Chapter 13

Antoinette still sat on the floor, Christine's head in her lap as Claude and then Erik reached the girls.

"Remerciez Dieu! Oh Papa, we were so frightened!" Erik knelt next to her and gathered Christine into his arms. Claude helped Antoinette to her feet and enveloped her in a fierce hug.

"Monsieur, she is hurt. I tried to help her stop the bleeding but Mon Dieu! There is so much!"

Erik looked down at Christine. Though her dress was of dark material, he could see the wet stains of blood scattered over the front.

"Come." It was the only word Erik could utter as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. His fear for Christine would serve no purpose now.

"We had packs with supplies. They are here somewhere but we had shoved them aside…"

"Find them. Hurry. We must return." Claude and Antoinette moved farther into the back of the tunnel. In just a moment, they returned with both packs. Picking up the other torch, Claude started back the way they had come. Antoinette followed Erik, explaining what had happened to them, as he clutched Christine to his chest.

Erik lay Christine on a makeshift bed and began to unwind the bloody bandage. He had no idea what to expect, but this was not it. Christine had a large wound on her palm and though there was a great amount of blood, the cut was clean and once treated, would heal. But she also had an open wound on the back of her hand and he realized the glass had gone completely through. This was the area that bled so profusely as she had nicked the vein in the back of her hand. Pressure would stop the bleeding but he knew she could lose quite a bit in a short time. She was so still and pale. Pressing the blood-soaked bandage back in place, he tried to stem the bleeding.

"Erik," Claude reached out and put his hand on Erik's shoulder, "she will be all right."

"She has to be, Claude. She just has to be." Tremulously, he reached his free hand to her cheek, lightly stroking it, his eyes never leaving her face.

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The Commander waved his arms wildly as he paced across the room, the official doctor of the agents de police following close behind trying to clean up his wounds. He had sat for two days in the abandoned stable, imagining all of the possibilities should no one find him when one of the local prostituées brought her business into the building. After laughing at the commander for what seemed to him an eternity, she removed his gag. He had sustained several injuries while trying to free himself and fought to keep his temper under control. Once she was convinced of no repercussions pertaining to her trade, she located a gendarme. When freed, he returned to headquarters and had been ranting for the past hour.

"That man – tied me and left me for dead! And he threatened me! ME! Told me if I tried to find him he'd kill me! I am the Commander of the Paris Police and he thinks he can treat me that way and I will not hunt him down? Oh, get away from me, petit ver! I'm fine!"

Still waving his hands about, the Commander threw a slew of epithets at the doctor as the man packed his bag and left. As the doctor reached the door, he turned to the Commander, glared at him and left him with a slur of his own.

"Perhaps Commander, another day or two of rodents and assorted other injuries and you could have saved him the trouble!" The Commander stood aghast as the doctor pushed his way out the door.

"How dare he speak to me like that! Just who does he think he is?"

His officers watched him rage, glad for once they were not the cause, nor on the receiving end of it. They let him go on for several more minutes before one drew up enough courage to speak.

"Um, Commander?" He watched the commander turn on him, but it was too late to stop now.

"We had an unusual visit two days ago, sir."

"Visit? What kind of visit? Who visits here without business to attend to?"

"Sir, two young women came in. One was asking about the men we had in custody. Said something about one of them possibly being her father and the other his friend. They reacted very strangely when told the men had escaped. The dark haired one, Charles thought he recognized her. Turns out she is the opera singer we have been searching for." Before he could utter another word, the commander had turned on him, his eyes on fire.

"Once again, we had that woman in our hands and let her go? Sacre Bleu! What have you got for a brain?" The officer stood his ground this time, making an effort to explain.

"Commander, Charles thought to keep an eye on them. When they left, we followed them to a small inn located in Low Town. We surrounded the inn making sure they had no way to escape. But when we finally broke through the door, a search of the premises proved futile."

"Futile? What do you mean, futile?"

"Well, Commander, they were not there. We did not see them leave, and yet, they were nowhere to be found." The officers watched as the commander sank into the closest chair, his face ablaze with his anger.

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For two days Erik tended to Christine, changing her bandages, singing softly to her, never leaving her side. He instructed Claude on the things he would need and drew a map. Claude was able to find his way out to collect those things needed to make a substance curative for Christine's wound. Antoinette helped Erik as every four hours he removed and replaced the bandages, applying more of his salve. Each time, he saw her wound had diminished. He had mixed a boisson féminin, which he hoped would help to strengthen her. But she remained pale and weak as he tried to get her to sip the mixture and to eat. Bullion, toast, any little bit would help. Scenes of his failure at saving Angelique played constantly through his mind. He neither ate nor slept as he watched her for any sign that she had regained her strength. Twice, Claude came to him offering to sit with her so Erik could sleep. Twice, Erik looked at him with so much pain in his eyes that Claude would simply pat his shoulder and leave. At last, on the morning of the third day, he saw a change in her and thanked a God he was beginning to believe exists. Color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were alert as she gazed at his face.

