The Phantom of the Opera Gaston Leroux (top 10 ebook reader TXT) đ
- Author: Gaston Leroux
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Jammes had told her story ever so quickly, as though the ghost were at her heels, and was quite out of breath at the finish. A silence followed, while Sorelli polished her nails in great excitement. It was broken by little Giry, who said:
âJoseph Buquet would do better to hold his tongue.â
âWhy should he hold his tongue?â asked somebody.
âThatâs motherâs opinion,â replied Meg, lowering her voice and looking all about her as though fearing lest other ears than those present might overhear.
âAnd why is it your motherâs opinion?â
âHush! Mother says the ghost doesnât like being talked about.â
âAnd why does your mother say so?â
âBecauseâ âbecauseâ ânothingâ ââ
This reticence exasperated the curiosity of the young ladies, who crowded round little Giry, begging her to explain herself. They were there, side by side, leaning forward simultaneously in one movement of entreaty and fear, communicating their terror to one another, taking a keen pleasure in feeling their blood freeze in their veins.
âI swore not to tell!â gasped Meg.
But they left her no peace and promised to keep the secret, until Meg, burning to say all she knew, began, with her eyes fixed on the door:
âWell, itâs because of the private box.â
âWhat private box?â
âThe ghostâs box!â
âHas the ghost a box? Oh, do tell us, do tell us!â
âNot so loud!â said Meg. âItâs Box Five, you know, the box on the grand tier, next to the stage-box, on the left.â
âOh, nonsense!â
âI tell you it is. Mother has charge of it. But you swear you wonât say a word?â
âOf course, of course.â
âWell, thatâs the ghostâs box. No one has had it for over a month, except the ghost, and orders have been given at the box-office that it must never be sold.â
âAnd does the ghost really come there?â
âYes.â
âThen somebody does come?â
âWhy, no! The ghost comes, but there is nobody there.â
The little ballet-girls exchanged glances. If the ghost came to the box, he must be seen, because he wore a dress-coat and a deathâs head. This was what they tried to make Meg understand, but she replied:
âThatâs just it! The ghost is not seen. And he has no dress-coat and no head! All that talk about his deathâs head and his head of fire is nonsense! Thereâs nothing in it. You only hear him when he is in the box. Mother has never seen him, but she has heard him. Mother knows, because she gives him his program.â
Sorelli interfered.
âGiry, child, youâre getting at us!â
Thereupon little Giry began to cry.
âI ought to have held my tongueâ âif mother ever came to know! But I was quite right, Joseph Buquet had no business to talk of things that donât concern himâ âit will bring him bad luckâ âmother was saying so last nightâ ââ
There was a sound of hurried and heavy footsteps in the passage and a breathless voice cried:
âCecile! Cecile! Are you there?â
âItâs motherâs voice,â said Jammes. âWhatâs the matter?â
She opened the door. A respectable lady, built on the lines of a Pomeranian grenadier, burst into the dressing-room and dropped groaning into a vacant armchair. Her eyes rolled madly in her brick-dust colored face.
âHow awful!â she said. âHow awful!â
âWhat? What?â
âJoseph Buquetâ ââ
âWhat about him?â
âJoseph Buquet is dead!â
The room became filled with exclamations, with astonished outcries, with scared requests for explanations.
âYes, he was found hanging in the third-floor cellar!â
âItâs the ghost!â little Giry blurted, as though in spite of herself; but she at once corrected herself, with her hands pressed to her mouth: âNo, no!â âI didnât say it!â âI didnât say it!â ââ
All around her, her panic-stricken companions repeated under their breaths:
âYesâ âit must be the ghost!â
Sorelli was very pale.
âI shall never be able to recite my speech,â she said.
Ma Jammes gave her opinion, while she emptied a glass of liqueur that happened to be standing on a table; the ghost must have something to do with it.
The truth is that no one ever knew how Joseph Buquet met his death. The verdict at the inquest was ânatural suicide.â In his Memoirs of a Manager, M. Moncharmin, one of the joint managers who succeeded MM. Debienne and Poligny, describes the incident as follows:
A grievous accident spoiled the little party which MM. Debienne and Poligny gave to celebrate their retirement. I was in the managerâs office, when Mercier, the acting-manager, suddenly came darting in. He seemed half mad and told me that the body of a scene-shifter had been found hanging in the third cellar under the stage, between a farmhouse and a scene from the Roi de Lahore. I shouted:
âCome and cut him down!â
By the time I had rushed down the staircase and the Jacobâs ladder, the man was no longer hanging from his rope!
So this is an event which M. Moncharmin thinks natural. A man hangs at the end of a rope; they go to cut him down; the rope has disappeared. Oh, M. Moncharmin found a very simple explanation! Listen to him:
It was just after the ballet; and leaders and dancing-girls lost no time in taking their precautions against the evil eye.
There you are! Picture the corps de ballet scuttling down the Jacobâs ladder and dividing the suicideâs rope among themselves in less time than it takes to write! When, on the other hand, I think of the exact spot where the body was discoveredâ âthe third cellar underneath the stageâ âI imagine that somebody must have been interested in seeing that the rope disappeared after it had effected its purpose; and time will show if I am wrong.
The horrid news soon spread all over the Opera, where Joseph Buquet was very popular. The dressing-rooms emptied and the ballet-girls, crowding around Sorelli like timid sheep around their shepherdess, made for the foyer through the ill-lit passages and staircases, trotting as fast as their little pink legs could carry them.
II The New MargaritaOn the first landing, Sorelli ran against the Comte de Chagny, who was coming upstairs. The count, who was generally so calm, seemed greatly excited.
âI was just
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