Fantôme de l'Opéra. English

  Chapter XVII The Safety-Pin Again

  Moncharmin's last phrase so dearly expressed the suspicion in which henow held his partner that it was bound to cause a stormy explanation,at the end of which it was agreed that Richard should yield to allMoncharmin's wishes, with the object of helping him to discover themiscreant who was victimizing them.

  This brings us to the interval after the Garden Act, with the strangeconduct observed by M. Remy and those curious lapses from the dignitythat might be expected of the managers. It was arranged betweenRichard and Moncharmin, first, that Richard should repeat the exactmovements which he had made on the night of the disappearance of thefirst twenty-thousand francs; and, second, that Moncharmin should notfor an instant lose sight of Richard's coat-tail pocket, into whichMme. Giry was to slip the twenty-thousand francs.

  M. Richard went and placed himself at the identical spot where he hadstood when he bowed to the under-secretary for fine arts. M.Moncharmin took up his position a few steps behind him.

  Mme. Giry passed, rubbed up against M. Richard, got rid of hertwenty-thousand francs in the manager's coat-tail pocket anddisappeared ... Or rather she was conjured away. In accordance withthe instructions received from Moncharmin a few minutes earlier,Mercier took the good lady to the acting-manager's office and turnedthe key on her, thus making it impossible for her to communicate withher ghost.

  Meanwhile, M. Richard was bending and bowing and scraping and walkingbackward, just as if he had that high and mighty minister, theunder-secretary for fine arts, before him. Only, though these marks ofpoliteness would have created no astonishment if the under-secretary ofstate had really been in front of M. Richard, they caused an easilycomprehensible amazement to the spectators of this very natural butquite inexplicable scene when M. Richard had no body in front of him.

  M. Richard bowed ... to nobody; bent his back ... before nobody; andwalked backward ... before nobody ... And, a few steps behind him, M.Moncharmin did the same thing that he was doing in addition to pushingaway M. Remy and begging M. de La Borderie, the ambassador, and themanager of the Credit Central "not to touch M. le Directeur."

  Moncharmin, who had his own ideas, did not want Richard to come to himpresently, when the twenty-thousand francs were gone, and say:

  "Perhaps it was the ambassador ... or the manager of the Credit Central... or Remy."

  The more so as, at the time of the first scene, as Richard himselfadmitted, Richard had met nobody in that part of the theater after Mme.Giry had brushed up against him...

  Having begun by walking backward in order to bow, Richard continued todo so from prudence, until he reached the passage leading to theoffices of the management. In this way, he was constantly watched byMoncharmin from behind and himself kept an eye on any one approachingfrom the front. Once more, this novel method of walking behind thescenes, adopted by the managers of our National Academy of Music,attracted attention; but the managers themselves thought of nothing buttheir twenty-thousand francs.

  On reaching the half-dark passage, Richard said to Moncharmin, in a lowvoice:

  "I am sure that nobody has touched me ... You had now better keep atsome distance from me and watch me till I come to door of the office:it is better not to arouse suspicion and we can see anything thathappens."

  But Moncharmin replied. "No, Richard, no! You walk ahead and I'llwalk immediately behind you! I won't leave you by a step!"

  "But, in that case," exclaimed Richard, "they will never steal ourtwenty-thousand francs!"

  "I should hope not, indeed!" declared Moncharmin.

  "Then what we are doing is absurd!"

  "We are doing exactly what we did last time ... Last time, I joinedyou as you were leaving the stage and followed close behind you downthis passage."

  "That's true!" sighed Richard, shaking his head and passively obeyingMoncharmin.

  Two minutes later, the joint managers locked themselves into theiroffice. Moncharmin himself put the key in his pocket:

  "We remained locked up like this, last time," he said, "until you leftthe Opera to go home."

  "That's so. No one came and disturbed us, I suppose?"

  "No one."

  "Then," said Richard, who was trying to collect his memory, "then Imust certainly have been robbed on my way home from the Opera."

  "No," said Moncharmin in a drier tone than ever, "no, that'simpossible. For I dropped you in my cab. The twenty-thousand francsdisappeared at your place: there's not a shadow of a doubt about that."

  "It's incredible!" protested Richard. "I am sure of my servants ...and if one of them had done it, he would have disappeared since."

