164 Contemplations

"What is it child?"

Christine rose, nearly dropping her cup of tea. Christine did not know. An icy shiver ran up her spine. Something was wrong, she knew it. She closed her eyes trying to purge it from her mind. "It is nothing Madame, a chill, nothing more."

The woman nodded, sighing as she put her cup in its saucer and sat it on the table. "It is likely that very long ride you took, the chill of the night air." She said as she walked passed Christine. "I best be getting back to it, then it shall be finished for him when he returns."

Christine nodded, as she followed the woman back to he work room. Perhaps she would retire to her room once more. If she'd have another dream, perhaps it would be best that she were alone.

XXXXX

Meg sat with the doctor in her room. "Pray do tell me, did you hear that? That shot?" Meg said, looking rather concerned at the doctor.

"Yes," he said, trying to conceal his nervousness. He'd thought it odd unless the men that had left an hour before had returned and brought with them more wolves, or had chased Crawlings back to the property. "No doubt it is more wolves, returned to find those missing from their pack. If you do not mind, I shall go to check."

"Here," he said handing her a cloth soaked in alcohol. "Hold this over the area that is bleeding. It should stop soon my dear, do not worry, it is perfectly normal. You did very well." He smiled at Meg as he laid a light reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I shall be but a moment my dear." The doctor rose to go from the room. "Would you like me to send Madeline up with a fresh pot of tea?" He said, glancing over his shoulder as he reached the door. He turned to look at Meg who was yawning, covering her lips as a polite young lady would.

"No, I rather think I'm finished for the night. I'll rest until you return." She smiled sweetly at the doctor. He smiled at her in return. No doubt the pain killers had taken hold. Meg would be most comfortable for several hours, which might very well be a blessing if the gun shot had been anything more than a warning.

XXXXX

Nadir was carefully helping to carry Raoul into the house. His eyes wide with wonder. Raoul lay as limp and lifeless in their arms as a dead man, though Nadir could see no evidence of blood nor entry wound. It was not until they were inside the house that Nadir heard Raoul speak. He was disoriented, but conscious.

"Raoul?" Nadir said, a glimmer of hope in his eye. Deep inside Nadir's heart ached. If the boy had returned where was Erik? Had he been felled somewhere in the countryside between Raoul's house and Paris? Nadir's heart began to race. The mere thought of it made him nearly blind with rage.

"Nadir?" He leaned down listening to Raoul speak. "I was not struck sir, though I do think I may have hit my head on something when I threw myself to the ground."

Nadir breathed a sigh of relief….Raoul had not been shot. But what of the shot that was heard? Nadir helped Raoul to the divan in the library. He was mumbling about seeing a black cape, and what he was certain was someone none had seen in months. Raoul had ordered everyone else from the room, save the doctor who was just arrived, and Nadir.

"I saw him, I'm most certain it was him." Sweat beaded heavily on Raoul's brow, he having released the tails of his cravat.

"Saw who Raoul?" Nadir said, going to the table to fetch Raoul a brandy.

"The black cloak….perhaps it was my imagination, but before I heard the gunshot, I would be wiling to wager my good name on it, I believe it was the…" Raoul paused, a moment of temporary hate and rage rising within him, "the Phantom". Raoul began to shake his head back and forth. It was utter folly, for it would not, could not simply be.

The doctor came along Raoul, leading him back to a chair. "You've struck the back of your head, there is a small gash, I can see the blood matting in your hair, sit let me tend to it."

Raoul could not protest, in truth he had felt something warm running the length of his neck and back, but it had not been his primary concern. He did feel a bit light headed, easily acquiescing to the doctor's commands.

Nadir walked to the window, pushing the curtain aside. There were guards posted on the veranda, in the yard, and still more men swirled around all sides of the carriage house, torches held above their heads. Some had not even dressed, but merely thrown cloak over night clothes. Every manner of male employee was out on the grounds searching. Nadir let the curtain drop again from his hand. Whatever had transpired out in that yard, if Raoul's eyes had not deceived him, surely Erik was there, and no doubt dealing swiftly with the boy even now. Nadir could do no more. Erik had told him he would contact him, and Nadir would wait. He turned round, returning to Raoul.

"Raoul, what of the shot then, did it come in your direction, narrowly missing you?"

Raoul's head was bent over, his chin nearly touching his chest as the doctor parted his hair, cleaning the wound. "In truth I do not know. I heard the click of the gun before I even heard the shot. Something had felt odd about the air, so I was keenly aware of all sounds…..it…I….if….."

"Shhh…be still now Raoul. This I'm afraid, will require a few stitches." He looked at Nadir. "Stay with him whilst I retrieve my kit. I have hope that Meg will have fallen asleep so that I might do so without her knowledge. If I shan't it might be a moment or two. Do see that he keeps his head bowed just as it is now." The doctor nodded at Nadir and then departed.

