The entire Opera House was frantically searching for its lost Prima Donna, who had been missing for several hours. Mme Courvier had indeed staggered to the managers as fast as she could after the ether wore off. Though Mme Giry would normally have been the first to receive such news, she and Meg were actually the last. The news of Mme Courvier's attack, and Christine's disappearance did not reach them until the managers came in search of them. Immediately after Faust ended, Raoul cornered both women and begged them to talk with him "in private." His eyes were anxious and his expression was one of irritable excitement. The dedication had clearly unnerved him.
Being females, both Giry ladies were partial to the younger DeChagny. Though the original intention was to go congratulate Christine, Raoul's anxious plea and handsome face distracted them. After all, thought Meg, I see Christine every day, and she will be surrounded by admirers right now. She probably wouldn't even be able to see me over the throng. She grinned at her mother behind Raoul's back. They retired to one of the small practice rooms with him, where he proceeded to make small talk.
"The weather really has been unseasonably warm, don't you think?" he asked, looking intently at the small spinet piano and tapping his fingers on the sound proofing panel.
"What are you so nervous about, child?" Mme Giry.
"Hmmm? Me? I'm not nervous. It's just unseasonably warm." He stopped his tapping, only to begin fingering his pocket watch. "Wasn't Christine an absolute angel tonight? I don't think the anyone in the audience breathed the whole time she sang. Marvelous. She was absolutely marvelous."
Meg looked at her mother, one eyebrow raised. Mme Giry shrugged in response, but kept the movement small.
"Yes, she was. Christine has the most beautiful voice I've ever heard in all my years at this opera house." Mme Giry said, hoping the boy would eventually come around to his point.
"She must practice all the time. She must be very dedicated. To her music, you know. She must be entirely dedicated to her music."
Meg smiled proudly. "Christine is very talented, Monsieur. She is dedicated to her music, but there are many other things she likes to do."
"Like what?"
"Oh, she studies. And she likes to walk about the grounds. She enjoys visiting with her friends. And…and…" For the life of her, Meg couldn't think of "many" things Christine really liked to do aside from sing and study.
Raoul fervently hoped that he was among the "friends" Meg referred to. "Does she like to cook? To go shopping?"
It was Mme Giry's turn to step in. It was nice that Meg was trying to present her friend in the best possible light, but there were some truths a man should know about the woman he was courting. "No, Monsieur. She does not like to cook or shop. She knows very little about the niceties of domestic life, having lived her life in the gracious halls of your Opera Populaire. I believe the dear child barely remembers her own mother."
Raoul considered this for a moment. As the wife of a DeChagny, Christine would never have to cook, but how could a woman not be interested in shopping? "Well, that's certainly unusual."
The three stared at one another; two waiting for the one to finally get around to asking whatever it was he dragged them into the cramped practice room about. Meg was brave enough to tap her foot. Raoul cleared his throat and tried to approach the subject delicately.
"It was also very unusual that she did not dedicate her performance to her dear father, was it not?" Raoul desperately tried to sound nonchalant, but failed. The Giry ladies' eyebrows rose. Mme Giry began to think about the mounds of work waiting for her.
"What is it you want to know, Monsieur DeChagny? I'm sure your brother would prefer that I be out taking care of my duties than standing in a small room making tea-room talk."
"Who is this 'Erik'?" he blurted. His unspoken questions hung in the air. Did Christine love another man? Had she played him false?
So that was it. The young man was trying to decide whether he should be jealous or hurt. Mme Giry patted his arm.
"We believe that it is her music teacher. If it is, you have nothing to worry about. Many divas dedicate their performances to their voice coaches, their conductors…I even heard one young woman dedicate her performance to Mozart. Can you imagine?" She kept her voice light and unconcerned.
"Have you ever seen him? Is he young? Is he handsome?" he looked imploringly at Meg, whose face was coloring deeper and deeper reds as he spoke.
"No…no one has! She says not even she has…" but Meg bit her lip and looked to the fireplace. Mme Giry knew her daughter was lying. Had Christine seen the Opera Ghost?
