There were cries of “Hush!” all around them and the whole house was beginning to protest, when the box-keeper came to fetch me. I entered the box and said what I thought necessary. The people did not seem to me to be in their right mind; and they made stupid remarks. I said that, if the noise was repeated, I should be compelled to clear the box. The moment I left, I heard the laughing again, with fresh protests from the house. I returned with a municipal guard, who turned them out. They protested, still laughing, saying they would not go unless they had their money back. At last, they became quiet and I allowed them to enter the box again. The laughter at once recommenced; and this time, I had them turned out definitely.

“Send for the inspector,” said Richard to his secretary, who had already read the report and marked it with blue pencil.

M. Rémy, 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 a favour with M. Moncharmin, who was smiling, thought it best to give a smile too. A most unfortunate smile! M. Richard glared at this 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.

“Have you ever seen him, have you seen the Opera ghost?” The inspector, by means of a vigorous shake of the head, denied ever having seen the ghost in question.

“Very well!” said M. Richard coldly.

The inspector’s eyes started out of his head, as though to ask why the manager had uttered that ominous “Very well!”

“Because I’m going to settle the account of any one who has not seen him!” explained the manager. “As he seems to be everywhere, I can’t have people telling me that they see him nowhere.