To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? Please do keep it brief, I hate long-winded speeches.” Raoul gulped, regaining the wind that had been knocked out of him.
“No, stop!” The figure froze, dropping the burning music, before rushing forward to pin the Vicomte against the wall. Before he could stop himself, Raoul leaped from his hiding place. He watched as the figure crumpled the music and held it to the nearest candle. How could evil stir his soul like this? He rounded a corner, and, as his eyes adjusted to the flickering candlelight, made out a tall, black figure gathering sheet music. Raoul walked ponderously towards the noise, thinking that, if this was indeed the Phantom playing, then he could not be evil. He rose slowly, hearing the pedals on the organ rise to their original positions. In all his days, he had never been privileged to be witness to something so beautiful, so personal. Raoul himself was shaken as well, to his very core in fact. The song was drawing to a forlorn close, dwindling down to almost nothing before ending with a single chord played so loudly that the water rippled and the boat shook. He abandoned the paddle and let the boat slide up to dry land, sitting down in the boat to simply listen. He pressed on, feeling the bottom of the boat beginning to scrape against some kind of shore. Raoul nearly dropped to his knees with the force of it if this truly was the Phantom playing, then he was an absolute musical genius. The song hit a dramatic high note, but there was no triumph in it, only pain. Raoul blew out his lantern, keeping his eyes fixed on the steadily growing source of light. As he glided through the eerie stillness, he noticed flickering lights in the distance, their reflections like fairies dancing on the water. He stepped into the boat and pushed off, using the long paddle to guide himself towards the music. The organ rang out from a distance, beckoning him ever closer. The song tugged at Raoul’s heart, distracting him from the darkness that pressed in on every side.Īt last, he came to a boat that sat on the edge of a vast underground lake. It had begun very loudly, then dropped off to a low, murmuring undercurrent of notes, like a fast-flowing river that contained deadly currents beneath its seemingly calm surface. He started moving once more, steps a little quicker, the sound of his approach obscured by the grandiose song of the organ.
There was no doubt in the Vicomte’s mind that the Phantom was real, but he highly doubted that anyone, man or phantom, could simultaneously play the organ and supply it with air.
But certainly that was impossible even if there were an organ stored down here, it would have to have someone at the bellows to produce a sound. Another sound rang out, and Raoul recognized it as that of a church organ. He stopped, heart pounding against his ribcage. This was, he had long ago surmised, no ordinary darkness.Ī sudden noise rang out, and Raoul jumped, lantern casting frightening shadows on the wall. Though the lantern shone fiercely, the darkness seemed to swallow it whole mere feet from the Vicomte. Raoul de Chagny crept through the darkness of the basement of the Palais Garnier, the hand holding his lantern kept steadily at the level of his eyes.
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