Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 207, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 August 1912 — THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

by Gaston Leroux

•AutJior' of* . ■■ TrtE • MYSTERY • Of • THE • YELLOW •R00M,,,7©' TrtE • PERFUME -OF -THE • LADY- IN • E>LACKiII ust.r<stion s* Jby Af-G-fle&t:nez~ C /p// £>y T/i& 3o&£xs Afe/r/V/ Co/np&syy

SYNOPSIS. Consternation Is caused on the last nlgth that the Opera is managed by u«blenne and Poligny because of the appearance of a ghost, said to have been In evidence on several previous occasions. Christine Uaae. a member oT the QP e ta company, is called upon to ml a very important part and scores a great success Count de Chagny and his brotner Raoul are among those who applaud tne singer. Raoul tries to see Christine in the dressing room, but is unable to do so and later discovers that some one is malting love to her. She emerges alone, and upon entering the room he finds tt empty. While the farewell ceremony for the retiring managers is going on, the Opera Ohost appears and informs the new tnanagers that Box No. 5 is reserved for him. Box No. 6 is sold with disastrous results. The managers receive a letter from the Opera Ghost calling attention to the error. Christine Daae writes Raoul that she has gone to visit the grave of her father. He goes also, and in the night follows her to the church. Wonderful violin music la heard. Raoul visits a graveyard. Raoul is found next morning almost frozen. Moncharmin and Richard Investigate Box No. 6 and decide to see the performance of “Faust” from front seats of that box. Carlotta, who sings the leading part in "Faust,’ is warned to give the part ' to Christine. Carlotta. refusing, loses her voice in the middle of a song and the main chandelier crashes down, killing a woman ani wounding many. Raoul searches for Christine, who has disappeared. He sees her at last, but does not speak, and later a note is received from her making an appointment for a masked ball. Raoul meets Christine at the ball. He sees a person in the disguise of Red Death. He hears her conversing with some one whom she calls Krik. Raoul visits Christine and tells her he knows the name of the unseen man whom she calls the Angel of Music. Christine and Raoul become secretly engaged prior to a polar expedition that Raoul is to make. Christine relates a strange adventure with the unseen Erik and promises to fun away with Raoul. Raoul announces his intention of marrying Christine, which displeases Philippe. In the midst of a performance the stage is enveloped in darkness and Christine disappears. 'No trace of her is found. Moncharmin and Richard behave strangely. Raoul searches madly for the missing singer. The Opera Ghost demands the first installment of his allowance. anc( when it is left at an appointed place the sum mysteriously disappears. Raoul goes in search of Christine. He meets a mysterious person known as the Persian. The Persian plans to aid Raoul in locating Christine and they gain access to a secret chamber. The two find themselves in a passageway which they expect will lead to where Christine has undoubtedly been carried by Erik.

CHAPTER XX—(Continued). “I ought to have remembered that Erik talked to me about the ratcatcher,” said the Persian. "But he never told me that he looked like that . . . and it’s funny that 1 should never have met him before. . . . Of course, Erik never comes to this part!'* "Are we very far from the lake, sir?” asked Raoul. "When shall we get there? . . . Take me to the lake, oh, take me to the lake! . . When we are at the lake, we will call out! . . . 'Christine will hear us! . . . And he will hear us, too! *. . . And, as you know him, we shall talk to him!” “Baby!” safd the Persian. "We shall never enter the house on the lake by the lake! . . . i myself have never landed on the other bank . the bank on which the house stands. . . . You have to cross the lake first . . . and It is well guarded! ... 1 fear that more than one of those men —old sceneshifters, old door-shutters —who have never been seen again were simply tempted to cross the lake. ... It is terrible. ... I myself would have been nearly killed there . . . if the monster had not recognized me in time! . . . One piece of advice, sir; never go "near the lake. . . And, above all, shut your ears If you hear the voice singing under the water, the siren’s voice!" “But then, what are we here for?” asked Raoul, in a transport of fever, impatience and rage. "If you can do nothing for Christine, at least let me die for her!" The Persian tried to calm the young man. “We have only one means of saving Christine Daae, believe me, which is to enter the house unperceived by the monster." "And is» there any hope of that, sir?” “Ah, If I had not that hope, 1 would not have come to fetch you!” “And how can one enter the house on the lake without crossing rthe lake?" "From the third cellar, from which we were so unluckily driven aafay We will go back there now. -. . . I will tell you." said the Persian, with a sudden change in his voice, "1 will tell you the exact place, sir; it is between a set piece and a discarded scene from Roi de Lahore, exactly at the spot where Joseph Buquet died. . . . Come, sir, take courage and follow me! And bold your hand at the level of your eyes! . . . But where are we?" —The Persian lit his lamp again and Bung its rays down two enormous cor/ ridort that crossed each other at right, angles. ' “We OlOTrt>e." he said, “in the part , used more particularly for the waterworks. 1 see no fire coming from the (unAMK." . Me wont in front of Raoul, seeking

