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important communication.

During this conversation, M. Mifroid did not take his eyes off Raoul. At last, addressing him, he said:

“Monsieur, we have talked enough about the ghost. We will now talk about yourself a little, if you have no objection: you were to carry off Mlle. Christine Daaé tonight?”

“Yes, M. le commissaire.”

“After the performance?”

“Yes, M. le commissaire.”

“All your arrangements were made?”

“Yes, M. le commissaire.”

“The carriage that brought you was to take you both away.⁠ ⁠… There were fresh horses in readiness at every stage.⁠ ⁠…”

“That is true, M. le commissaire.”

“And nevertheless your carriage is still outside the Rotunda awaiting your orders, is it not?”

“Yes, M. le commissaire.”

“Did you know that there were three other carriages there, in addition to yours?”

“I did not pay the least attention.”

“They were the carriages of Mlle. Sorelli, which could not find room in the Cour de l’Administration; of Carlotta; and of your brother, M. le Comte de Chagny.⁠ ⁠…”

“Very likely.⁠ ⁠…”

“What is certain is that, though your carriage and Sorelli’s and Carlotta’s are still there, by the Rotunda pavement, M. le Comte de Chagny’s carriage is gone.”

“This has nothing to say to⁠ ⁠…”

“I beg your pardon. Was not M. le Comte opposed to your marriage with Mlle. Daaé?”

“That is a matter that only concerns the family.”

“You have answered my question: he was opposed to it⁠ ⁠… and that was why you were carrying Christine Daaé out of your brother’s reach.⁠ ⁠… Well, M. de Chagny, allow me to inform you that your brother has been smarter than you! It is he who has carried off Christine Daaé!”

“Oh, impossible!” moaned Raoul, pressing his hand to his heart. “Are you sure?”

“Immediately after the artist’s disappearance, which was procured by means which we have still to ascertain, he flung into his carriage, which drove right across Paris at a furious pace.”

“Across Paris?” asked poor Raoul, in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean by across Paris?”

“Across Paris and out of Paris⁠ ⁠… by the Brussels road.”

“Oh,” cried the young man, “I shall catch them!”

And he rushed out of the office.

“And bring her back to us!” cried the commissary gaily.⁠ ⁠… “Ah, that’s a trick worth two of the Angel of Music’s!”

And, turning to his audience, M. Mifroid delivered a little lecture on police methods.

“I don’t know for a moment whether M. le Comte de Chagny has really carried Christine Daaé off or not⁠ ⁠… but I want to know and I believe that, at this moment, no one is more anxious to inform us than his brother.⁠ ⁠… And now he is flying in pursuit of him! He is my chief auxiliary! This, gentlemen, is the art of the police, which is believed to be so complicated and which, nevertheless, appears so simple as soon as you see that it consists in getting your work done by people who have nothing to do with the police.”

But M. le Commissaire de Police Mifroid would not have been quite so satisfied with himself if he had known that the rush of his rapid emissary was stopped at the entrance to the very first corridor. A tall figure blocked Raoul’s way.

“Where are you going so fast, M. de Chagny?” asked a voice.

Raoul impatiently raised his eyes and recognized the astrakhan cap of an hour ago. He stopped:

“It’s you!” he cried, in a feverish voice. “You, who know Erik’s secrets and don’t want me to speak of them. Who are you?”

“You know who I am!⁠ ⁠… I am the Persian!”

XIX The Viscount and the Persian

Raoul now remembered that his brother had once shown him that mysterious person, of whom nothing was known except that he was a Persian and that he lived in a little old-fashioned flat in the Rue de Rivoli.

The man with the ebony skin, the eyes of jade and the astrakhan cap bent over Raoul.

“I hope, M. de Chagny,” he said, “that you have not betrayed Erik’s secret?”

“And why should I hesitate to betray that monster, sir?” Raoul rejoined haughtily, trying to shake off the intruder. “Is he your friend, by any chance?”

“I hope that you said nothing about Erik, sir, because Erik’s secret is also Christine Daaé’s and to talk about one is to talk about the other!”

“Oh, sir,” said Raoul, becoming more and more impatient, “you seem to know about many things that interest me; and yet I have no time to listen to you!”

“Once more, M. de Chagny, where are you going so fast?”

“Can not you guess? To Christine Daaé’s assistance.⁠ ⁠…”

“Then, sir, stay here, for Christine Daaé is here!”

“With Erik?”

“With Erik.”

“How do you know?”

“I was at the performance and no one in the world but Erik could contrive an abduction like that!⁠ ⁠… Oh,” he said, with a deep sigh, “I recognized the monster’s touch!⁠ ⁠…”

“You know him then?”

The Persian did not reply, but heaved a fresh sigh.

“Sir,” said Raoul, “I do not know what your intentions are, but can you do anything to help me? I mean, to help Christine Daaé?”

“I think so, M. de Chagny, and that is why I spoke to you.”

“What can you do?”

“Try to take you to her⁠ ⁠… and to him.”

“If you can do me that service, sir, my life is yours!⁠ ⁠… One word more: the commissary of police tells me that Christine Daaé has been carried off by my brother, Count Philippe.”

“Oh, M. de Chagny, I don’t believe a word of it.”

“It’s not possible, is it?”

“I don’t know if it is possible or not; but there are ways and ways of carrying people off; and M. le Comte Philippe has never, as far as I know, had anything to do with witchcraft.”

“Your arguments are convincing, sir, and I am a fool!⁠ ⁠… Oh, let us make haste! I place myself entirely in your hands!⁠ ⁠… How should I not believe you, when you are the only one to believe me⁠ ⁠… when you are the only one not to smile when Erik’s name is mentioned?”

And the young man impetuously seized the Persian’s hands. They were ice-cold.

“Silence!” said the Persian, stopping and listening to the distant sounds of the theater. “We must not mention that name here. Let us say ‘he’ and ‘him;’ then there

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