(A/N: This is a translation of the German story Gefangene der Angst by E. M. K. 81, which I am uploading with the author's permission in the hopes that other English-speaking readers will enjoy it as much as I did. Further chapters will appear as and when I finish translating them. For a link to the original, see my profile.)

Spring and summer

A few days after Marie's christening, the servant who took the post daily down to the little postal station in the village reported that the village was in a flurry of excitement because the organ in the church had played during the night. Yet it had not been either the parish priest or the organist or the choirmaster in the church, for all three swore up hill and down dale that they had been at home that night.

Raoul felt panic rise, and he was only glad that he was alone in his study and that his wife was not there. He felt suddenly cold and sick; sweat broke out on him and his legs trembled so much that he had to remain in his seat.

"Is everything all right, Monsieur?" enquired the servant, alarmed.

"No! Nothing is all right!" cried Raoul, his voice cracking. "Call Bertrand and Dubois at once!"

Both of them arrived immediately. Pierre looked grim.

"Erik is here," said Raoul tonelessly. Pierre stood there with his hands balled up into fists and stared down at the floor. By now Maurice knew that the Vicomte and Vicomtesse were trying to escape an 'Erik', and he too was able to realise just what this implied.

"And? What do we do now?" demanded Raoul.

Pierre sighed. "It was the church organ... so he was in the church. But he didn't come near the chateau: I was on watch, as always. He must be somewhere. We can drive him off if we arrange a shooting-party."

"We can't hunt a man!" Raoul protested.

"That's not what I mean. There are woods around the chateau; presumably he is in there. He'd be too conspicuous in the village or at the stud-farm. If we stage a hunt, an entirely normal shoot, we'll force him to leave again."

Dubois, on the other hand, suggested that they should inform the police that there was a wanted murderer in the vicinity.

"We'll do both," Raoul decided. "The more eyes there are on the look-out, the better for us."

The police did in fact dutifully search all through the villages — houses, barns and stables, and also the cellars and all the buildings on the estate — and found... nothing. Erik had vanished off the face of the earth.

The hunt took place without participation from its host, Raoul having excused himself officially on the grounds that he had injured a leg while out riding. He was represented by Pierre. The guests were, in the main, the owners of the surrounding estates, landed aristocracy who were delighted to comply with an invitation from the Vicomte de Chagny.

As a hunt it wasn't particularly successful — only a handful of game was shot — but that was in any case irrelevant. The actual purpose was that Erik should be driven out of the woods. No-one had seriously expected that they would catch Erik, but Raoul wanted to send him a clear message: We know you're there. We're ready for you. If war is what you want, then you can have it.

Wherever Erik might have been concealing himself, after the police search and the shoot through the woods there could be no other possibility than that he had abandoned the area — in particular given that the shooting-party had ended with a grand entertainment at the chateau. Great celebrations, lots of people (since all those invited to the hunt had brought their own huntsmen and their favourite servants with them), all of them armed; any attempt at an attack would have been pure suicide. No-one could have penetrated far enough to reach the Vicomte and Vicomtesse, who stayed at the back of the hall.

Over the following weeks Raoul and Christine did not dare venture outside the chateau, despite the glorious spring weather. They never set foot on the balcony or terrace, and nor was the nursemaid on any account allowed to take Marie outside, or to leave the big perambulator near a window even once. Raoul carried a gun with him constantly. At night he took the precaution of directing the beam from one dark-lantern towards the window and another at the door, while the great bed in which he and Christine slept was fitted with lightweight curtains: if they were in danger, he would be able to shoot any intruder from where he lay.

Marie and the nursemaid slept in the neighbouring room. Between the two rooms there was a connecting door, and the door which led from the other room to the corridor was nailed up so that the nursery could only be accessed through the Vicomte's bedroom. In this way Marie would be as safe as possible.

A strange sort of routine established itself. The windows must always be covered or kept shut so that no-one could see in from outside. The shutters were opened only enough to form loopholes through which one could fire, so that despite the spring a gloomy, depressing air began to spread. Neither Raoul nor Christine nor Marie left the interior of the chateau; Raoul at least looked outside now and again when he did his shooting practice with Pierre.

Pierre had constructed straw dummies, which he set up on broomsticks around the garden so that Raoul could shoot at them — when no-one was in the garden, naturally. They even attempted this exercise at night, until Pierre put an end to it on discovering that Raoul couldn't see well enough in the dark.