Nadir's thoughts raced. There had to be a way to persuade Raoul that he hadn't seen that which he believed he had. For if he believed, nay, feared the Phantom had returned, all manner of problems would rise. Not only for his sake, but for those in his household. No, he must convince Raoul he was quite mistaken. But what methods to employ to elicit such change of mind, he wasn't certain.

Walking over, he put his hand on Raoul's shoulder. "You have suffered a great deal Raoul, a great deal these last months. Perhaps more than a great many other men. It is no doubt that such things shall have a way of rearing their heads from time to time. You must have been mistaken. It was likely the boy himself, black cloaks are so very common sir."

Raoul was shaking his head. "I shan't think so, it was much taller, the stance, the repose, I am quite certain…"

The door burst open, the carriage master coming in quickly closing the door behind him. "It is good to see you well Vicomte. I wanted to deliver to you the good news, we've found the boy, and it seems you've a much better aim than you'd thought, for you delivered a killing blow." The man paused. "It is with deep gratitude that we honor you sir. Surely all of Paris will rejoice at your triumph in having sluiced this scourge of society from the city. Well done Vicomte, well done!"

Raoul was raising his hand in protest, shaking his head, "no, no, you do not understand…"

Nadir interrupted. "Do forgive the Vicomte, he is not yet himself. It seems that the force of the gun knocked him unexpectedly to the ground, causing him to gash his head. He perhaps cannot recall just now the events. I pray you give him time to recover. Perhaps in the morning he can address the men. For now do convey to them his deep appreciation."

The Carriage master looked at Raoul quite confused, but upon further inspection saw the blood rising from the back of his down-turned head. "My apologies Vicomte, sir. I shall do as you asked." He looked at Nadir, concern in his eyes, "do let the Vicomte know that his household will rest well in the knowledge that his courage allows them to rest safely from this lecherous boy."

Nadir nodded. "Be assured that I shall." The two nodded once more and the carriage master departed. Nadir sighed. Crawlings was dead. He closed his eyes, a sadness filled him for the death of the boy…but he was in truth relieved. He returned his attention to Raoul.

"Nadir, I did not even draw my weapon, I am quite certain that…"

Nadir was stroking his chin. "Perhaps the blow to your head has made it difficult to recall. You were the only one in the yard Raoul, the only one who could have defended your household as all others, including myself were in the carriage house, having just returned. I can attest to the fact that none of your staff were outside when the shot was heard. Since you were the only one there, and the boy is quite dead Raoul, it is assured that you must have done so, but the subsequent blow to your head has…"

Raoul was shaking his head, "no, I remember it quite clearly, I was shielding my eyes when I heard the click of the gun, and as I flung myself to the ground, I saw the cape fluttering off by the carriage house, and then I heard the shot…I shan't be able to recall what events transpired then."

Nadir was resting his hands on Raoul's shoulders, encouraging him to keep his head lowered as the doctor had instructed. Yes this turn of events might indeed be auspicious. His mind was torn. Nadir smiled, though his brow furrowed.

If Raoul had not drawn his weapon, and he had seen Erik, then Erik had made a choice.

Nadir knew that would likely not have been an easy one. Erik loathed Raoul, would just as well have seen him dead himself for all he had done trying to separate him from Christine. Why then had he not simply let the boy do what he'd come for? Surely Erik would have seen the opportunity in it. He then could have taken the boy down and none would have been the wiser. Surely wherever Erik now found himself, he was wrestling with that very thought.

Nadir breathed a sigh of relief. His hand resting on Raoul's shoulder, though his mind was on Erik. It was an odd set of events…and if his suspicions one day proved to be true…well…he could only imagine what it would mean.

Perhaps something in Erik had truly started to change. That which the old Erik would have done without thought, allowing Raoul to die at the hands of another, the new Erik simply could not. Was it because he'd finally forgiven Raoul? He thought not. Was it that even though it would keep them parted, he thought of Meg's happiness? Perhaps. Did he now think Raoul to be an appropriate suitor for Meg? He knew not. Whatever had prompted Erik to fell the boy, thereby protecting Raoul, it was a split second decision, one he shall have to reconcile in his own mind and heart. For surely it would have made life much less complicated if Raoul had died and all had returned home…yes, much less complicated. Sometimes, however unfortunate, these things happen during war. And Raoul and Erik…had most decidedly been at war…a war over the very woman Erik now held as his wife.

