Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the twenty-third chapter of The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux.

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Take a look in a book and let's see what we can find.

Take a chapter by chapter, one by one at a time so many adventures and mountains we can climb take it word for word, line by line we fight at a time.

Video welcome to Bite at a Time Books, where we read you your favorite classics one byte at a time.

My name is Brie Carlyle and I love to read and wanted to share my passion with listeners like you.

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Wherever you listen to podcasts today, we'll be continuing The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Laraux.

Chapter 23 the Tortures begin.

The Persian's narrative continued.

The voice repeated angrily.

What have you done with my bag?

So it was to take my bag that you asked me to release you.

They heard hurried steps, Christine running back to the Louis Philippe room as though to seek shelter on the other side of our wall.

What are you running away for?

Asked the furious voice, which had followed her.

Give me back my bag, will you?

Don't you know that it is the bag of life and death?

Listen to me, Eric, sighed the girl, as it is settled that we are to live together.

What difference can it make to you?

You know there are only two keys in it, said the monster.

What do you want to do?

I want to look at this room which I've never seen and which you have always kept from me.

It's woman's curiosity, she said in a tone which she tried to render playful.

But the trick was too childish for Eric to be taken in by it.

I don't like curious women, he retorted.

And you had better remember the story of Bluebeard.

And be careful.

Come.

Give me back my bag.

Give me back my bag.

Leave the key alone, will you, you inquisitive little thing?

And he chuckled.

While Christine gave a cry of pain, eric had evidently recovered the bag from her.

At that moment, the Vy count could not help uttering an exclamation of impotent rage.

Why, what's that?

Said the monster.

Did you hear, Christine?

No, no, replied the poor girl.

I heard nothing.

I thought I heard a cry.

A cry?

Are you going mad, Eric.

Whom do you expect to give a cry in this house?

I cried out because you hurt me.

I heard nothing.

I don't like the way you said that.

You're trembling.

You're quite excited.

You're lying.

That was a cry.

There was a cry.

There's someone in the torture chamber.

I understand now.

There's no one in there, Eric.

I understand.

No one.

The man you want to marry, perhaps?

I don't want to marry anybody.

You know I don't.

Another nasty chuckle.

Well, it won't take long to find out.

Christine, my love, we need not open the door to see what is happening in the torture chamber.

Would you like to see?

Would you like to see?

Look here.

If there is someone, if there is really someone there, you will see the invisible window light up at the top, near the ceiling.

We need only draw the black curtain and put out the light in here.

There.

That's it.

Let's put out the light.

You're not afraid of the dark when you're with your little husband.

Then we heard Christine's voice of anguish.

No, I'm frightened, I tell you.

I'm afraid of the dark.

I don't care about that room now.

You're always frightening me like a child with your torture chamber.

And so I became inquisitive.

But I don't care about it now.

Not a bit.

Not a bit.

And that which I feared above all things began automatically.

We were suddenly flooded with light.

Yes.

On our side of the wall, everything seemed to glow.

The vaikoun stishagnee was so much taken aback that he staggered, and the angry voice roared, I told you there was someone.

Do you see the window now?

The lighted window right up there.

The man behind the wall can't see it.

But you shall go up the folding steps.

That is what they are there for.

You've often asked me to tell you.

And now you know they are there to give a peep into the torture chamber.

You inquisitive little thing.

What tortures?

Who is being tortured?

Eric?

Eric, say you are only trying to frighten me.

Say it if you love me, eric, there are no tortures, are there?

Go and look at the little window, dear.

I do not know if the VI count heard the girl's swooning voice, for he was too much occupied by the astounding spectacle that now appeared before his distracted gaze.

As for me, I had seen that sight too often through the little window at the time of the rosy hours of mazedran.

And I cared only for what was being said next door, seeking for a hint how to act, what resolution to take.

Go and peep through the little window.

Tell me what he looks like.

We heard the steps being dragged against the wall.

Up with you.

No, no, I will go up myself, dear.

Oh, very well, I will go up.

Let me go.

Oh, my darling.

My darling.

How sweet of you.

How nice of you to save me the exertion at my age.

Tell me what he looks like.

At that moment we distinctly heard these words above our heads there's no one there, dear.

No one?

Are you sure there is no one?

Why, of course not.

No one.

Well, that's all right.

What's the matter, Christine?

You're not going to faint, are you?

As, there's no one there.

Here, come down there.

Pull yourself together.

As.

There's no one there.

But how do you like the landscape?

Oh, very much.

There, that's better.

You're better now, are you not?

That's alright.

You're better.

No excitement.

And what a funny house, isn't it?

With landscapes like that in it.

Yes, it's like the museum Greven.

But say, Eric, there are no tortures in there.

What a fright you gave me.

Why, as there is no one there.

Did you design that room?

