The confession (cont.)

The Vicomte asked Christine to come to his study and explained to her carefully that Pierre Bertrand had something to say to her.

"You have such a strange air," said Christine in concern. "Is it bad news?"

Raoul stammered out a few awkward words, then managed: "Please prepare yourself for the worst shock of your life."

Christine was sitting in the armchair and Raoul behind his desk when Erik came in, flanked by Dr Martin and Babette. The doctor and Babette drew aside and Erik shut the door. But he came not a single step closer to Raoul or Christine.

"So you have something to tell us?" prompted Raoul, realising that Erik was not going to begin of his own accord.

"Madame, I have a confession to make," started Erik. Then he fell to his knees. "I've lied to you. I'm not the man I claimed to be. I... I'm Erik."

And with that he took off his eyepatch and false nose.

Christine remained to all appearances entirely calm. "So it was true after all," she whispered numbly. "I suspected as much, but I didn't want to believe it."

Then she stood up, went to Raoul's desk and took out a pistol, aimed at Erik and fired without a word. The bullet smashed into the door behind him.

Everyone stared at her as if paralysed, and Raoul in particular was shocked. Was that really his wife who had fired without hesitation? She had missed, but that was on account of her short-sightedness and inexperience with the weapon.

Christine laid down the long pistol, picked up the little derringer, cocked it and came straight towards Erik. This time she held the weapon right in front of his face.

"Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger?" she demanded.

Erik stared at her, eyes wide with terror. "Please — please don't!" But he made no attempt to take the weapon away from her, although he could certainly have done so.

"Name me one single reason," Christine said again. Then she lost the icy calm that had previously surrounded her and screamed at him in fury. "So it wasn't enough for you to torture us and keep us in constant fear, to cut us off from everything we knew and drive us out of our minds with terror! No, you had to worm your way into our family in the guise of a good friend so that you could feast yourself daily on the sight of our tortures, you sick monster! I can't believe that you've touched my daughter! Can you tell me one single reason why I shouldn't kill you now?"

"Your own innocence," answered Erik, and Christine let the gun fall.

"Innocence is precious," he continued. "Believe me, there is a gulf between those who have already shed blood, and those who have not done so. I am on the wrong side... and so I can only beg you for your own sake, stay where you are."

Christine broke down in tears and Raoul took her into his arms — not before having removed the weapon from her. "What has he done to me?" sobbed Christine. "He has made me into as much of a monster as he is."

"No, he hasn't," responded Raoul. "He hasn't. It's over."

For a while there was nothing to be heard in the room but Christine's despairing sobs. Then, when she was somewhat calmer, she turned to Erik, who still knelt on the floor. "You owe me. You owe me for over two years of my life. How do you plan to repay me?"

Erik shrugged helplessly.

"What — no begging, no whining, no tears? Now you do astonish me, Erik. You're so very good at that... at least when you want to get something. Don't you at least want to apologise to me?"

Erik looked at her, still shocked. "Do you hear yourself speaking, Madame? That's not you — that's how I would speak, but not you..." He seemed completely bewildered.

Christine burst into tears again, and Raoul took her back sobbing into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," said Erik, "I'm so sorry..."

~o~

"I want to know everything," said Christine, when she had calmed down somewhat and sat down in the armchair.

"Of course," Erik answered. "But... um.. can it wait a little while? I think... just now I suffered an extremely embarrassing mishap..."

"You didn't...?" whispered Babette, taken aback. Erik gave an embarrassed grin and shrugged in assent. Then he asked to be excused for a couple of minutes. As he stood, Christine saw just how close to his head her bullet had come. His right ear was bleeding. It was not serious, a mere scratch on the outer edge of the earlobe, but a few centimetres further and the bullet would have killed him.

Erik put his eye patch and false nose back on, then left the room. Babette ran after him as he went.

"Did that really just happen?" asked Dr Martin, overwhelmed by the situation. He turned to Christine. "Madame, if you will permit — I must use my stethoscope to listen to the baby. I need to be sure that you are both all right."

Erik and Babette came back, with Babette holding Erik's hand. Erik appeared very weak, as if he were ill, and Babette had a determined expression and was holding on to his hand as if to prevent him from making a run for it. In the meantime Raoul had given Christine a brief account of his conversation with Erik, not in full detail but at least enough to let her know what had been said.

Erik closed the door behind him and once more fell to his knees. This time it was in front of Christine as she sat in the armchair. Babette and Dr Martin seated themselves on the couch and Raoul in the big chair behind his desk.