XXXXXXXX

Erik rubbed his hand across his now swollen eyes. He'd cried until the well of tears no longer had supply. The clouds had cleared, giving way to the most breathtaking star-filled night sky. His breath rising in frosty wisps rising to muddle with the crisp air. He stood, feeling weakened in spirit as well as body. His soul felt as bare and as vulnerable as it ever had in his life. A mix of emotions coursed through him, so tightly interwoven it was impossible to tell which commanded the lion's share of his mind. Part of him was angry. Angry he'd allowed his emotions to well to the point he could not control them. Part of him was relieved. Relieved that it was over. The boy had harmed no one more. Part of his mind was resolute; he'd kept his promise to Nadir. Part of his mind was in disbelief. Had he truly put Meg's happiness in front of his own selfish needs? Only Christine had ever been given the privilege of his altruism.

All others in his life had associations of mutual benefit. Nadir at first fit a need. That in time grew to much more, but in the beginning it had not been so. Madame Giry, and later Meg…they too had served a purpose. He'd a special place in his heart for Madame Giry, she having rescued him from a certain fate at the hands of the gypsies. And Meg, yes, he'd cared for her as an extension of his relationship with her mother. Only Christine had ever been given utterly selfless love.

Why now? When he could have had everything that suited his purposes delivered to him at the hand of another…why had he.. Erik shook his head. Clenching his jaw, wringing his hands, his pacing resuming.

There was something in Raoul's eyes. In that split second when he'd raised his weapon, his mind hesitating as he saw the boy draw his and aim it at Raoul, his heart had made a decision. There was something that Erik saw in Raoul…and in that split second…Erik gasped…he'd…. Erik shook his head, lowering and closing his eyes….he'd defended him! Erik's pace quickened, his breathing becoming labored as if he had a punctured lung. The very man who'd had him at the tip of his sword not months before. The man who'd attempted to set a trap with armed guards the night of Don Juan. The man who'd pursued him right into his lair….The man who'd proposed marriage to Christine….Erik twitched, a sickening shrill creeping up his spine. What it had been? He paced back and forth in front of the horse, pausing to look up into the heavens as if they would produce the answer. He sighed. Opening his eyes fully…exhaling…he knew what it had been. It was the look in Raoul's eye. It was a feeling, a gut instinct… He paced no more. Standing still in the chill of the night air, in the safety of this haven, he realized what he'd done. He'd made his decision. In that moment he'd sealed his fate. He and Christine would be parted from Madame Giry and Meg. And Nadir…that would be Nadir's choice.

Erik sighed. He'd have to put it out of his mind now. Perhaps he would one day be able to sort it out in his mind. Tonight, he was tired. Not having slept for seemingly days. He reclined on the bench, staring blankly into the sky. He'd no need to go back to be certain the boy was dead. Erik knew his own skills well enough to know he'd succeeded. No one had pursued him into the woods. No, it was finished…at least this part. Understanding it….accepting it…that would no doubt come with time.

Erik sat up, looking over at the horse. The beast had but a little more than an hour's rest, and Erik would now call upon it to carry him once more to Paris. He'd make his way back to Christine's arms. Back to what he was certain of. That he'd no greater love in this world than that woman, and all that she bore within her.

XXXXX

The young man was closing the door, "thank you for delivering this to me, good night."

He'd been sitting up for several hours, awaiting the arrival of the note she'd promised to deliver to him. He knew it would be sealed, but at least now, with it in hand, he could plan to make his travels in the morning.

He'd several other errands to attend to, including stopping at the undertaker to be certain that funds indeed had been provided for the woman's burial. He'd also stop at the mercantile with the list he'd been given from the kitchen for supplies they would need to make the candies the woman had requested to be made for Monsieur Courtland's wife. He tucked it neatly in the large center pocket of his leather satchel.

It would be a rather long day traveling back to the city, and beyond it to the man's house, but it would be a welcome change of pace. Yes, he'd had his duties, but the weather had prevented his carrying out several, relegating him to the quite reading in one's quarters that Lady C was so terribly fond of. Of course she'd an extensive library of classic literature, and philosophy, music, and every manner of science, but one could only read so much. Sometimes one must simply experience life. Books should remind oneself of what one saw in life, not life reminding them of something they'd once read in a book. That was no better than merely living life by proxy, and that was a most useless life.

XXXXXX

The doctor returned to Meg's room, peering in the door. He smiled. Her head was leaned back in the corner of the divan. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, the alcohol dampened cloth lay on the floor. In that room filled only with the light of the fire and the several tall kerosene lamps, a soft white blanket bunched behind her on either side, Meg looked like an angel caught unaware sleeping on her watch. She was a lovely creature, most suitable for Raoul he thought.

The doctor slipped in, retrieving his back, and moving back completely unnoticed. The poor dear needed her rest. He'd not wished to medicate her for her nerves, but since he'd been removing the stitches, the pill had served two purposes…one she was aware of, one she was not. If she'd been awake, and known of what happened on the floor below her, she would no doubt be a trembling with fright. She was safe, and appeared comfortable. He would leave her there until such time he'd finished with Raoul.

