September 16th 1892: Erik
It was an excellent question, yet one I found myself unable to answer. Standing up from my seat I could see what Christine had seen moments before: beggars. Dozens of them, in ragged clothes and with dirty faces, holding the iron gate in a firm grip with the callous fingers and peering inside hungrily, as if they believed they'd find the solution to all their problems there.
This led to a question that was just as important as the first one: What did they want here? Were they after money? Usually beggars didn't come to the doors in such big groups. And why didn't they let us pass? Surely they couldn't expect us to give them money if they kept annoying us, could they?
I had just leaned forwards to discuss the situation with Christine when two anxious little faces reminded me of the fact that we were not alone in the coach. All three persons sitting on the front bench had turned around, and they were all pale.
"Who are those people?" Antoinette asked in a high-pitched voice. I was used to her always speaking first by now. Yet the trembling of her voice was new, and it made me aware of how much the children were affected by the situation.
"They're beggars, ma petite," I explained with a kind smile. "They are poor people who don't have a home to live in or work. So they come to other people's doors to ask them for money or food."
"I've seen beggars at our door," the girl told me. "Usually they are friendly. Those people aren't friendly." She was right. The beggars had a grim expression on their faces, unlike the ones I knew from the streets, who always tried to appear friendly and grateful for the little they had.
I exchanged a glance with Christine and nodded slightly, trying to tell her without words that we needed to talk. She nodded as well and said:
"I'm sure they'll let us pass in a moment, once we've found out what they want. In the meantime Jacqueline will tell you a fairytale, so that you won't grow bored.".
The coach swayed a little as the two women swapped seats. Then Christine sat next to me.
"Do you often give money to beggars?" I wanted to know in a low voice.
"Sometimes," she replied. "But usually they don't come by the dozen… Do you think I have anything to do with it?" She looked at me indignantly.
"No," I hastened to say. "It's just strange. Your house is hardly the richest-looking in the neighbourhood. So why are they standing here of all places?"
"Maybe they want to rob us," she whispered anxiously.
I shook my head.
"That's not very likely," I assured her. "They haven't come any closer yet. If they wanted to, they could easily climb over the gate, but they're just standing there. I don't think they're dangerous."
Her hand was lying on the seat between us, and I tried to pat it reassuringly, only to have it snatched away from me. I gave a little sigh. Just when I had forgotten it for a few moments… Didn't I already have enough problems without that personal one?
I pulled myself together. The subject of how to get the beggars away from the gate was more important than anything else now. The children seemed to have lost some of their fear while listening to the fairytale, but I could still see them moving around in their seats and casting nervous glances at the crowd. When I noticed Philippe's little hand grab Jacqueline's, I knew I had to act immediately. Nobody was allowed to scare my boy.
"I'll go and talk to them," I announced.
Christine looked at me as if I had gone insane.
"You cannot do that," she said. "What if they hurt you?"
"Would you care if they did?" I gave back coldly. Then I left the coach quickly, before she could hold me back. I wasn't sure whether she'd have tried to do so, though.
"Where are you going, Uncle Erik?" Philippe asked as I walked past him.
"I'll try to find out what the beggars want," I answered. "Maybe they're just searching for someone, and I can help them."
"Be careful!" the maid called. I merely nodded. I'd be careful, yes. But sometimes that wasn't enough.
To my surprise, even the butler addressed me.
"It would be most helpful if you could remove those people, Monsieur," he said. "The horse is getting nervous because it's not allowed to move. I don't know for how much longer I'll be able to hold it back."
I noticed he held the reins so tightly in his hands that his knuckles had turned white. He should better wear gloves next time.
"I'll see what I can do," I promised. Passing the mare I patted her neck soothingly. She was indeed nervous, stepping from one hoof onto the other and neighing softly.
So there were five people and one horse relying on me to improve their situation now. It was good that I wasn't one to collapse under pressure. Walking the few steps to the gate as casually as possible I told myself firmly that this was all part of my task. I had to protect the family. That was my only reason for being here.
"Good day, Monsieur," I addressed the beggar who was standing closest to me on the other side of the gate. The man, who was tall and slim and wore a particularly ugly green hat, threw me a glance that reminded me of the way Christine had looked at me when I had told her what I was up to. Apparently he thought that anyone who called him ´Monsieur´ was out of their right mind.