"Erik, how long has it been? It's difficult to tell with no outside light."

"Three days, Christine. How do you feel? You look better."

"Well, perhaps that is because I realized, if I looked better, you would stop pouring that foul liquid down my throat." Taken aback, it was Erik's turn to pale at Christine's admonishment. But as he watched, her mouth curved into the faintest smile. He thought his heart would stop, she was so beautiful. Moving from his chair to kneel at her bedside, he touched her warm cheek. Gazing into her eyes, he spoke his heart.

"I was afraid that I would lose you. My life would end as well if you were gone. And I want a lifetime with you." For the second time, Erik put his head down on Christine and wept. She lifted her good hand to his head and brushed it against his hair, allowing him all the time in the world.

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The commander had retired to his office for a clean change of uniform and to wash up. He regretted the doctor's leaving after inspecting his injuries. Two or three were quite dirty and he wondered if they would heal properly. As he'd tried to wrench himself free of his bonds, he had turned his face against a beam and badly gouged his cheek on a rusty nail. It would leave a scar, no doubt, but perhaps would add to his air of authority should his plans of rising to commandant dans le chief of all France. What a coup d'état! And he would achieve that. He was certain.

Pictures of his rise to power played through his head as he sat, chair back, feet on his desk, contemplating his next move, when he heard a knock on his door.

"What is it? It had better be good!"

"Commander," came the reply, "someone wishes to speak with you."

"Whoever it is, take care of it yourself. Or are you too inept for that as well?"

"Sir? I think you will wish to take care of this yourself. He is a Vicomte, sir."

Raising his eyebrows at the possibilities this may contain, he rose, glancing in the mirror before making his way to the door.

"Excuse me, Vicomte de Chagny, you now wish us to call off the search?"

"Yes, I do." Raoul looked at the commander, trying to discern the expression his face held.

"We have been looking now for several days. We thought success was within our grasp at one point, but I am confident…" Before he could finish, Raoul interrupted him.

"I spoke with her, three days past. She is… well," he hesitated here, pain once again touching his heart, "and is with the man she…with someone she knows." He stopped speaking, trying to collect himself before continuing. It would not do to let these men see his emotions. He was a Vicomte, after all.

"Well, Vicomte, she was not with a man at all, when she was here, but with another young woman." Raoul saw a look of satisfaction cross the man's face. Here? She was here?

"What reason would she have for being here, Commander? You play games with your information! If she was here, you should have stated that immediately."

"Well, Vicomte, she had come with another woman, as I said. They were asking to see two men we had brought in under suspicious circumstances the day before. The blonde one thought one of the men was her father. But they had come too late."

"Too late? Too late for what, Commander?" Raoul's frustration with the man's hesitation was growing by the moment.

"Yes, well, this is where things are rather hazy for me, Monsieur Vicomte. You see, the men had escaped earlier and as I was…indisposed and unable to speak with them directly, I could not ascertain their true reasons for asking. But I am sure what they stated was not their real purpose."

Two men? Two? What would she be doing looking for two…

"Commander, what did these men look like?"

"One was thin and somewhat on the wiry side. The other was, well, rather intimidating in stature." Raoul watched the commander as he spoke, but could not quite read the man's face.

"But what did they look like? What did their faces look like? Was one wearing a mask? Or scarred in some way?" Raoul's voice became more insistent, rising in volume as he began to grasp who these men had in their jail.

"One man, the wiry one, was quite unremarkable in appearance and the other sir, had a blood-soaked bandage that covered half his face so we did not get a good look at him. Was there something special about these men, Monsieur Vicomte?"

Raoul knew immediately whom they'd had in custody now. Christine would only be looking for one man, and she had asked for his help to free him.

"Commander, the man you had in custody was the man who had attempted to take my life, on two occasions. It was, sir, the Opera Ghost himself!" Raoul watched as the commander's smug expression was replaced with shock.