his road, stopping abruptly when be was afraid of meeting some waterman. Then they had to protect themselves against the glow of a sort of underground forge, which the men were extinguishing, and at which Raoul recognized the demons whom Christine had seen at the time of her first captivity. In this way, they gradually arrived beneath the huge cellars below the They must at this time have been at the very bottom of the "tub” and at an extremely great depth, when we remember that the earth was dug out at fifty feet below the water that lay under the whole of that part of Paris. The Persian touched a partitionwall and said: “If I am not mistaken, this is a wall that might easily belong to the house on the lake." He was striking a partition-wall of the "tub.” and perhaps it would be as well for the reader to know how the bottom of the partition-walls of the tub were built. In order to prevent the water surrounding the buildingoperations from remaining In immediate contact with the walls supporting the whole of the theatrical machinery, the architect was obliged to build a double case in every direction. The work of constructing this double case took a whole year. It was the wall of the first inner case that the Persian struck when speaking to Raoul of the house on the lake. To any one understanding the architecture of the edifice, the Persian's action would seem to indicate that Erik’s mysterious house had been built in \he double case, formed of a thick wall constructed as an embankment or dam, then of a brick wall, a tremendous layer of cement and another wall several yards in thickness.

At the Persian’s words, Raoul flung himself against the wall and listened eagerly. Blit he heard nothing . . nothing . except distant steps sounding on the floor of the upper portions of the theater. The Persian darkened his lantern again. "Look out!” he said. "Keep your hand up! And silence! For we shall try another, way of getting in." And he led him to the little staircase by which they had come down lately. They went up, stopping at each step, peering into the darkness and the silence, till they came to theAhird cellar. Here the Persian motioned to Raoul to go on his 'knees; and, in this way, crawling on both knees and one hand —for the other hand was held in the position indicated —they reached the end wall. Against this wall stood a large discarded scene from the Roi de Lahore. Close to this scene was a set piece. Between the seene and the set piece there was just room for a body . . for a body which one day w r as found hanging there. The body of Joseph Buquet. The Persian, still kneeling, stopped and listened. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate and looked at Raoul; then he turned his eyes upward, toward the second cellar, which sent down the faint glimmer of a lantern, through a cranny between two boards. This glimmer seemed to trouble the Persian. At last, be tossed his head and made up his mind to act. He shipped between the set piece and the scene from the Roi de Lahore, with Raoul close upon his heels. With his free hand, the Persian felt the wall. Raoul saw him bear heavily upon the wall, just as be had pressed against the wall In Christine’s dressing-room. Then a stone gave way, leaving a hole in the. waiL ——_ —_ This time, the Persian took hfß pistol from his pocket and made a sign to Raoul to do as he did. He cocked the pistoL r And, resolutely, still on his knees, he wiggled through the hole in the wall. Raoul, who had wished to pass first, had to be content to follow him. The hole was very narrow. The Persian stopped almost at once. Raoul heard him feeling the stones around him. Then the Persian took out his dark lantern again, stooped forward, examined something beneath hife and immediately extinguished his lantern. Raoul heard him say, in a whisper: “We shall have to drop a few yards, without making a noise; take off your boots.” The Persian handed his own shoes to Raoul. "Put them outside the wall,” he safd. “We then find them there when we leave." He crawled e little farther on his knees, then turned right round and said: “I am going to hang by my hands from the edge of the stone and let myself drop into his bouse. You must do exactly the same. Do not be

