The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📕
Description
“When I die and am in Heaven,” Christine Daaé’s father said, “I will send the Angel of Music to you.” It is with these words still in her ears years later that Christine accepts the disembodied voice that speaks to her to claim that divine title, and to give her singing lessons within her dressing room at the Paris Opera, as the fulfillment of her beloved father’s promise. And when those lessons lead her to a performance that astonishes the whole city, who could doubt but that the Angel had indeed come?
Yet there is another, more sinister presence stalking about the Opéra Garnier: the Opera Ghost. A creature who not only makes inconvenient demands—such as the exclusive use of Box Five at every performance, as well as a sizable retainer paid monthly—but who also hangs a man for wandering into the wrong part of the Opera’s cavernous cellars, and sends a chandelier plunging down onto the heads of a packed house when his demands are not met.
But is the Opéra truly host to so many supernatural phenomena, or could it be that the Angel and the Opera Ghost are in fact one and the same? And could it be also that he is far less angel than demon? And if so, will Christine realize her peril before it is too late?
Read free book «The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: Gaston Leroux
Read book online «The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📕». Author - Gaston Leroux
“First of all, Mme. Giry, I have a little question to put to you.”
“By all means, M. Richard: Mme. Giry is here to answer you.”
“Are you still on good terms with the ghost?”
“Couldn’t be better, sir; couldn’t be better.”
“Ah, we are delighted. … Look here, Mme. Giry,” said Richard, in the tone of making an important confidence. “We may just as well tell you, among ourselves … you’re no fool!”
“Why, sir,” exclaimed the box-keeper, stopping the pleasant nodding of the black feathers in her dingy bonnet, “I assure you no one has ever doubted that!”
“We are quite agreed and we shall soon understand one another. The story of the ghost is all humbug, isn’t it? … Well, still between ourselves, … it has lasted long enough.”
Mme. Giry looked at the managers as though they were talking Chinese. She walked up to Richard’s table and asked, rather anxiously:
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, you understand quite well. In any case, you’ve got to understand. … And, first of all, tell us his name.”
“Whose name?”
“The name of the man whose accomplice you are, Mme. Giry!”
“I am the ghost’s accomplice? I? … His accomplice in what, pray?”
“You do all he wants.”
“Oh! He’s not very troublesome, you know.”
“And does he still tip you?”
“I mustn’t complain.”
“How much does he give you for bringing him that envelope?”
“Ten francs.”
“You poor thing! That’s not much, is it?”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you that presently, Mme. Giry. Just now we should like to know for what extraordinary reason you have given yourself body and soul, to this ghost … Mme. Giry’s friendship and devotion are not to be bought for five francs or ten francs.”
“That’s true enough. … And I can tell you the reason, sir. There’s no disgrace about it … on the contrary.”
“We’re quite sure of that, Mme. Giry!”
“Well, it’s like this … only the ghost doesn’t like me to talk about his business.”
“Indeed?” sneered Richard.
“But this is a matter that concerns myself alone. … Well, it was in Box Five one evening, I found a letter addressed to myself, a sort of note written in red ink. I needn’t read the letter to you, sir; I know it by heart, and I shall never forget it if I live to be a hundred!”
And Mme. Giry, drawing herself up, recited the letter with touching eloquence:
Madam:
1825. Mlle. Ménétrier, leader of the ballet, became Marquise de Cussy.
1832. Mlle. Marie Taglioni, a dancer, became Comtesse Gilbert des Voisins.
1846. La Sota, a dancer, married a brother of the King of Spain.
1847. Lola Montes, a dancer, became the morganatic wife of King Louis of Bavaria and was created Countess of Landsfeld.
1848. Mlle. Maria, a dancer, became Baronne d’Herneville.
1870. Thérèsa Hessier, a dancer, married Dom Fernando, brother to the King of Portugal.
Richard and Moncharmin listened to the old woman, who, as she proceeded with the enumeration of these glorious nuptials, swelled out, took courage and, at last, in a voice bursting with pride, flung out the last sentence of the prophetic letter:
1885. Meg Giry, Empress!
Exhausted by this supreme effort, the box-keeper fell into a chair, saying:
“Gentlemen, the letter was signed, ‘Opera Ghost.’ I had heard much of the ghost, but only half believed in him. From the day when he declared that my little Meg, the flesh of my flesh, the fruit of my womb, would be empress, I believed in him altogether.”
And really it was not necessary to make a long study of Mme. Giry’s excited features to understand what could be got out of that fine intellect with the two words “ghost” and “empress.”
But who pulled the strings of that extraordinary puppet? That was the question.
“You have never seen him; he speaks to you and you believe all he says?” asked Moncharmin.
“Yes. To begin with, I owe it to him that my little Meg was promoted to be the leader of a row. I said to the ghost, ‘If she is to be empress in 1885, there is no time to lose; she must become a leader at once.’ He said, ‘Look upon it as done.’ And he had only a word to say to M. Poligny and the thing was done.”
“So you say that M. Poligny saw him!”
“No, not any more than I did; but he heard him. The ghost said a word in his ear, you know, on the evening when he left Box Five, looking so dreadfully pale.”
Moncharmin heaved a sigh. “What a business!” he groaned.
“Ah!” said Mme. Giry. “I always thought there were secrets between the ghost and M. Poligny. Anything that the ghost asked M. Poligny to do M. Poligny did. M. Poligny could refuse the ghost nothing.”
“You hear, Richard: Poligny could refuse the ghost nothing.”
“Yes, yes, I hear!” said Richard. “M. Poligny is a friend of the ghost; and, as Mme. Giry is a friend of M. Poligny, there we are! … But I don’t care a hang about M. Poligny,” he added roughly. “The only person whose fate really interests me is Mme. Giry. … Mme. Giry, do you know what is in this envelope?”
“Why, of course not,” she said.
“Well, look.”
Mme. Giry looked into the envelope with a lackluster eye, which soon recovered its brilliancy.
“Thousand-franc notes!” she cried.
“Yes, Mme. Giry, thousand-franc notes! And you knew it!”
“I, sir? I? … I swear …”
“Don’t swear, Mme. Giry! … And now I will tell you the second reason why I sent for you. Mme. Giry, I am going to have you arrested.”
The two black feathers on the dingy bonnet, which usually affected the attitude of two notes of interrogation, changed into two notes of exclamation; as for the bonnet itself, it swayed in menace on the old lady’s tempestuous chignon. Surprise, indignation, protest and dismay were furthermore displayed by little Meg’s mother in a sort of extravagant movement of offended virtue, half bound, half slide, that brought her right under the nose of M. Richard, who could not help pushing back his chair.
“Have me arrested!”
The mouth that spoke those words seemed to spit the three teeth that were left to it into Richard’s face.
M. Richard behaved like a hero. He retreated no farther. His threatening forefinger seemed already to be pointing out the keeper of Box Five to the absent magistrates.
“I am going to have you arrested, Mme. Giry, as a
Comments (0)