`Don't touch the scorpion!' I said.

`Here he comes!' cried Christine. `I hear him! Here he is!'

We heard his steps approaching the Louis-Philippe room. He came up to Christine, but did not speak. Then I raised my voice:

`Erik! It is I! Do you know me?'

With extraordinary calmness, he at once replied:

`So you are not dead in there? Well, then, see that you keep quiet.'

I tried to speak, but he said coldly:

`Not a word, daroga, or I shall blow everything up.' And he added, `The honor rests with mademoiselle.... Mademoiselle has not touched the scorpion` - how deliberately he spoke! - 'mademoiselle has not touched the grasshopper` - with that composure! - 'but it is not too late to do the right thing. There, I open the caskets without a key, for I am a trap-door lover and I open and shut what I please and as I please. I open the little ebony caskets: mademoiselle, look at the little dears inside. Aren't they pretty? If you turn the grasshopper, mademoiselle, we shall all be blown up. There is enough gun-powder under our feet to blow up a whole quarter of Paris. If you turn the scorpion, mademoiselle, all that powder will be soaked and drowned. Mademoiselle, to celebrate our wedding, you shall make a very handsome present to a few hundred Parisians who are at this moment applauding a poor masterpiece of Meyerbeer's ... you shall make them a present of their lives.... For, with your own fair hands, you shall turn the scorpion.... And merrily, merrily, we will be married!'

A pause; and then:

`If, in two minutes, mademoiselle, you have not turned the scorpion, I shall turn the grasshopper ... and the grasshopper, I tell you, hops jolly high!'

The terrible silence began anew. The Vicomte de Chagny, realizing that there was nothing left to do but pray, went down on his knees and prayed. As for me, my blood beat so fiercely that I had to take my heart in both hands, lest it should burst. At last, we heard Erik's voice:

`The two minutes are past.... Good-by, mademoiselle.... Hop, grasshopper! `Erik,' cried Christine, `do you swear to me, monster, do you swear to me that the scorpion is the one to turn?

`Yes, to hop at our wedding.'

`Ah, you see! You said, to hop!'

`At our wedding, ingenuous child! ... The scorpion opens the ball.... But that will do! ... You won't have the scorpion? Then I turn the grasshopper!'

`Erik!'

`Enough!'

I was crying out in concert with Christine. M. de Chagny was still on his knees, praying.

`Erik! I have turned the scorpion!'

Oh, the second through which we passed!

Waiting! Waiting to find ourselves in fragments, amid the roar and the ruins!