the girl broke in promptly, while a deep blush mantled to her
eyes. "I thought, mamma, that there was to be no more question of
that! ... You know there is no such thing as the Angel of Music!" "But, child, he gave you lessons for three months!" "Mamma, I have promised to explain everything to you one of these days;
and I hope to do so but you have promised me, until that day, to be
silent and to ask me no more questions whatever!" "Provided that you promised never to leave me again! But have you
promised that, Christine?" "Mamma, all this can not interest M. de Chagny." "On the contrary, mademoiselle," said the young man, in a voice which
he tried to make firm and brave, but which still trembled, "anything
that concerns you interests me to an extent which perhaps you will one
day understand. I do not deny that my surprise equals my pleasure at
finding you with your adopted mother and that, after what happened
between us yesterday, after what you said and what I was able to guess,
I hardly expected to see you here so soon. I should be the first to
delight at your return, if you were not so bent on preserving a secrecy
that may be fatal to you ... and I have been your friend too long not
to be alarmed, with Mme. Valerius, at a disastrous adventure which will
remain dangerous so long as we have not unraveled its threads and of
which you will certainly end by being the victim, Christine." At these words, Mamma Valerius tossed about in her bed. "What does this mean?" she cried. "Is Christine in danger?" "Yes, madame," said Raoul courageously, notwithstanding the signs which
Christine made to him. "My God!" exclaimed the good, simple old woman, gasping for breath. "You must tell me everything, Christine! Why did you try to reassure
me? And what danger is it, M. de Chagny?" "An impostor is abusing her good faith." "Is the Angel of Music an impostor?" "She told you herself that there is no Angel of Music." "But then what is it, in Heaven's name? You will be the death of me!" "There is a terrible mystery around us, madame, around you, around
Christine, a mystery much more to be feared than any number of ghosts
or genii!" Mamma Valerius turned a terrified face to Christine, who had already
run to her adopted mother and was holding her in her arms. "Don't believe him, mummy, don't believe him," she repeated. "Then tell me that you will never leave me again," implored the widow. Christine was silent and Raoul resumed. "That is what you must promise, Christine. It is the only thing that
can reassure your mother and me. We will undertake not to ask you a
single question about the past, if you promise us to remain under our
protection in future." "That is an undertaking which I have not asked of you and a promise
which I refuse to make you!" said the young girl haughtily. "I am
mistress of my own actions, M. de Chagny: you have no right to control
them, and I will beg you to desist henceforth. As to what I have done
during the last fortnight, there is only one man in the world who has
the right to demand an account of me: my husband! Well, I have no
husband and I never mean to marry!" She threw out her hands to emphasize her words and Raoul turned pale,
not only because of the words which he had heard, but because he had
caught sight of a plain gold ring on Christine's finger. "You have no husband and yet you wear a wedding-ring." He tried to seize her hand, but she swiftly drew it back. "That's a present!" she said, blushing once more and vainly striving to
hide her embarrassment. "Christine! As you have no husband, that ring can only have been given
by one who hopes to make you his wife! Why deceive us further? Why
torture me still more? That ring is a promise; and that promise has
been accepted!" "That's what I said!" exclaimed the old lady. "And what did she answer, madame?" "What I chose," said Christine, driven to exasperation. "Don't you
think, monsieur, that this cross-examination has lasted long enough? As far as I am concerned ..."

Raoul was afraid to let her finish her speech. He interrupted her:

"I beg your pardon for speaking as I did, mademoiselle. You know the
good intentions that make me meddle, just now, in matters which, you no
doubt think, have nothing to do with me. But allow me to tell you what
I have seen--and I have seen more than you suspect, Christine--or what
I thought I saw, for, to tell you the truth, I have sometimes been
inclined to doubt the evidence of my eyes." "Well, what did you see, sir, or think you saw?" "I saw your ecstasy AT THE SOUND OF THE VOICE, Christine:  the voice
that came from the wall or the next room to yours ... yes, YOUR
ECSTASY! And that is what makes me alarmed on your behalf. You are
under a very dangerous spell. And yet it seems that you are aware of
the imposture, because you say to-day THAT THERE IS NO ANGEL OF MUSIC! In that case, Christine, why did you follow him that time? Why did you
stand up, with radiant features, as though you were really hearing
angels? ... Ah, it is a very dangerous voice, Christine, for I myself,
when I heard it, was so much fascinated by it that you vanished before
my eyes without my seeing which way you passed! Christine, Christine,
in the name of Heaven, in the name of your father who is in Heaven now
and who loved you so dearly and who loved me too, Christine, tell us,
tell your benefactress and me, to whom does that voice belong? If you
do, we will save you in spite of yourself. Come, Christine, the name
of the man! The name of the man who had the audacity to put a ring on
your finger!" "M. de Chagny," the girl declared coldly, "you shall never know!" Thereupon, seeing the hostility with which her ward had addressed the
viscount, Mamma Valerius suddenly took Christine's part. "And, if she does love that man, Monsieur le Vicomte, even then it is
no business of yours!" "Alas, madame," Raoul humbly replied, unable to restrain his tears,
"alas, I believe that Christine really does love him! ... But it is not
only that which drives me to despair; for what I am not certain of,
madame, is that the man whom Christine loves is worthy of her love!" "It is for me to be the judge of that, monsieur!" said Christine,
looking Raoul angrily in the face. "When a man," continued Raoul, "adopts such romantic methods to entice
a young girl's affections. .."

"The man must be either a villain, or the girl a fool:  is that it?" "Christine!" "Raoul, why do you condemn a man whom you have never seen, whom no one
knows and about whom you yourself know nothing?" "Yes, Christine ... Yes ... I at least know the name that you thought
to keep from me for ever ... The name of your Angel of Music,
mademoiselle, is Erik!" Christine at once betrayed herself. She turned as white as a sheet and
stammered:  "Who told you?" "You yourself!" "How do you mean?" "By pitying him the other night, the night of the masked ball. When
you went to your dressing-room, did you not say, 'Poor Erik?'