"My husband has told me about what took place in the woods," said Christine. "Are you injured?"

Taken aback, Erik shook his head.

"Oh no? Not injured?" said Dr Martin, exasperated. "A cracked jawbone, two broken ribs, bleeding weals and now a bullet grazing your ear, and you're not hurt?"

"No, I'm not hurt," Erik answered stubbornly. "I'm all right."

Babette cast up her eyes with a sigh. "Men!"

"Then answer my questions, Erik, and answer truthfully, please," Christine began. "You said that you never started to carry out your plans. Is that true? Look me in the eyes and tell me that it's true — and take off the mask!"

Erik took off his eyepatch and false nose without protest, and looked Christine directly in the face. "Yes, it's the truth."

"You said that Erik had given up hunting us because he had found something better to do. What was that?"

An inward breath hissed through Erik's teeth. "Marie. Marie means everything to me."

"You also said," Christine continued, "that you considered the husband of the girl you loved — by which I can only assume that you meant Raoul and myself — to be a better man than you were. Is that true?"

Erik nodded.

"How true is it?" demanded Christine, unconvinced. She was thoroughly suspicious of Erik.

"True so far as morality goes. Morally he is head and shoulders above me," admitted Erik. But he added with a crooked grin, "And perhaps as a husband too — but in other respects I consider myself superior."

"Thanks very much," put in Raoul indignantly. "At least that one was a honest answer!"

Christine and Erik looked at one another; Erik's ear was still bleeding, but he took no notice. "I'm sorry I shot at you," she said, and gave him a handkerchief to press against the wound.

Erik's reaction was surprisingly calm. "I should have known. You're a mother, Christine, a mother afraid for her children, and it was an entirely natural response. You should have put on your spectacles, my dear... then I'd be dead."

"Address my wife like that one more time," broke in Raoul, "and I'll call you out for it!"

"You want a duel?" retorted Erik, his fighting spirit once more roused. "Go on then."

But he caught himself up at once. "Forgive me, sir — that was uncalled-for. I'm the only one here who should be apologising: I know what I have done to you both, and I regret it from the bottom of my heart. I know too that I can never make it up to you and give you back the years you have lost. I offer you my life — if you require it of me, I'll hang myself today. There's no more I can do."

"Are you still in love with me?"

Christine continued her questioning. This time her voice sounded very sad.

Erik nodded and looked at the floor. "Yes, Madame. I still love you, and will always do so."

"What about Babette?"

Erik gave Babette an unhappy look. "I'm sorry, Babette, I can't love you the way I feel about her. I love you too, but... differently."

Now it was Babette who wanted to know more. "And if you had to choose between us, which one would you pick?"

Erik looked at her, speechless.

"Now, this will be interesting," said Christine. "I'd like to know too. What's it like, to have to choose? What is it like to love two people and have to choose between them?"

Erik turned his head helplessly from side to side, and said softly, "If I had the choice... Christine. I'm sorry, Babette, but that's the truth."

Babette positively exploded with fury.

"Oh, so you would now, would you, you swine? But naturally — she's younger and prettier than I am, now take a look at this beautiful young lady. You miserable hypocrite, you really are the limit: YOU ought to know what it's like to be old and ugly! You're a right b_!" And a whole rain of curses followed. Christine couldn't understand the half of it, while Raoul and Dr Martin went scarlet.

Erik knelt huddled on the floor and stared down at the carpet. No-one could have said quite what was going through his mind, but he was obviously deeply ashamed. Babette concluded: "You want two women, you louse — a saint you can stick up in a shrine and pray to, and a whore you can take to bed. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

And with that she clipped him a hearty blow round the back of the head.

"I didn't say that," protested Erik defensively, and rubbed the ache.

"You didn't need to — men are all the same. First they idolise a woman, and then as soon as they've got what they want, they call her a whore."

"Babette," Erik began helplessly, "Babette, I... you wanted to know the truth... and you've got no need to be jealous, I know perfectly well I've never had a chance with Madame, nor ever would..."

"And so you make do with the fat and ugly cook, do you?" spat Babette. "Just who do you think you are, you miserable brute — Don Juan himself?" At which point Erik, Raoul and Christine all broke down in laughter. "What is it? What's so funny about that?"

"I... I'll explain some other time," said Erik, trying to bring his laughter under control.

