"Lord, open our lips: And we shall praise your name. Lord, open our lips: And we shall praise your name. Lord, open our lips: And we shall praise your name.

"Lord how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me.

"Many there be which say of my soul, There is no help for him in God. Selah.

"But thou, O LORD, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.

"I cried unto the LORD with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. Selah.

"I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the LORD sustained me.

"I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people that have set themselves against me round about.

"Arise, O LORD; save me, O my God: for thou hast smitten all mine enemies upon the cheek bone; thou hast broken the teeth of the ungodly.

"Salvation belongeth unto the LORD: Thy blessing is upon Thy people. Selah."*

Erik clears his throat, interrupting Pere Charles' prayers.

Although mildly shaken by the unexpected presence in the chapel, the priest rises from the prie-dieu saying, "I did not see you in the darkness when I came in."

"A gift of mine," Erik says, laughing lightly. "It is in darkness where I find comfort. During the night one experience better cognition without the distractions of the light of day."

"Yes, I suppose that is true. The quiet. However, I have never been fond of having to rise from my warm bed to recite Matins, even though the prayer addresses salvation whatever sins might have been committed," the older man says, taking a seat in the pew across from where Erik sits. "Quite appropriate for you, I would say. The young mademoiselle is asleep, I take it?"

"When I left her at the door of her room, she was quite ready for slumber. Even though she was most excited by the trip and meeting you, ultimately the day has been quite long and taxing."

After kissing her on the forehead, Erik stroked her cheek. "Get some rest, the day has been full and you need your rest."

"What about you? We have had the same day…at least physically," she replied toying with his lapel.

"You know I have trouble sleeping."

"I would wager you would fall fast asleep once your head hit the pillow," she laughed. "Your uncle is most kind and loving, I would hope his welcome gave you some peace."

"He has given me much to think about, I will grant you that."

"Promise you will not stay up too late. Tomorrow night you will not likely get too much rest."

Erik frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Cheeks flushed, her eyes lowered, she replied, "Tomorrow will be our wedding night…I mean, if Pere Charles finds your birth certificate, then we can be married and, well, we shall have our wedding night."

"I see. Well. To be frank, I had not considered that."

"In truth?" Stepping back, she cocked her head at him, brow furrowed. "You have not considered our wedding night?"

"I may have considered it in the abstract…several times, in fact," he admitted, face flushing. "Somehow the fact we might be actually wed has eluded me."

"Well, even if it is not tomorrow, but the next day, I promise you we shall have our wedding night." Lifting up on her toes, she pressed a light kiss on his lips. "Now promise me you will get some sleep…after you complete your eternal mulling."

"I promise." Pressing another kiss on the top of her head, he said, "Now get some rest."

Does she really expect they will spend their wedding night here? In the home of a priest? Pondering a wedding night is what brought him to the chapel, but discussing that with this kindly man, relative or not was a bit more than he wished to share.

"What of you?" Pere Charles voice brings him back to their conversation.

"I find I do not need much sleep."

"Insomnia?"

"No. Choice. I find working on my music restful…I have a room in my house reminiscent of this chapel, truth be told."

"I can understand that. My father…your grandfather built it especially for Maman – she chose the patterns for the windows. I think most of us sought solace here with or without any idea of praying."

"Precisely."

"And yet you do not wish to sleep?"

"Mostly due to my fears," he replies. Surprising himself by sharing this secret with someone who is essentially a stranger. Is this what family is like? When Christine speaks of her father, he often wonders at the comfort she found with him. Such trust. With Nadir and Adele, the trust took time. Pere Charles, despite the strange introduction, touched him in a way no one else ever had. Maybe he was right about the God business.

"Real or imagined."

"Both, I would say. In the past, I found wakefulness the best protection against real physical attacks. Now, my dreams are almost as threatening." Trust or not, speaking of his dreams finds him uncomfortable. "What is the prayer you were saying?"

Seeming unconcerned with the shift in the conversation, Pere Charles replies, "Psalm 3…King David, in crisis mode, fled Absolom…he was being disciplined for his relationship with Bathsheba and Uriah the Hittite."

"Relationship?"

"A simple word for a complex situation," Pere Charles says. "To put it succinctly, King David saw Bathsheba as she was washing herself one morning and sent his servants to abduct her. He lay with her against her will."

"He seduced her?"

Nodding, the priest continues. "Later, when Bathsheba told him she was with child, David called Uriah, her husband, back from battle. The problem was, Uriah would not lay with her because he deemed it unfair to his fellow soldiers."

"A good man."

"Most would say so. Yes. However, it would be his undoing. He was killed in battle."

"Deliberately?"

"Possibly…probably."

"What about Bathsheba?"

"After a period of mourning, David brought her to his house and took her as his wife. The child she bore was King Solomon – one of the wisest men to have ever lived."

"The cutting of the baby in two story?"

"Precisely."

"So this Psalm means what? In terms of being required reading every day of your life."