"What do you want?" he hissed. The other people stopped their conversations and eyed us curiously.
"I just want to talk to you," I replied in a friendly voice.
He sneered at me.
"If you want something, come out here and talk to me from man to man," he said. "Don't hide in there like a child."
I only had a moment to decide. There weren't a lot of possibilities anyway. I wanted to talk, so I had to go out there. Otherwise the situation wouldn't change, at least not for the better. The only thing that could happen was that my refusal made the beggars angry, so that they'd begin to throw stones at the coach or something similarly dangerous. No, I didn't have any choice.
So I opened the smaller part of the gate, the one through which only persons could pass, and slipped through it quickly, closing it again before someone else felt like visiting the other side. Then I stood in front of the man who had spoken to me.
"That's better," he commented. "Now how can I help you, Monsieur?" In this moment I knew I had found an almost worthy opponent. His sarcasm was nearly as good as my own.
"You'd help me very much if you and your friends could go somewhere else," I answered. "We want to pass the gate with our coach, but that's impossible as long as you're standing in the way." I felt rather ridiculous, explaining things they already knew very well.
"No," the man said flatly.
"No," some of the beggars echoed, laughing as they formed a circle around us.
"We like it here," one of them called, earning even more laughter.
I started feeling very uncomfortable. So far I hadn't achieved anything. The beggars were still as hostile as at the beginning, if not more.
"Actually this place isn't very nice," I told them, growing a little desperate. "It has all that bright sunlight… Why don't you go and stand somewhere in the shadows of a few trees? That would be far better…" Even while I was speaking, I knew it was in vain.
"Oh, you're worried about us?" the man exclaimed. "How touching!" With surprising speed he closed the space between us and seized me by the collar of my jacket. "Go now!" he snarled. "Go and tell your little friends there will be no lovely coach ride today! We won't go anywhere!" Then he let go of me so abruptly that I staggered slightly.
Fury welled up inside me. My first impulse was to grab my Lasso and show that arrogant man I wouldn't let myself be treated like that. Yet as my hand moved under my cloak, my gaze fell on the coach. We were in full view of the children. What would my little Philippe say if he saw me teach the man a lesson? Besides, I wasn't sure how many of the other people I could fight as well. I was not as young as I had once been.
Taking deep breaths in order to calm down I quickly guessed the man's age. He seemed to be about fifty years old, just right for the plan that was forming in my mind. It wouldn't have worked if he had been much younger.
I lifted my head, so that the brim of my fedora was no longer plunging half of my face into shadows. The mask was shining in the sunlight.
"Does this mask tell you anything about who I am?" I asked him in a low voice. "You've got to think back about ten years…"
He inhaled sharply. It was obvious that he hadn't noticed it before; he had been too busy insulting me. With a certain satisfaction I watched his face grow pale.
"The Opera Ghost," he breathed.
"So you know me," I stated. "Then you also know what I've done with people who stood in my way. I haven't done it in a while, but I could very well start again. And look around you… at the moment you're standing in my way." Waiting for his reaction I heard my name wander through the rows of people, spoken with awe and fear. It was a pleasant feeling.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur," he said. This time his politeness wasn't meant sarcastically. "We would have left right away, but we've been paid for staying here."
"Someone paid you?" I asked incredulously.
Many people in the crowd nodded eagerly.
"Yes," he replied. "A young man came to us in the street and gave each of us five Francs. We should come to this address and block the gate for a couple of hours."
I tried my best not to gape at him open-mouthed. This gave the situation a completely new meaning. It wasn't just a meeting of beggars at a badly-chosen spot. In a way, it was another attack.
"What did the man look like?" I wanted to know, but the answers were disappointing. Not a single person could describe him. They had been far more interested in the money than in the man giving it to them.
"Of course we'll leave now," the beggar assured me hastily.
"No, wait," I said. "Take this." I grabbed my purse and thrust a few banknotes into his hand. "Those are three hundred Francs. If that man ever returns to you and asks you to do something, that'll help you remember where your loyalties are. I want you to come straight here and inform me about it. Oh, and something more personal…" I leaned closer to him. "If you touch me one more time, you'll die a very painful death." He gulped, nodded and went back to the others.
Within minutes the street was empty, and I opened the gate at last.
"Now we can pass," I announced. "I've helped those people, and they left." Quickly I turned around as the children burst into applause. They mustn't see me blush.