the carriages of Mlle. Sorelli, which could not find room in
the Cour de l'Administration; of Carlotta; and of your brother, M. le
Comte de Chagny..."

"Very likely..."

"What is certain is that, though your carriage and Sorelli's and
Carlotta's are still there, by the Rotunda pavement, M. le Comte de
Chagny's carriage is gone."

"This has nothing to say to ..."

"I beg your pardon. Was not M. le Comte opposed to your marriage with
Mlle. Daae?"

"That is a matter that only concerns the family."

"You have answered my question: he was opposed to it ... and that was
why you were carrying Christine Daae out of your brother's reach...
Well, M. de Chagny, allow me to inform you that your brother has been
smarter than you! It is he who has carried off Christine Daae!"

"Oh, impossible!" moaned Raoul, pressing his hand to his heart. "Are
you sure?"

"Immediately after the artist's disappearance, which was procured by
means which we have still to ascertain, he flung into his carriage,
which drove right across Paris at a furious pace."

"Across Paris?" asked poor Raoul, in a hoarse voice. "What do you mean
by across Paris?"

"Across Paris and out of Paris ... by the Brussels road."

"Oh," cried the young man, "I shall catch them!" And he rushed out of
the office.

"And bring her back to us!" cried the commisary gaily ... "Ah, that's
a trick worth two of the Angel of Music's!"

And, turning to his audience, M. Mifroid delivered a little lecture on
police methods.

"I don't know for a moment whether M. le Comte de Chagny has really
carried Christine Daae off or not ... but I want to know and I believe
that, at this moment, no one is more anxious to inform us than his
brother ... And now he is flying in pursuit of him! He is my chief
auxiliary! This, gentlemen, is the art of the police, which is
believed to be so complicated and which, nevertheless appears so simple
as soon its you see that it consists in getting your work done by
people who have nothing to do with the police."

But M. le Commissaire de Police Mifroid would not have been quite so
satisfied with himself if he had known that the rush of his rapid
emissary was stopped at the entrance to the very first corridor. A
tall figure blocked Raoul's way.

"Where are you going so fast, M. de Chagny?" asked a voice.

Raoul impatiently raised his eyes and recognized the astrakhan cap of
an hour ago. He stopped:

"It's you!" he cried, in a fev