"Send for the inspector," said Richard to his secretary, who had
already read the report and marked it with blue pencil.
M. Remy, the secretary, had foreseen the order and called the inspector
at once.
"Tell us what happened," said Richard bluntly.
The inspector began to splutter and referred to the report.
"Well, but what were those people laughing at?" asked Moncharmin.
"They must have been dining, sir, and seemed more inclined to lark
about than to listen to good music. The moment they entered the box,
they came out again and called the box-keeper, who asked them what they
wanted. They said, 'Look in the box: there's no one there, is there?'
'No,' said the woman. 'Well,' said they, 'when we went in, we heard a
voice saying THAT THE BOX WAS TAKEN!'"
M. Moncharmin could not help smiling as he looked at M. Richard; but M.
Richard did not smile. He himself had done too much in that way in his
time not to recognize, in the inspector's story, all the marks of one
of those practical jokes which begin by amusing and end by enraging the
victims. The inspector, to curry favor with M. Moncharmin, who was
smiling, thought it best to give a smile too. A most unfortunate
smile! M. Richard glared at his subordinate, who thenceforth made it
his business to display a face of utter consternation.
"However, when the people arrived," roared Richard, "there was no one
in the box, was there?"
"Not a soul, sir, not a soul! Nor in the box on the right, nor in the
box on the left: not a soul, sir, I swear! The box-keeper told it me
often enough, which proves that it was all a joke."
"Oh, you agree, do you?" said Richard. "You agree! It's a joke! And
you think it funny, no doubt?"
"I think it in very bad taste, sir."
"And what did the box-keeper say?"
"Oh, she just said that it was the Opera ghost. That's all she said!"
And the inspector grinned. But he soon found that he had made a
mistake in grinning, for the words had no sooner left his mouth than M.
Richard, from gloomy, became furious.
"Send for the box-keeper!" he shouted. "Send for her! This minute!
This minute! And bring her in to me here! And turn all those people
out!"
The inspector tried to protest, but Richard closed his mouth with an
angry order to hold his tongue. Then, when the wretched man's lips
seemed shut for ever, the manager commanded him to open them once more.
"Who is this 'Opera ghost?'" he snarled.
But the inspector was by this time incapable of speaking a word. He
managed to convey, by a despairing gesture, that he knew nothing about
it, or rather that he did not wish to know.