"She says it, but you don't believe her? How can one take lessons from an invisible teacher? I saw that look, Mademoiselle. Is she having…a secret affair…with him?"
The idea horrified both women. The Opera Ghost was no one a young lady would have an affair with! Raoul took their expressions to mean he had gone too far. It was not, after all, very polite to insinuate that a young woman might be trysting with men. If he angered these two, he would lose his only source of reliable information. He clumsily struggled to salvage his mistake.
"I...I don't mean to say that she ever would, of course. Christine is such a good girl…always proper. It's…it's only that…that….I love her! I love her, and love does strange things to a man's mind. Women have such delicate sensibilities, and wouldn't understand, of course…but I'm simply mad about her. So, please, ladies…if she has fallen for another, do not let my poor heart be the victim…"
The Giry ladies looked at one another. The young man really did seem to be a little hors d'esprit. He had been courting Christine for nearly four months now, which was reportedly the longest he had ever shown interest in anything, woman or hobby. Meg took pity on him.
"No, monsieur. I can truthfully say that Christine is not having an affair with anyone. She has told me of her teacher. He is an exacting, harsh man who has driven her relentlessly for years. I have no doubt that she dedicated her performance to him to appease him."
Raoul sat back and breathed deeply, satisfied that his Christine was not making a fool of him. He was determined to find out more about this music teacher, though. Who was he, and why did he think he had the right to drive a defenseless young woman so hard? Christine would thank him for delivering her from the man. He would be her hero! She would marry him, and he would carry her off to her happily ever after in his luxurious mansion.
As he mused over these pleasant fantasies, an urgent knock shook the door. "Mme Giry? Mme Giry! Are you in there? Do open the door, Madame! There is an emergency!"
Recognizing the nasal voice of M. Debienne, Mme Giry was across the room before he could finish his appeal. He was preparing to knock again when she opened the door. He thrust his reddened face into the room, peering around. "She not with you! Oh dear, oh dear. We all thought she'd be with you, wherever you were. And she's not…."
"Who isn't with us, Monsieur?" queried Mme Giry.
"Christine." Raoul and Meg snapped their heads up, suddenly interested. "No one has seen hide nor hair of the girl since she left the stage. Mme Courvier was attacked…"
"Attacked!" all three spoke at once.
"Yes! Yes! Someone chloroformed her in Christine's dressing room…"
Raoul had the man by his lapels. "Tear this place apart! I want her found. Now! Did Courvier see anyone?" he rushed from the room, followed by M. Debienne, who attempted to smooth his ruffled evening attire as he ran.
The Girys stayed behind, staring nervously at each other. When the two men were out of earshot, they both began speaking at once.
"Mother, there is a secret I have been keeping…" began Meg, just as her mother said, "I must tell you about Christine's Angel…"
Being the elder, Mme Giry cleared her throat. "Christine's Angel is none other than the…"
"Phantom of the Opera! I know, maman! She has met him, in the flesh. She says he's a real man, and no Ghost." Meg spilled everything she knew. Her adored maman could be trusted; she forgot why she hadn't told her mother these things before.
"She has met him? And says he's a man. How shocking!" Mme Giry had believed in the Opera Ghost's supernatural nature for years. It was as much a part of her personal mythology as the saints and the Mother Mary. Now that his reality was confirmed by a sighting, his existence seemed more menacing. "Whether he's a man or a ghost, he is dangerous. He killed Thomas. He poisoned La Carlotta. I'm not saying I wouldn't have done it myself, were I that clever. But the truth is that he is a dangerous man, capable of dangerous things, and…"
"Before we do anything else, we should at least check her room. You have the only other key, maman. No one has actually gone into her room. What if she is sitting there in her father's chair, in one of her daydreams, staring at her father's violin? She does that, you know, and when she gets that way it is almost impossible to rouse her. They might have knocked, and she might have ignored them." Meg sincerely hoped this was the case. If the Phantom of the Opera had her friend, it was likely a lost cause.
Mother and daughter walked down the halls, arm-in-arm for support. When they came to the door, Mme Giry pulled her enormous key-ring from her belt and unlocked the door. Hopefully, the two women peeked into the apartment.