"Well, if I had the choice between you and the Vicomte, I'd go for him too," said Babette angrily.

The Vicomte's expression at this was so aghast that his wife found it more difficult than ever to stop laughing. Babette continued: "As if I wanted to be in Madame's shoes! Snatched from the stage and carried off into the catacombs, that's appalling!"

"Don't worry, that wouldn't happen to you," retorted Erik, whose patience was at an end; even if he was ashamed, he wasn't prepared to submit to constant reproach. "I wouldn't have been able to carry you."

Babette dealt him a resounding slap. There was a certain glint in Erik's eye as though the whole business had begun to amuse him, and he assured her: "Oh, I like a bit of meat on my bones."

"You swine of a filthy, miserable, hypocritical egotist!" Babette berated him.

"Enough!" exclaimed Raoul. "Take your quarrel outside, anywhere you like, but leave us in peace. In here we're dealing purely with what Erik has done to us — to my wife and myself."

"If you send him away, I'm going with him," said Babette immediately. "Even if he hasn't deserved it in any way and isn't worth it!"

Erik, deeply ashamed, said nothing.

"Raoul told me that you want to stay," Christine said, once more taking control of the conversation. Erik nodded. "Just like that, without further ado? What do you have in mind?"

Erik shrugged his shoulders.

"Very well; I shan't go against what my husband has said. I'm setting just one condition. Do you want to know what it is?"

"Anything," said Erik eagerly, "whatever you want, Chri—forgive me—Madame."

"You can stay, but only as yourself."

"How do you mean?" said Erik, confused.

"It's quite simple. Not as Pierre Bertrand the soldier, with the false nose and eyepatch. If you want to stay, then it will have to be without any mask, without any costume, any disguise. I know full well that the entire neighbourhood gossips about me and my husband and thinks us crazy for fearing a Phantom. You can put an end to that by showing yourself openly. And that's precisely what I require of you."

Erik stared at her in horror. "That's your condition? That I have to show my bare face openly, all the time? That's... that's cruel."

Christine remained calm. "The chateau has a door and you're welcome to use it. But if you leave, there will be no returning. The choice is yours."

Erik shook his head, trying to set his thoughts in order. "All my life I've run away and hidden. Not this time. If you will permit me to see Marie regularly, and the children that are yet to come, then I will do whatever you demand."

Christine looked at Raoul, and nodded. "Very well, but only under supervision."

"Thank you," said Erik softly.

"Now to the specifics," said Raoul. "If Erik starts running around without a mask right away, he'll terrify the entire household. That won't do; we need to explain matters. I propose to call everyone together in the hall this evening, when Erik is to stand up in front of them all and admit to his lies."

Erik grimaced. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you do. If my wife says 'without lies', then without lies it must be. You will tell everyone how you are a liar and a fraud and have deceived us for years. And then I shall say that we are nevertheless retaining you here and that you will be working for me."

Erik cast an imploring glance at Christine. "Must I?"

"Don't look at me like that," said the Vicomtesse angrily. "You can do it or make a run for it; your decision. Everyone will be waiting for you this evening in the Great Hall. If you want to bolt in the meantime, you're welcome to do so."

"I shan't run away," said Erik, and added quietly: "At least, I hope not."

Christine turned to Babette. "Dear Babette, I put him at your disposal now."

Babette made a curtsey. "Thank you, Madame."

Erik left the room in a state of total confusion; the situation was far too much for him. Christine caught Babette by the arm as she was about to follow. "Babette, tell me... when I shot at him, did he really...?"

Babette grinned and nodded. Then she gave Christine a conspiratorial wink and ran after Erik, saying loudly, so that nobody could possibly fail to hear it, "And now you're going to explain what all this Don Juan business is about!"

That evening, more or less the entire household was waiting in the hall, wondering what it was their employers had to tell them that was so important. Raoul looked at his watch. "He's not coming."

"He is coming," Christine countered.

"I think he's miles away already."

"Or simply late," suggested Christine.

At that moment they saw Erik, followed by Babette, coming in through a side door. He was keeping in the shadows so that no-one could see his face.

"Ah, Monsieur Bertrand," called Raoul, and at once the room fell silent. Everyone stared in Erik's direction. "Come over here."