"David wrote this in the midst of the events and still believed God loved him and would protect him despite his being a sinner."

"And did God love and protect him?"

"Yes – as I noted, he and Bathsheba married and they raised their child together…quite happily I believe."

"So she forgave him as well. Quite a remarkable woman. He took her by force, impregnated her, likely caused the death of her husband. Lucky man."

"God's chosen one."

"Hmmm. God certainly does work in mysterious ways. Gives me hope," Erik smirks. "I do see some interesting similarities to what happened with Christine and myself."

"To be honest, until I was telling you the story behind the prayer, the level of forgiveness had not occurred to me," Pere Charles laughs. "I have recited the Psalm every day for all the years of my priesthood and, as most things one repeats over and over, other than the reminder about forgiveness, does not resonate on a personal level. I do not suppose I ever thought I would meet anyone who fit the story."

"In other words, you no longer think about the words of the prayer, you simply say it out of rote."

"Sadly, yes. There is a certain amount of tedium attached in being required to perform certain tasks…saying certain prayers. Much of the reading of the Daily Office is about humility, reminding me I committed my life to serving God."

"Much like learning scales in music. I suppose I can thank God for my music…and my mother's encouragement, if somewhat reluctant."

"You play?"

Erik nods. "It would seem I have a natural gift. I play both piano and violin…my singing has also been commented on positively. My mother encouraged me, even helped me with some lessons."

"I should like to hear you…I sang when I was younger," the older man says, a wistful note in his voice. "Much of the Mass is sung, and, while at my parish, I also led the choir. I rather miss that."

"You must hear Christine," Erik replies. "If there are angels, she is among their number. Unlike King David, my initial attraction was to her voice although she is, as you can see most lovely."

"Is that how she came to live with you…as a student?"

"Not exactly, I had been teaching her to sing anonymously…that in itself is a long story. In any event, she called me her Angel of Music. Her Father told her when he died he would send an angel."

Pere Charles laughs. "From the way you speak of yourself, I am sure you never believed anyone would think you to be an angel. I should love to hear more of this story whenever you feel you might wish to tell it to me."

"We shall see," Erik says. "In any event, during our lessons, I came to love her. When the young man appeared making claim to her after all my…our hard work, I simply acted and took her there to my home beneath the opera house."

"It would seem we have much lost ground to cover in terms of your life," the priest chuckles. "I do think I understand, however, about why you took her."

"Do you?" Erik looks hard at his uncle. "I have never touched her improperly. I am frankly surprised when she holds my hand or gives me hugs or kisses me lightly on my cheek."

"So you have lived a celibate life…like a priest?"

"I did not say that." Erik shifts in his seat. "There is a class of women who perform certain services to men for a fee, although my first experience was with a gypsy woman who traveled with the troupe I came to live with when I ran away from my mother's house. I have much in common with Bathsheba in that regard."

"I am sorry you were abused. You seemed to not want me to know of your life when Mlle. Christine raised the issue," the older man says. "I am grateful you are trusting me with what you have been sharing with me now."

"I do not want her burdened with my past," he says. "Coming here, being in a normal world makes me realize how inept I am at living and what a strange situation I have introduced her to."

"Seems like you have been forced to concentrate on surviving."

"I suppose you could put it that way," Erik acknowledges. Once again, he feels a warmth surrounding his heart towards this man. Is this what might have been had his father lived? "The man I told you about…Nadir Khan. He is perhaps the only person in the world who befriended me despite not only my face, but my…what should I call it…character. Madame Giry, as well. And, of course, Christine. Now they are all involved in this mess that was my doing."

"It sounds to me as if the Vicomte holds most of the responsibility for what happened to him."

"If I had not interfered, he would be alive and she would be with him."

"I did not get the impression that the young man was someone she would choose as a partner…husband."

"But if I…"

"Stop playing the victim, Erik, I think you are better than that."

"Excuse me?"

"You have been treated terribly. I know this. I see this in you. Your suffering and anger are deep. I am truly happy to sit and listen to every single account you want to tell me," the priest says softly. "But you must realize you have overcome all the evil people have thrown at you. You are loved."

"Do you believe I sinned because of what happened with Christine and Raoul's subsequent death?"

"I cannot and will not judge you," Pere Charles says. "That is up to God, however, I can offer you absolution if you believe you sinned."

"What if I am not a Catholic?"

"I somehow believe you are. For all her faults, your mother seemed to be afraid of God's wrath," the priest says. "I will find that out tomorrow. In the meantime, forgive yourself." Rising from the pew, he returns to the prie-dieu. "As for me, I must complete my reading. Stay if you like, but I think you will have a peaceful night now if you go to bed."

"I shall try," Erik says, getting up himself. "Good night, Pere…and thank you."

*This is the opening versicle of Matins (repeated three times), the prayer of a priest's Daily Office recited at about 2AM. Following the versicle is Psalm 3 describing a specific time of crisis in King David's life.