" How often have I not heard
people utter that phrase with a smile! Poor devils! If they had known
that the ghost existed in the flesh, I swear they would not have
laughed!

Although Erik announced to me very solemnly that he had changed and
that he had become the most virtuous of men SINCE HE WAS LOVED FOR
HIMSELF--a sentence that, at first, perplexed me most terribly--I could
not help shuddering when I thought of the monster. His horrible,
unparalleled and repulsive ugliness put him without the pale of
humanity; and it often seemed to me that, for this reason, he no longer
believed that he had any duty toward the human race. The way in which
he spoke of his love affairs only increased my alarm, for I foresaw the
cause of fresh and more hideous tragedies in this event to which he
alluded so boastfully.

On the other hand, I soon discovered the curious moral traffic
established between the monster and Christine Daae. Hiding in the
lumber-room next to the young prima donna's dressing-room, I listened
to wonderful musical displays that evidently flung Christine into
marvelous ecstasy; but, all the same, I would never have thought that
Erik's voice--which was loud as thunder or soft as angels' voices, at
will--could have made her forget his ugliness. I understood all when I
learned that Christine had not yet seen him! I had occasion to go to
the dressing-room and, remembering the lessons he had once given me, I
had no difficulty in discovering the trick that made the wall with the
mirror swing round and I ascertained the means of hollow bricks and so
on--by which he made his voice carry to Christine as though she heard
it close beside her. In this way also I discovered the road that led
to the well and the dungeon--the Communists' dungeon--and also the
trap-door that enabled Erik to go straight to the cellars below the
stage.

A few days later, what was not my amazement to learn by my own eyes and
ears that Erik and Christine Daae saw each other and to catch the
monster stooping over the little well, in the Communists' road and
sprinkling the forehead of Christine Daae, who had fainted. A white
horse, the horse out of the PROFETA, which had disappeared from the
stables under the Opera, was standing quietly beside them. I showed
myself. It was terrible. I saw sparks fly from those yellow eyes and,
before I had time to say a word, I received a blow on the head that
stunned me.

When I came to myself, Erik,