Chapt 9
Dinner was completed and since the hour was getting late, Mme Giry excused herself to let the men have their cigars and after-dinner libations. Turning to the butler who escorted her out, "may I have a small glass of port to help me sleep?" Butler bowed and as he arose he smiled and said it will be in her room soon.
The men slowly moved into the smoking room. A walk-in humidor was situated at the far corner of the room and a multitude of books lined the shelves along two of the walls. Rolled leather sofa chairs were situated in the center of the room around a large low table where carafes of liquors and such were placed. Another servant brought in three glasses and set them down on the table. He turned to the Master of the house and Raoul nodded to him, the servant knowing what choice to pour for him. "Would the gentlemen like to choose," extending his hand to the other glass bottles sitting available? "I will have the same as the Vicomte," the Comte answered. "As will I, please," the young Vicomte also answered.
Raoul swirled his beverage around in the glass as the others were served theirs. Then he asked if they would care to venture into the humidor for a cigar or pipe, "I have not smoked in the past year due to it causing me to cough incessantly, but please . . . ," motioning with his arm. "Young Erik stood up and said, "Thank you, I'd at least like to look around in it. I've never seen one in a private home." Young Erik wandered over, opened the heavy wood door where the pleasant aroma wafted into the room, then he was gone from sight.
In the past Raoul was always the impetuous one and Erik would wait and contemplate his next move, so it was now. Raoul made the first break of the silence, "I hope you weren't offended by my offer of the land in America? I deeply feel this is what I must do with the little time I feel I have left on this earth. As you can see, I'm not as spry as you and Mme Giry seem to be." Raoul tried to make light of this last comment by chuckling, which caused him to start coughing. He sipped from his glass then tilted his head back against the cushioned chair to let the soothing liquid trickle down his throat for relief.
This last comment also helped to make Erik's mind up to get what he was thinking off his chest. Now their reconciliation had begun . . . "Would it hurt terribly bad to speak of Christine at this time?"
"Not terribly, maybe I need to hear so I can let go myself. This is a long, long time in coming," Raoul nodded, blinked twice to ward back the emotion of tears trying to come forth.
At that point the door to the humidor opened and out walked Erik. Seeing that his father and cousin were in a deep conversation, and remembering what Mme Giry had whispered earlier to him, he made his excuses to go to his room, "I'm impressed with the varieties of tobaccos and cigars you have from all over the world, cousin, but as the hour is getting late for me I would like to excuse myself from your company if I may." Erik and Raoul turned to look at young Erik and both waved him to take his leave.
As he exited the room and closed the large double doors behind him, he smiled and wondered how long these two grey-hairs would stay awake. Chuckling to himself as he walked up the stairs and past Mme Giry's room, he heard quiet voices talking. He recognized the butler's voice and lightly knocked on the door. "Who is it?", replied Mme Giry. "It's Erik, Aunt Giry. May I come in?" "Oh yes, please do. You may find this conversation quite interesting," Mme Giry eagerly replied.