afraid. I*wlll catch you In my arms." Raoul soon heard a dull sound, evidently produced by the fall of the Persian, and then dropped down. He felt himself clasped In the Persian’s arms. “Hush!” said the Persian. And they stood motionless, listening. j The darknee was thick around them, the silence heavy and terrible. Then the Persian began to make play with the dark lantern again, turning the rays over their heads, looking for the hole through which they had come, and falling to And it. “Oh!” he said. “The stone has closed of Itself !” — —» — And the light of the lantern swept down the over the floor. The Persian stooped and picked up something, a sort of cord, which he examined for a second and flung away with horror. ‘The Punjab lasso!” he muttered. “What is It?” asked Raoul. The Persian shivered. “It might very well be the rope by which the man was banged, and which was looked for so long.” And, suddenly seized with fresh anxiety, he moved the little red disk of his lantern over the walls In this wav he lit up a carious thing: the trunk of a tree, JwJficß seemed still quite alive, with Its' leaves; and the branches of the tree ran right up the walls and disappeared in„the celling. Because of the smallness of the luminous disk. It was difficult at first “to make out the appearance of things: they saw a corner of a branch . . . and a leaf ... and another leaf . . . and, next to it, nothing at all, nothing but the ray of light that seemed to reflect itself. . . . Raoul passed his hand over that nothing, over that reflection. "Hullo!” he said. “The wall Is a looking-glass! ” "Yes, a looking-glass!” said the Persian, In a tone of deep emotion. And, passing the hand that held the pistol over hid moist forehead, he added, “We have dropped Into the torture-chamber!” * ' Wbat the Persian knew of this tor-ture-chamber and what there befell him and his companion shall be told iiPhir own words, as set down In a manuscript which he left behind him, and which 1 copy verbatim. CHAPTER XXI. Interesting and Instructive Vicissitudes of a Persian in the Cellars of the Opera—The Persian’s Narrative. It was the first time that I entered the house on the lake. 1 had often

water, for there was no doubt In my mind that the singing came from water Itself. By this time, I was alone In the boat lh the middle of the lake; the voice-—for it was now distinctly a voice—was beside me, on the water. 1 leaned over, leaned still farther. The lake was perfectly calm, and a moonbeam that passed through the air hole In the Rue Scribe showed me absolutely nothing on its surfice, which was smooth and black as Ink. I shook my ears to get rid of a possible humming; but I Boon had to accept the fact that there was no bumming In the ears so harmonious as the singing whisper that followed and now attracted me. Had 1 been inclined to superstition, I should have certainly thought that 1 had to do with some siren whose business it was to confound the traveler who should venture on the waters of the house on the lake. Fortunately, l come from a country where we are too fond of fantastic things not to know them through and through; and I had no doubt but that 1 was face to face with some new Invention or Erik’s. But this invention was so perfect that, as 1 leaned out of the boat. I was impelled less by a desire to discover its trick than to enjoy its charm; and I leaned out. ieandb out until I almost overturned the boat. Suddenly, two monstrous arms Issued from the bosom of the waters and seized me by the neck, dragging me down to the depths with irresistible force. 1 should certainly have been lost, if I had not time to give a cry by which Erik knew me. For it was he; and, instead of drowning me, as was certainly his first intention, be swam with me and laid me gently on the bank: “How Imprudent you are!" he said, as he stood before me, dripping with water. “Why try to enter my house? I never invited you! I don’t want you there, nor anybody! Did you save my life only to make it unbearable to me? However great the service you rendered him, Erik may end by torgetting it; and you know that nothing can restrain Erik, not even" Erik himself.” He spoke, but I had now no other . wish than to know what 1 already called the trick of the siren. He satisfied rhy curiosity, for Erik, who Is a real monster —I have seen him at work in Persia, alas —is also, in cei# tain respects, a regular child, vain and self-conceited, and there Is nothing he loves so much, after astonishing people, as to prove all the really miraculous ingenuity of his mind. He laughed and showed me a long reed. “It’s the silliest trick you ever saw,”