Erik approached Raoul. As Christine had demanded, he wore no mask. This public humiliation was dreadful for him; he was trying not to look anyone in the face, but he could not close his ears to the shrieks, the gasps and all the sounds of the crowd. Memories were rising in him that for years he had desperately sought to repress, and he knew that if he looked anyone in the eye he would go out of his mind. His hands clutched at open air as if he were trying to hold on to something, and he broke out into a icy sweat of fear, afraid that he could already feel cold prison bars beneath his grasp.

Instead he felt a warm grasp under his own left hand, and clung onto it for dear life. Then he opened his eyes carefully to see to whom the fingers belonged.

Babette stood at his side, smiling. "Whatever happens, I am with you," she told him, her voice unusually gentle. Erik's whole body was trembling.

Both Christine and Raoul realised that while Erik was doing his best, at that moment he was unable to speak a single word. It was pointless to try to compel him; he was simply at the end of his tether. And so Raoul decided that he would have to make the speech himself.

Christine felt miserable. Her conscience was uneasy because it was she who had set Erik this terrible humiliation, but she knew now that he had spoken the truth when he had claimed to love her. He had changed; otherwise he would not be here now and would not have exposed himself to this ignominious degradation which awoke such terrible memories.

"You all know that my wife and I have been afraid of a pursuer," began Raoul. "We are well aware on that account you have taken us to be mad. But we did not know just how artful that pursuer was; he disguised himself and had the gall to position himself under our very noses, so brazenly that it occurred to no-one that it was him. Pierre François Erik Bertrand, better known as Erik, has today confessed everything and begged our forgiveness."

Erik tried to remain somehow or other on his feet and not to throw up. More than that at this moment he could not manage. He continued to hold fast to Babette like a drowning man clutching at a line.

"We have forgiven him," said the Vicomtesse. "And we want you all to know the truth so that no further rumours will arise. He will remain here, because we believe that every man deserves a fair chance in life. He has hitherto had none. And so, Erik, if you wish it, we offer you the chance to make a fresh start in this place. You have only to take my hand."

Erik stared at her, saw her outstretched hand and laid his right hand, trembling, in hers. He simply stood there, hanging on to the two women, incapable of saying anything or of formulating a halfway coherent thought.

"We expect everyone here to treat Erik with respect, like any other man," said the Vicomte. "And that is everything said that there is to say on the subject."

At the edge of his consciousness Erik became aware that he was being led into another room. Then everything around him went black.

~o~

"Go on, help him!" cried Babette, and at once Dr Martin was there to examine Erik.

"Clearly a sudden onset of weakness," the doctor diagnosed. "This was too much for him."

Erik groaned softly and reopened his eyes. "What...?" he asked, when he saw Dr Martin, Christine, Raoul and Babette all bending over him.

Babette passed him a glass of water. "Here, take a sip."

Erik took the water thankfully. "Tell me... did you really mean it? You're offering me a fresh start?"

"Yes. we are," Raoul confirmed.

"Erik, I'm sorry," said Christine, "I should have known that it was too hard for you. I wanted you to pay for what you had done to us, but... what we asked of you just now, that was too hard. Above all because we knew what you had had to endure as a child. Can you forgive us?"

"You're asking MY forgiveness?" said Erik in astonishment. Christine nodded, smiling. "I don't hold anything against you. I'm only grateful that you are giving me a chance."

Raoul turned to Babette. "Tell me — how did he get that black eye?"

Babette looked her employer straight in the face. "I gave him a piece of my mind."

Erik gazed at her. "Babette... thank you. You really were at my side the whole time. I know I'm completely unworthy, but... would you marry me? Not on the 31st of February, but on a real day?"

Babette looked at the ceiling with feigned offence. "Now I'll have to think carefully about that one... All right, then — but only because I'm in sore need of a father for my five children, and a grandfather for my three grandchildren. No, four, there's another one coming... And I'm tired of sitting in the pew of shame in church!"

Original author's notes:

The "pew of shame" (German: Ledigenbank): in Europe in former days, unmarried mothers were obliged to sit in a separate pew in church and not next to respectable women. They were held up to the community as a cautionary example.

Christine reacts violently and demonstrates that she is far more dangerous than Raoul. Luckily her eyesight is poor and she has no idea how to use a gun. She is simply a mother who is afraid for her children and for that reason is prepared to do anything — and after all that Erik has done to her, it's entirely understandable. But she and Raoul are at heart decent people.

Babette is great fun to write! She really does love Erik, otherwise she would not stand by him, but she also has the habit of giving him her unvarnished opinion whether he wants to hear it or not. And there are many things about himself that he has no wish to hear at all.