It's very handsome.

You're a great artist, Eric.

Yes, a great artist in my own line.

But tell me, Eric, why did you call that room the torture chamber?

Oh, it's very simple.

First of all, what did you see?

I saw a forest.

And what is in a forest?

Trees.

And what is in a tree?

Birds.

Did you see any birds?

No, I did not see any birds.

Well, what did you see?

Think you saw branches.

And what are the branches?

Ask the terrible voice.

There's a gibbet.

That is why I call my wood the torture chamber.

You see, it's all a joke.

I never express myself like other people, but I am very tired of it.

I'm sick and tired of having a forest and a torture chamber in my house.

And of living like a mountain bank in a house with a false bottom.

I'm tired of it.

I want to have a nice, quiet flat with ordinary doors and windows and a wife inside it like anybody else.

A wife whom I could love and take out on Sundays and keep amused on weekdays.

Here, shall I show you some card tricks?

Now we'll help us to pass a few minutes while waiting for 11:00 tomorrow evening.

My dear little Christine, are you listening to me?

Tell me you love me.

No, you don't love me.

But no matter, you will.

Once you could not look at my mask because you knew what was behind.

And now you don't mind looking at it and you forget what is behind.

One can get used to everything if one wishes.

Plenty of young people who did not care for each other before marriage have adored each other since.

Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about.

But you would have lots of fun with me.

For instance, I'm the greatest ventriloquist that ever lived.

I am the first ventriloquist in the world.

You're laughing.

Perhaps you don't believe me.

Listen, the wretch who really was the first ventriloquist in the world was only trying to divert the child's attention from the torture chamber.

But it was a stupid scheme.

Her Christine thought of nothing but us.

She repeatedly besaught him in the gentlest tones which she could assume.

Put out the light in the little window.

Eric, do put out the light in the little window.

For she saw that this light, which appeared so suddenly and of which the monster had spoken in so threatening a voice, must mean something terrible.

One thing must have pacified her for a moment, and that was seeing the two of us behind the wall in the midst of that resplendent light, alive and well.

But she would certainly have felt much easier if the light had been put out.

Meantime, the other had already begun to play the ventriloquist.

He said, here, I raised my mask a little.

Oh, only a little.

You see my lips, such lips as I have.

They're not moving.

My mouth is closed.

Such mouth as I have.

And yet you hear my voice.

Where will you have it?

In your left ear?

In your right ear?

In the table?

In those little ebony boxes on the mantelpiece.

Listen, dear.

It's in the little box on the right of the mantelpiece.

What does it say?

Shall I turn the scorpion?

And now crack.

What does it say in the little box on the left?

Shall I turn the grasshopper?

And now crack.

Here it is in the little leather bag.

What does it say?

I am the little bag of life and death.

And now crack.

It is in Carlota's throat, in Carlota's golden throat, in Carlota's crystal throat as I live.

What does it say?

It says it's I Mr.

Toad it's I singing I feel without alarm gruck with its melody and wind me gruck.

And now crack.

It is on a chair in the ghost's box.

And it says madame Carlota is singing tonight to bring the chandelier down.

And now crack.

AHA.

Where's Eric's voice?

Now listen, Christine darling, listen.

It is behind the door of the torture chamber.

Listen.

It's myself in the torture chamber.

And what do I say?

I say, woe to them that have a nose, a real nose, and come to look round the torture chamber.

AHA.

AHA.

Oh.

The ventriloquist's.

Terrible voice.

It was everywhere.

Everywhere.

It passed through the little invisible window, through the walls.

It ran around us, between us.

Eric was there, speaking to us.

We made a movement as though to fling ourselves upon him.

But already swifter, more fleeting than the voice of the echo, eric s voice had leaped back behind the wall.

Soon we heard nothing more at all, for this is what happened.

Eric.

Eric.

Said christine's Voice You tire me with your voice.

Don't go on, Eric.

Isn't it very hot here?

Oh, yes, replied Eric's voice.

The heat is unendurable.

But what does this mean?

The wall is really getting quite hot.

The wall is burning.

I'll tell you, Christine dear, it is because of the forest next door.

Well, what is that to do with it?

The forest.

Why didn't you see that it was an African forest?

And the monster laughed so loudly and hideously that we could no longer distinguish.

Christine Supplicating cries the Vy Count Deshagni shouted and banged against the walls like a madman.

I could not restrain him.

But we heard nothing except the monster's laughter.

And the monster himself can have heard nothing else.

And then there was the sound of a body falling on the floor and being dragged along.

And a door slammed.

And then nothing.

Nothing more around us saved the scorching silence of the south in the heart of a tropical forest.

Thank you for joining Bite at a Time Books today while we read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Brie Carlyle and I hope you come back tomorrow for the next bite of The Phantom of the Opera.

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