Hiding in the lumber-room next to the young prima donna's dressing-room, I listened to wonderful musical displays that evidently flung Christine into marvelous ecstasy; but, all the same, I would never have thought that Erik's voice--which was loud as thunder or soft as angels' voices, at will--could have made her forget his ugliness.

I understood all when I learned that Christine had not yet seen him! I had occasion to go to the dressing-room and, remembering the lessons he had once given me, I had no difficulty in discovering the trick that made the wall with the mirror swing round and I ascertained the means of hollow bricks and so on--by which he made his voice carry to Christine as though she heard it close beside her.

In this way also I discovered the road that led to the well and the dungeon--the Communists' dungeon--and also the trap-door that enabled Erik to go straight to the cellars below the stage.
A few days later, what was not my amazement to learn by my own eyes and ears that Erik and Christine Daae saw each other and to catch the monster stooping over the little well, in the Communists' road and sprinkling the forehead of Christine Daae, who had fainted.

A white horse, the horse out of the PROFETA, which had disappeared from the stables under the Opera, was standing quietly beside them.

I showed myself.