Chapter 6: Message Delivered

Nadir had been pleasantly surprised by Madame Giry's candor and obvious loyalty to Erik. But then, Erik had told him of her unfailing support, in spite of her strong disapproval of his actions. She thought of him as the son she had never had.

When he entered his apartment, he was immediately set upon by Erik, who jumped up from the divan, and roughly grasped the Persian's robe.

"Where is she?" His tone was at once pleading and menacing.

"All in good time, my dear sir," replied the Persian, with an aplomb that stoked Erik's impatience.

"You are truly maddening, daroga! Have you.....?"

Nadir placed a gentle finger to his lips, silently producing the envelope with his other hand.

Erik seized the message immediately, his hands trembling. "What, you've opened it?!" His gaze turned furiously on his friend.

"No, Erik, I have not. It was opened by Madame Giry herself. She informed me that you would trust her. Is that not true?"

"Yes, yes, it is. I suppose she wished to ascertain which one of us had sent it -- Christine, or myself."

Erik walked over to the divan, and sat down as he withdrew the message from the torn envelope. As he quickly perused it, his eyes misted over. When he had finished, he held it to his chest, looking over at the daroga.

"I dared not hope......" His lips quivered slightly. Looking down at his chest, he held the note up again, and re-read it. Then he silently handed it over to the Persian, who had quietly come over to sit next to him.

Nadir read it quickly himself, and then looked at Erik, smiling. "Well, my friend! This certainly settles the matter! I suspected as much!"

Erik glanced at him, smiling as well, although he could not trust himself to speak as yet. Nadir clapped him on the shoulder.

"I assume you wish to go to her at once, but I would caution you agaisnt doing so. The Opera House is sure to be watched."

Erik's smile disappeared. "Yes, of course it will be. Where could we meet, then?"

"I cannot bring her here, either," the daroga mused. "I have already taken a risk in bringing you, and then seeing Madama Giry. The Parisian police, although not as bright as their Persian equivalent, might see a connection."

Erik had to laugh at the comparison. "You are entirely correct in your observation, daroga!" Then his expression sobered, and he returned to the matter at hand.

"I am still wondering where........Ah, I have it!" he suddenly exclaimed.

The Persian looked puzzled.

"I made the acquaintance of a certain priest several years ago. He is much like you -- a rebel without a cause. He says mass at a chapel on the outskirts of the city, and lives in a small house behind the chapel. I could meet Christine there, and marry her at once, to boot!"

The Persian grinned, then looked at him somberly. "Erik, while I am happy for you, I must tell you that you will be making Christine a fugitive. Surely you must realize that. As your wife, she will be deemed an accomplice of sorts."

Erik nodded. "I do realize that, believe me. But do you think for a moment that this will constitute an impediment for us?" His steady golden gaze was piercing.

Nadir sighed. "I suppose not. I am not comfortable with this situation. It is not, of course, an ethical one, and you are well aware of my feelings regarding such things. Still, for the sake of my little Rezza......"

"Thank you, my friend," Erik said in a thick voice, as he squeezed the Persian's shoulder.

"I shall get my manservant to take a message to Mademoiselle Daae. She must surely have arrived at the Populaire by now."

The daroga rose as Erik slumped back on the divan, feeling a mixture of elation and mounting anticipation.