The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📕

the door behind them and warned him, in a whisper, to remain at the back of the box and on no account to show himself. Raoul took off his mask. Christine kept hers on. And, when Raoul was about to ask her to remove it, he was surprised to see her put her ear to the partition and listen eagerly for a sound outside. Then she opened the door ajar, looked out into the corridor and, in a low voice, said:

“He must have gone up higher.” Suddenly she exclaimed: “He is coming down again!”

She tried to close the door, but Raoul prevented her; for he had seen, on the top step of the staircase that led to the floor above, a red foot, followed by another⁠ ⁠… and slowly, majestically, the whole scarlet dress of Red Death met his eyes. And he once more saw the death’s head of Perros-Guirec.

“It’s he!” he exclaimed. “This time, he shall not escape me!⁠ ⁠…”

But Christine had slammed the door at the moment when Raoul was on the point of rushing out. He tried to push her aside.

“Whom do you mean by ‘he’?” she asked, in a changed voice. “Who shall not escape you?”

Raoul tried to overcome the girl’s resistance by force, but she repelled him with a strength which he would not have suspected in her. He understood, or thought he understood, and at once lost his temper.

“Who?” he repeated angrily. “Why, he, the man who hides behind that hideous mask of death!⁠ ⁠… The evil genius of the churchyard at Perros!⁠ ⁠… Red Death!⁠ ⁠… In a word, madam, your friend⁠ ⁠… your Angel of Music!⁠ ⁠… But I shall snatch off his mask, as I shall snatch off my own; and, this time, we shall look each other in the face, he and I, with no veil and no lies between us; and I shall know whom you love and who loves you!”

He burst into a mad laugh, while Christine gave a disconsolate moan behind her velvet mask. With a tragic gesture, she flung out her two arms, which fixed a barrier of white flesh against the door.

“In the name of our love, Raoul, you shall not pass!⁠ ⁠…”

He stopped. What had she said?⁠ ⁠… In the name of their love?⁠ ⁠… Never before had she confessed that she loved him. And yet she had had opportunities enough.⁠ ⁠… Pooh, her only object was to gain a few seconds!⁠ ⁠… She wished to give the Red Death time to escape.⁠ ⁠… And, in accents of childish hatred, he said:

“You lie, madam, for you do not love me and you have never loved me! What a poor fellow I must be to let you mock and flout me as you have done! Why did you give me every reason for hope, at Perros⁠ ⁠… for honest hope, madam, for I am an honest man and I believed you to be an honest woman, when your only intention was to deceive me! Alas, you have deceived us all! You have taken a shameful advantage of the candid affection of your benefactress herself, who continues to believe in your sincerity while you go about the Opera ball with Red Death!⁠ ⁠… I despise you!⁠ ⁠…”

And he burst into tears. She allowed him to insult her. She thought of but one thing, to keep him from leaving the box.

“You will beg my pardon, one day, for all those ugly words, Raoul, and when you do I shall forgive you!”

He shook his head. “No, no, you have driven me mad! When I think that I had only one object in life: to give my name to an opera wench!”

“Raoul!⁠ ⁠… How can you?”

“I shall die of shame!”

“No, dear, live!” said Christine’s grave and changed voice. “And⁠ ⁠… goodbye. Goodbye, Raoul⁠ ⁠…”

The boy stepped forward, staggering as he went. He risked one more sarcasm:

“Oh, you must let me come and applaud you from time to time!”

“I shall never sing again, Raoul!⁠ ⁠…”

“Really?” he replied, still more satirically. “So he is taking you off the stage: I congratulate you!⁠ ⁠… But we shall meet in the Bois, one of these evenings!”

“Not in the Bois nor anywhere, Raoul: you shall not see me again⁠ ⁠…”

“May one ask at least to what darkness you are returning?⁠ ⁠… For what hell are you leaving, mysterious lady⁠ ⁠… or for what paradise?”

“I came to tell you, dear, but I can’t tell you now⁠ ⁠… you would not believe me! You have lost faith in me, Raoul; it is finished!”

She spoke in such a despairing voice that the lad began to feel remorse for his cruelty.

“But look here!” he cried. “Can’t you tell me what all this means!⁠ ⁠… You are free, there is no one to interfere with you.⁠ ⁠… You go about Paris.⁠ ⁠… You put on a domino to come to the ball.⁠ ⁠… Why do you not go home?⁠ ⁠… What have you been doing this past fortnight?⁠ ⁠… What is this tale about the Angel of Music, which you have been telling Mamma Valérius? Someone may have taken you in, played upon your innocence. I was a witness of it myself, at Perros⁠ ⁠… but you know what to believe now! You seem to me quite sensible, Christine. You know what you are doing.⁠ ⁠… And meanwhile Mamma Valérius lies waiting for you at home and appealing to your ‘good genius!’⁠ ⁠… Explain yourself, Christine, I beg of you! Anyone might have been deceived as I was. What is this farce?”

Christine simply took off her mask and said: “Dear, it is a tragedy!”

Raoul now saw her face and could not restrain an exclamation of surprise and terror. The fresh complexion of former days was gone. A mortal pallor covered those features, which he had known so charming and so gentle, and sorrow had furrowed them with pitiless lines and traced dark and unspeakably sad shadows under her eyes.

“My dearest! My dearest!” he moaned, holding out his arms. “You promised to forgive me⁠ ⁠…”

“Perhaps!⁠ ⁠… Some day, perhaps!” she said, resuming her mask; and she went away, forbidding him, with a gesture, to follow her.

He tried to disobey her; but she turned round and repeated