have been carrying her responsibilities as well as taking care of me?" Erik asked.

"Yes." Kathleen smiled ruefully. "But the children help out very well, and bless Mrs. Maloney, she is a wonderful help."

Erik took in the fine furnishings of the rooms as they made their way to the kitchen. The way the house was kept in such good order with eighteen active children there was a feat in itself. He also noticed the rooms weren't overly cluttered with needless fripperies. Kathleen was indeed a very capable headmistress.

Before leaving the house, Erik stopped in the doorway. His eyes and expression were serious when he spoke. "Thank you, Kathleen, for giving me this opportunity. No one has cared enough before to do such a thing." He gave a slight bow and left the house.

Kathleen watched him go, her thoughts going with him. You have come too far not to give you a chance, Erik. But Kathleen Maureen Flannery, you have only known this man for a few short weeks…not long enough to be mooning over him. And don't be letting him see it! He's still in love with someone else.

As she climbed the stairs, Kathleen stiffened her spine and her resolve. Erik clearly was not for her.

Glorious music played as handsome men in black evening dress waltzed laughing ladies in satin gowns and glittering gemstones across the ballroom floor.

Erik's partner had her head turned, taking in the happy couples around them as they danced close together. She turned back to him, brown eyes sparkling, rose red lips smiling radiantly, telling him that she was glad to be in his arms. It was Christine in her rose pink gown!

As they turned by a gilded mirror, red flashed back at him—his Red Death costume. Christine suddenly staggered, and Erik realized that his trailing cape had twined around her feet and legs. She began to struggle, but the more they danced, the more entangled she became.

A voice rose over the music—Raoul calling to Christine, begging her to return to him.

Glass tinkled loudly above them and all eyes turned upward. A mammoth crystal chandelier swayed and began a violent descent toward the crowded dance floor. People screamed in panic. Christine stumbled from Erik's grasp. The chandelier landed with a roar, burying her under hot glittering glass.

"Christine! Christine!" Raoul cried over and over…

Erik jerked upright in bed. "Christine!" He yelled, his breath coming in short tortured gasps. With shaking hands, he scraped back his thin, damp hair from his equally damp face. Sweat stuck his nightshirt to his body.

He bolted from bed, his stomach reeling, and stumbled out the back door of the cottage onto the tiny porch. He leaned over the railing in case he had to vomit, and pulled in deep breaths of cool night air until his stomach and his racing heart settled down.

"Why can't I forget her?" He grated through clenched teeth. "She belongs to that damned fop Raoul now, out of my reach, and out of my life forever!"

Erik glared up at the night sky. A few timid stars winked hazily back at him. "Is this more of Your punishment?" He rasped brokenly to whoever would listen up there. "I gave her up! I am trying to make up for my sins, since You haven't seen fit to kill me!"

He dropped wearily to the porch step, hands around the back of his neck, forehead on his knees, and gave in to frustrated tears.