The doctor was closing the door to Meg's room, as he turned around he nearly screamed from fright. There was DeChagny, and Madame Giry. Both in their night garments.

"What on earth is going on?" Madame Giry ventured. Raoul's father looking on with great interest.

The doctor looked over his shoulder. He'd rather hoped to put all affairs in order before involving anyone else, he sighed, but it shan't be so. "Follow me." He said. They did so without question.

Once arrived on the lower floor, he took them into the parlor, lighting the lamp and sharing all that he knew. Madame Giry and DeChagny had stood several times each wanting to go to their respective children, but the doctor had convinced them otherwise.

"I have to return to Raoul. His head needs stitching, and though it is not a large wound, it will continue to bleed until it is sewn. He shall heal without incident, though he may have a sore skull, and a rather stiff neck. It would be best if he were allowed to rest until the morrow." He looked at DeChagny.

Then he turned to Madame Giry. "Meg no doubt will need encouragement to rise and go to bed. If you could assist her dear Madame, that would be best for her to rest as well. When she has reclined, a final smearing of the ointment on her cheek would be good, as I've removed the stitches tonight." Madame Giry looked at him, a hint of worry in her eye. "Do not worry, she is fine, all will heal well."

He stood, taking his bag into hand once more. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'll tend to Raoul." He neither waited for reply nor to be excused. He had work to do, and no amount of conversation would change the outcome of the evening.

DeChagny stared at the floor. The room was chilly, and he was still tired. He'd no want of tea nor brandy, a return to his comfortable bed was all he could want for now. He looked at Madame Giry, "there is no doubt in the truth of the doctor's words. We should retire for the evening. With present threats passed, and our children in capable hands, they've no use for us dear lady."

Madame Giry looked at DeChagny. She wondered to herself at what seemed to be the first genuine, unguarded words he'd ever spoken to her. No pomp, no pretense, but words shared as if they were already family. "Perhaps you're right sir."

The pair rose and climbed the stairs in silence. Once at their doors they nodded briefly and smiled. They had become something of familiar enough now, that oft times now, words were not necessary.

XXX

The doctor returned to Raoul. Nadir had followed his instruction, keeping Raoul's head down. He glanced at Nadir, wondering of the eagerness he'd seen in his eye. "What is it Nadir?" He said as he began to remove his tools, laying them out yet again on a white cloth. He'd barely had time to clean them before he'd put them away, but now he was glad to have done so.

Nadir glanced at the doctor and inhaled. For the ruse to work, he'd have to be convincing, something he knew a great deal about. He began, talking while the doctor worked, recanting all that had happened. How he'd lost the boy, how the guards had found and joined him, how they had returned, how Raoul went out onto the veranda and shot the boy.

The doctor's head jerked up. "You are quite certain, the boy returned, he is in fact at this very moment quite dead?" He looked Nadir in the eye.

"You may speak with the carriage master yourself if you'd like, though it will be the very same that he tells you. Raoul was the only one in the yard, it had to have been he that fired the killing strike. The bump to his head has no doubt made him forget even his own actions."

The doctor was shaking his head, "he seemed so clear Nadir. It does worry me for him. He's endured far too much trauma these passed months." He said, trying to whisper so that Raoul would not hear. He'd thought Raoul to have fallen asleep.

"No…I know it was he….but who then…who then fired the killing strike?" Raoul said rather mumbled as he lurched forward, the doctor nearly tumbling down after him.

"Let us recline him Nadir!" The doctor said, holding Raoul's shoulder and his thread of cat-gut above Raoul's head. He was mid-stitch when Raoul had begun to fall.

Nadir rushed to his aid, easing Raoul down by the back. "Doctor?"

"No doubt it is from the blood loss, the trauma, the relief." He said, now kneeling on the floor behind Raoul finishing his stitching. "It is best he rests now. I've some smelling salts in my bag if they should be needed." The doctor said, nodding toward his bag.

Nadir simply watched. He was nearly thankful that Raoul had lost consciousness for the time being. Something had to be done to convince Raoul otherwise. He thought quickly. He'd have to find Raoul's gun…making certain that one bullet was missing from its chamber.

Dear Faithfuls:

Oh how very strange this feels not to include notes to you here. I wanted to mention once more that I will respond via e-mail to those who submit reviews. I am deeply saddened that we can no longer include reviews with the chapters, for I think it is what has helped keep the Phamily feeling like a family. I wanted to let you know that I will continue to do a mass note, not for the sake of it being easier, but so that everyone can still feel connected to one another. However, if anyone would prefer that I send them only their response, or want their response to be private, I can certainly do that too. It is my hope that this new required process will not make others feel left out of the loop. If so…please let me know! Bon Nuit!