…
Mme Giry led Raoul down the sinking arch until the temperature spiked down. Her feet refused to go any farther forward.
"This is as far as I dare go," Mme Giry said nervously. If The Phantom found out she led Raoul down there, he would kill her. For telling Raoul how to protect himself, The Phantom would torture her, even if it was for his own good.
"Thank you, Mme Giry," Raoul said. Mme Giry looked down, turned, and walked quickly back up the sinking arch, fighting back tears. Forgive me, Erik.
…
It was just after a performance in the Opera Populaire, and the ballet girls were running off stage from the final bow. All of them were hyped up and chattered away like a pair of false teeth.
The dance instructor, Madame Fehater, did little to calm them. In fact, she lavished them so that it simply made them even more animated.
"Very good girls!" she cawed with a nasal accent, strutting like a peacock through the small, ballet-rat-crowded passage. Antoinette Giry rolled her eyes. She's not even that good a dancer. Who hired Mme Fehater anyway? Antoinette was, naturally, a ballet rat. She was a little more serious about dancing then most of her fellows, though. Her father had sent her to the Opera Populaire to partially to satisfy Antoinette's mother's expectations of her, but mainly to get her out of the house. She had been excited at first, but after being there several years, it had gotten very insipid. Dance, dance, dance, all day long, while not even studying from a good teacher. When the ballet rats would finish dancing, all they would ever really do was talk, drink and hang out with men. Nothing ever happens around this dump.
It was just then Antoinette caught sight of a rather disheveled looking man speaking with Mme Fehater. His light brown hair looked scraggily and bed headed, and he had dark bags beneath his eyes, which were open very wide. He seemed both exhausted and frightened, as if he had been running away from something all night. Antoinette was curious to find out why.
Or was, until Mme Fehater beckoned to her. Antoinette suddenly wanted the man to run away as he had been doing and not bring his troubles to her. Still, she unwilling picked her way through the cloud of buzzing ballet-rats.
"Is something wrong, Monsieur?" Antoinette asked nervously.
"Are you Mademoiselle Giry?" he sputtered quickly. Antoinette nodded. "Then you must come with me. Make haste! Please!" he took Antoinette's wrist and led her out of the theater.
"Monsieur, please, I really must know what this is about," Antoinette begged, "Please, what is going on?" the man shook his head.
"No time. The Persian will explain it later," He said quietly, "Now please, make haste!"
"The Persian? You mean the Daroga?' Antoinette asked in surprise. The Daroga had been friend of her fathers when he still worked in the police force. But I haven't seen Daroga in over five years! The Daroga had started working for the Shah-in-Shah in Mazenderan in 1851, when Antoinette was five. Her father had said that Mazenderan was a foul place filled with gypsies and liars, but Daroga refused to stay in Paris.
"Yes, Daroga, the Persian," He agreed quickly, "Come! There is no time to lose!" They were outside now and speeding over to a small black carriage with skidish looking horses. "Daroga, sir, Mlle Giry is here!"
It had been seven years, and several months, but Antoinette recognized Daroga with his astrakhan cap instantly. His jade eyes were familiar, but seemed to be distracted, as if looking for something he could not see. Normally Antoinette would have been thrilled to see him, but the situation just made her afraid, and seeing Daroga felt the same way didn't help.
"Mlle Giry, take him!" the Daroga cried, "take the monster and hide him so they cannot find him!" Antoinette tried to respond, but was at a loss for words. The daroga jumped out of the carriage and walked over to Antoinette, holding the wrist of boy about her own age wearing a crude half-mask made out of wood. "Please, Mlle Giry, take him and hide the monster, before they find him first!" looking at the boy, Antoinette couldn't say no.
"Al-alright," Antoinette stammered, "but-"
"There is no time for questions!" daroga declared, "just hide him, or they will kill him and us along with it!" And with that, daroga leapt back into the carriage and the driver (the same man who had taken Antoinette to daroga) drove the carriage as fast as it would go.
Almost as soon as they drove off, Antoinette could see a group of soldiers riding on horses gallop down the street, their muskets slung over their backs. They were pointing and shouting, some at the shrinking image of daroga's carriage, other at Antoinette and the boy daroga had given her to take. Antoinette forced herself not to panic.
"Come with me!" Antoinette whispered to the boy, "run!" Antoinette took the boys wrist and began running. She felt him willingly go with her. Find a way to throw the soldiers off. She hadn't a clue where she was going. All she knew is that it away from the soldiers and their muskets. Somewhere safe.
"There it is!" she heard one of the soldiers shout, "Ready? Aim?" before she heard the finish, Antoinette ducked into the Opera Populaire through a window to the lower levels.
Being only a few minutes after a performance, the lower levels were still empty. In just a few minutes, they would be teaming with people. That will slow them down. Antoinette looked around for a new route to take so they wouldn't get caught in the crowd like the soldiers hopefully would.
"Quick," Antoinette whispered to the boy, "To the chapel!" the boy had been listening, but at the same time glancing around, trying to get a lay of the land. In fear, Antoinette let go of his wrist and sprinted into the chapel herself.
Now the boy was lost. It had all happened so quickly. In the distance he heard the Mazenderan scouts thundering down the stairs. He looked around in fear, trying to find where his guide had went.
"Here!" Antoinette whispered, as if reading his mind. The boy looked in the direction of Antoinette's voice. There were two doors. He knew a wrong decision was fatal.
"They went in here!" the echo of a gruff voice filled the passage. He glanced between the two doors.
Then he recognized something- a cross. He knew what a chapel was and what a cross was and knew where chapels were there were crosses, so he ducked in, hoping with all his heart he was right.
Indeed, he was right. Antoinette was waiting for him in the Chapel.
"Come quickly!" she whispered. She heard the thundering of the soldiers flooding the corridor in search of him. "Oh god, where will you be safe from them?"
"How about the cellars?" he offered. Antoinette stared at him- it was the first thing he had said to her, and it was the most intelligible thing she had heard all week.
