e gave rise to any amount of whispering behind the fans.
Christine Daae met with a rather cold reception. That special audience
could not forgive her for aiming so high.

The singer noticed this unfavorable attitude of a portion of the house
and was confused by it.

The regular frequenters of the Opera, who pretended to know the truth
about the viscount's love-story, exchanged significant smiles at
certain passages in Margarita's part; and they made a show of turning
and looking at Philippe de Chagny's box when Christine sang:

"I wish I could but know who was he
That addressed me,
If he was noble, or, at least, what his name is."

The count sat with his chin on his hand and seemed to pay no attention
to these manifestations. He kept his eyes fixed on the stage; but his
thoughts appeared to be far away.

Christine lost her self-assurance more and more. She trembled. She
felt on the verge of a breakdown ... Carolus Fonta wondered if she was
ill, if she could keep the stage until the end of the Garden Act. In
the front of the house, people remembered the catastrophe that had
befallen Carlotta at the end of that act and the historic "co-ack"
which had momentarily interrupted her career in Paris.

Just then, Carlotta made her entrance in a box facing the stage, a
sensational entrance. Poor Christine raised her eyes upon this fresh
subject of excitement. She recognized her rival. She thought she saw
a sneer on her lips. That saved her. She forgot everything, in order
to triumph once more.

From that moment the prima donna sang with all her heart and soul. She
tried to surpass all that she had done till then; and she succeeded.
In the last act when she began the invocation to the angels, she made
all the members of the audience feel as though they too had wings.

In the center of the amphitheater a man stood up and remained standing,
facing the singer. It was Raoul.

"Holy angel, in Heaven blessed ..."

And Christine, her arms outstretched, her throat filled with music, the
glory of her hair falling over her bare shoulders, uttered the divine
cry:

"My spirit longs with thee to rest!"

It was at that moment that the stage was suddenly plunged in darkness.
It happened so quickly that the spectators hardly had time to utter a
sound of stupefaction, for the gas at once lit up the stage again. But
Christine Daae was no longer there!

What had become of her? What was that mir