While Raoul and Christine grew ever more pale and silent, Pierre too was changed. Now that he only rarely smoked, his voice had lost its hoarseness and become lighter and clearer; in fact it was very gentle and pleasant. Furthermore he altered his night-time habits. By night he would take the grey horse from the stable behind the chateau and ride around the gardens in the dark. He no longer made use of a lantern, and practised together with the horse and the dogs until their five shapes moved through the grounds like ghosts, soundless and almost invisible. Only now and again when the moonlight fell upon them could they be seen.

Every evening at a quarter to six Pierre visited his god-daughter, sat for fifteen minutes by her cradle and played with her. He had his own special way of playing with the baby: first he would lean over the cradle and then wait until Marie turned her great blue eyes onto him. Then he would carefully move his hand directly above her and she would make a grab for it. As soon as she managed to catch hold of his finger she would gurgle with satisfaction and Pierre would laugh. This went on for a quarter of an hour, then he said good-bye and left.

Raoul and Christine were amazed at this strong affection suddenly shown by Pierre. It was as if the old man were completely transformed when he was near Marie — as if Marie were a little sun with the power to melt the winter's snow.

It was May when Pierre sought a talk with them.

"This can't go on," he began. "A child needs fresh air and sunshine. And just take a look at yourselves — somehow you must try to live a normal life. You can't spend the rest of your lives shut up in a darkened house.

"Listen to me: this chateau is like the Bastille and you are the prisoners, can't you see that? Nothing has been heard of Erik for months. He hasn't attacked. Nothing has been seen of him — nothing. He's probably long gone. You are his prisoners without his even lifting a finger. He's got you so cowed that you've locked yourselves in jail."

"We can't take any risks!" insisted Raoul. Pierre sighed.

"Then at least go out into the garden with Marie some sunny morning. My dogs and I will be there to guard you. Nothing will happen, I'm sure of that."

"And if it does?" Christine objected. "I'm not running the risk!"

"Nothing will happen, I promise you," insisted Pierre.

From then on they began cautiously to venture at least for short periods outside the chateau and to open the windows again. Christine was astonished at the beauty of the vast gardens: with all the flowers and blossoming bushes and the fresh greenery it was wonderful.

After they had survived several weeks and nothing at all had happened they became a little braver. Raoul ventured — under Pierre's escort — to ride over the estates in order to inspect the vineyards, as well as the stud farm together with its paddocks, indoor riding-school and the attached training grounds.

Slowly, very slowly, they began to lay aside the strain. They attempted to live as normal, and nothing happened. Wherever Erik was, whatever he was planning, he made no move at all; finally it was Christine who said "To perish with fear is also a form of death — and I refuse to let Erik win. I won't let him destroy our happiness. From now on we shall live as ordinary a life as possible."

~o~

In early summer Pierre came suddenly into Raoul's study just as the latter was writing a letter to his brother.

"May I speak to you, sir?" he asked, almost sheepishly.

"Of course — what is it?"

Pierre shifted from one foot to the other in embarrassment and stared at the floor. "I... I've stolen from you," he confessed.

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, the Vicomte enquired just what he had stolen.

"I've taken your cigarettes, sir, and your wine."

Raoul stared at him, taken aback, then laughed. "A few cigarettes isn't so bad as all that — and if you want a glass of wine with your dinner, just get one from the kitchen, that's already arranged for."

Pierre shook his head. "But I've taken the best wine, reserved for the high table, and as for the cigarettes... well, I'm afraid it was more than a few."

Raoul sighed and wondered what he should do. On the one hand he greatly valued Pierre, and also approved of the fact that he had come to confess — but how ought he to react now?

After a while Pierre asked, almost fearfully, "What will you do with me now?"

"I don't know," admitted the Vicomte. "What would you do in my place?"

Pierre didn't consider for long. "Give me a thrashing and drive me off."

"Are you serious?" Raoul could scarcely believe it. Pierre nodded and bowed his head, his hands clasped behind his back.

Raoul made a decision. "I'll take it out of your wages."

Pierre stared at him, astonished. "Is that all?"

"Of course it is — I'm certainly not going to throw you out over a handful of cigarettes that I didn't even know I had. In the future just ask when you want something, understood?"

"You are too generous, Monsieur," said Pierre, and made a bow. "I'm truly sorry and it won't happen again."

Raoul nodded, and asked "You haven't stolen anything else, have you?"

"No, of course not!" cried Pierre, and seemed almost indignant. "I didn't want to steal anything; I simply hadn't thought about the wine and the cigarettes. It was much later that it occurred to me that this was also theft, and that's why I want to settle the matter. It's just that I simply hadn't thought about it... but I've never taken anything of any worth from you, let alone money."

(continued...)