begged the “trap-door lover,” as we used to call Erik In my country, to open Its mysterious doors to me. He always refused. I made very. tnany attempts, but In vain, to obtain admittance. Watch him as I might, after I first learned that he had taken up his permanent abode at the opera, the darkness was always too thick to enable me to see how he worked the door In the wall on the lake. One day, when I thought myself alone, 1 stepped into the boat and rowed toward that part of the wall through which I had seen Erik disappear, it Was then that I came into contact with the siren who guarded the approach and whose charm was very nearly fatal to me. I . bad no sooner put off from the brink than the silence -amid which 1 floated on the water .was disturbed by a sort of whispered singing; that hov* ered all around me. It was half breath, half music; It rose softly from the waters of the lake ; and I was surrounded by It through I knew not what artifice. It followed me, moved with me and was so soft that It did not alarm me. On the contrary, In my longing to approach the souroe of that sweet and enticing harmony, 1 leaned out of my little boat over the

he said, “but it’s very useful for breathing and singing In the water. I learned it from the Tonkin pirates, who are able to remain hidden for hours in the beds of the rivers." I spoke to him severely. “It’s a trick that nearly killed me!" I said. “And it may have been fatal

to others! You know what you promised me, Erik? No more inurders!" “Have I really committed murders ?’’ he asked, putting on hia most amiable air. “Wretched man!" I cried. “Have you forgotten the rosy hours of Mazenderan?” "Yes,” he replied, In a sadder tone, "I prefer to forget them. I used to make the little sultana laugh, though!” “All that belongs to the past," 1 dfr dared, “but there Is the present . • and you are responsible to me for the present, because, If 1 had wished, there would have been none at ail for you. Remepiber that, Erik; 1 saved your life!” And I took advantage of the. turn of conversation to speak to him of something that had tong been on my mind: “Erik,” I asked. “Erik, swear that . . "What?” he retorted. “You know I never keep my oaths. Oaths are made to catch gulls with." "Tell me . . . you can tell me, at any rate. . , “Well?” “Well, the chandelier . . . tne chandelier, Erik?” "What about the chandelier?" “You know what I mean." - , - “Oh,” he sniggered, "I don’t mind telling you about the chandelier! . . . It wasn’t I! . . . The chandelier was very old and worn." When Erik laughed, he was more terrible than ever. He jumped into the boat, chuckling so horribly that 1 could not help trembling. “Very old and worn, my dear daroga! Very old and worn, the chandelier! ... It fell of itself! . . . It came down with a smash! . And now, daroga, take my advice and go and dry yourself, or you’ll catch a col<i in the head! . . And never get Into my boat again. . . . And, whatever you do, don't try to enter my house; I’m not always there . . . daroga! And I should be sorry to have to dedicate my Requiem Mass |o you!” So saying, swinging to and fro, like a monkey, and still chuckling, he pushed off and soon disappeared in the darkness of the lake. that day, 1 gave up all thought of penetrating into his house by the lake. That entrance was obviously too well guarded, especially since be had learned that I knew about It But I felt that there must be another entrance, for I had often seen Erik disappear in the third cellar, when l was watching him, though I could not imagine how. Ever since I had discovered Erik installed in the opera, I lived in a perpetual terror of his horrible fancies, not in so far as I was concerned, but 1 dreaded everything for others. And whenever some accident, some fatal event happened, I always thought to myself, “I should not be surprised If that were Erik," even as others used to say, “It’s the ghost!” 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! v

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

“The Punjab Lasso!” He Muttered.