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Erik remained where he was for some time, Christine continuing to brush her hand over his hair, trying, he knew, to comfort him. Having her with him again, brought more comfort than she could have imagined. Softly and rhythmically she stroked, his tears abating as she did so. Eventually, he realized that her hand had slowed and finally came to rest and he thought she'd fallen asleep again. Gently, he moved away, trying not to wake her, but he was unsuccessful as she stirred under his gaze.

"Mmm, Erik?" Barely a whisper but the sweetest music to his ears, he lifted her hand to his lips.

"What is it, Christine?"

"Erik…I love you, Erik." He pulled the blanket to her chin as she fell asleep. Leaning over her he gently touched his lips to hers, and whispered in her ear.

"And I love you, my Angel."

Some time later Erik felt a presence behind him. Turning, he saw Antoinette. He'd been so engrossed in Christine, he'd not heard her approach, and now realized how tired he was. He saw the question in her eyes as she moved near.

"She's going to be fine, Antoinette. Just fine." He heard her sigh with relief as he turned back to Christine.

"Monsieur Erik, you need some rest. I am not here to ask, I'm here to tell you – Go, get something to eat and some rest." She spoke almost as a mother would to a child. "I will stay with her. You will be no good to her if you drop from exhaustion yourself." Erik gave her a wry smile.

"You have never held back your tongue with me, have you, Antoinette?" She gave him a brilliant smile in return.

"Non, Monsieur, and you would expect nothing less. Now go." Walking to him, she pulled him from the chair and placed her hand on his arm.

"I will see to her, not to worry. Please - Erik, go." The compassion in her eyes brought a lump to his throat. Afraid his emotions would spill over again, he nodded curtly and left.

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"The Opera Ghost - the Phantom, Vicomte? How would you know who it was?" The commander had regained his composure and looked at Raoul in disbelief. "The Opera Ghost surely fled the city days ago."

"Trust me, Commander. There is no doubt in my mind as to his identity, none at all. As to the other man, I cannot say." He remembered the girl who had delivered the note and wondered if he was her father. The officer who spoke with her gave him a verbal picture of the blonde. She fit the description of the girl who had accompanied Christine to headquarters. How Christine had come to know her, he had no idea. He was more concerned with the fact that the police had held the Phantom in the palm of their hand and had let him slip through their fingers.

"But this monster that you called a man, tried on two occasions to kill me, and has the woman I love under his spell. You cannot ignore that he must be recaptured. We must do something to find him."

"We, Vicomte? Non, my men will find him and bring him in once again. Have no fear. However, Monsieur, there is something you can do for me, once I have brought this…Phantom, to justice."

Raoul saw the calculating look in the commander's eyes and wondered what the man expected in return for the justice that should rightfully be served.

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Evening came and with it, a growing unease in Erik's heart. Christine felt well enough to sit at a makeshift table and they ate in an uncomfortable silence. Claude and Antoinette tossed furtive glances Erik's way, and he knew they were looking to him for their next move. Only Christine looked calm, though weak, as she sipped her broth and ate small pieces of the bread Antoinette had set before her earlier. Taking a deep breath, he decided now was as good as ever to put their options on the table.

"I've done quite a bit of thinking as to what we need to do." He watched as three pairs of eyes rested on his face. Still cringing inside at times at any attention he received, he put the old fears aside and continued. "Of course, we need to leave the city and the sooner, the better. The only problem with that is, though Claude has been fortunate so far, there's no telling when he might be recognized by any of the officers patrolling the streets. So, securing another carriage is out of the question, I cannot go out, and I don't want either of you two going." His gaze touched first on Antoinette, then Christine. "I also cannot imagine the commander heeding my warning, considering his overblown ego and greedy nature. So…" He left his thought there, allowing things to sink slowly into the others. All three looked back at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. When he did not, Claude broke the ice.

"Erik, surely you can devise something. You are much too smart to not have figured out a solution."

"I am, am I, Claude? I have only ever had myself to worry about. If that were still the case, I would have been long away by now. But it's not. I have you, and Antoinette." His eyes softened as he took in Christine. "And Christine, who truly is still too weak to travel, to consider as well." Turning to Christine, his emotions once again overwhelmed him at the thought that she loved him. "In my estimation, we will need to wait at least two more days for you to regain enough strength." Reaching out, he brushed the fingers of her bandaged hand. Claude and Antoinette looked on, warm understanding in their eyes.

"I will not risk your life again. So, we wait. Perhaps in the next few days, something will materialize that will make our escape possible." Shaking his head, he noticed a knowing look pass between Antoinette and Christine bringing a smile to both their faces.

"Did I say something entertaining?"

"No, Erik, you did not. But Antoinette and I might have part of the solution to our problem."