  Moncharmin shrugged his shoulders, as though to say that he did notwish to enter into details, and Richard began to think that Moncharminwas treating him in a very insupportable fashion.

  "Moncharmin, I've had enough of this!"

  "Richard, I've had too much of it!"

  "Do you dare to suspect me?"

  "Yes, of a silly joke."

  "One doesn't joke with twenty-thousand francs."

  "That's what I think," declared Moncharmin, unfolding a newspaper andostentatiously studying its contents.

  "What are you doing?" asked Richard. "Are you going to read the papernext?"

  "Yes, Richard, until I take you home."

  "Like last time?"

  "Yes, like last time."

  Richard snatched the paper from Moncharmin's hands. Moncharmin stoodup, more irritated than ever, and found himself faced by an exasperatedRichard, who, crossing his arms on his chest, said:

  "Look here, I'm thinking of this, I'M THINKING OF WHAT I MIGHT THINKif, like last time, after my spending the evening alone with you, youbrought me home and if, at the moment of parting, I perceived thattwenty-thousand francs had disappeared from my coat-pocket ... likelast time."

  "And what might you think?" asked Moncharmin, crimson with rage.

  "I might think that, as you hadn't left me by a foot's breadth and as,by your own wish, you were the only one to approach me, like last time,I might think that, if that twenty-thousand francs was no longer in mypocket, it stood a very good chance of being in yours!"

  Moncharmin leaped up at the suggestion.

  "Oh!" he shouted. "A safety-pin!"

  "What do you want a safety-pin for?"

  "To fasten you up with! ... A safety-pin! ... A safety-pin!"

  "You want to fasten me with a safety-pin?"

  "Yes, to fasten you to the twenty-thousand francs! Then, whether it'shere, or on the drive from here to your place, or at your place, youwill feel the hand that pulls at your pocket and you will see if it'smine! Oh, so you're suspecting me now, are you? A safety-pin!"

  And that was the moment when Moncharmin opened the door on the passageand shouted:

  "A safety-pin! ... somebody give me a safety-pin!"

  And we also know how, at the same moment, Remy, who had no safety-pin,was received by Moncharmin, while a boy procured the pin so eagerlylonged for. And what happened was this: Moncharmin first locked thedoor again. Then he knelt down behind Richard's back.

  "I hope," he said, "that the notes are still there?"

  "So do I," said Richard.

  "The real ones?" asked Moncharmin, resolved not to be "had" this time.

  "Look for yourself," said Richard. "I refuse to touch them."

  Moncharmin took the envelope from Richard's pocket and drew out thebank-notes with a trembling hand, for, this time, in order frequentlyto make sure of the presence of the notes, he had not sealed theenvelope nor even fastened it. He felt reassured on finding that theywere all there and quite genuine. He put them back in the tail-pocketand pinned them with great care. Then he sat down behind Richard'scoat-tails and kept his eyes fixed on them, while Richard, sitting athis writing-table, did not stir.

  "A little patience, Richard," said Moncharmin. "We have only a fewminutes to wait ... The clock will soon strike twelve. Last time, weleft at the last stroke o
f twelve."

  "Oh, I shall have all the patience necessary!"

  The time passed, slow, heavy, mysterious, stifling. Richard tried tolaugh.

  "I shall end by believing in the omnipotence of the ghost," he said."Just now, don't you find something uncomfortable, disquieting,alarming in the atmosphere of this room?"

  "You're quite right," said Moncharmin, who was really impressed.

  "The ghost!" continued Richard, in a low voice, as though fearing lesthe should be overheard by invisible ears. "The ghost! Suppose, allthe same, it were a ghost who puts the magic envelopes on the table ...who talks in Box Five ... who killed Joseph Buquet ... who unhookedthe chandelier ... and who robs us! For, after all, after all, afterall, there is no one here except you and me, and, if the notesdisappear and neither you nor I have anything to do with it, well, weshall have to believe in the ghost ... in the ghost."

  At that moment, the clock on the mantlepiece gave its warning click andthe first stroke of twelve struck.

  The two managers shuddered. The perspiration streamed from theirforeheads. The twelfth stroke sounded strangely in their ears.

  When the clock stopped, they gave a sigh and rose from their chairs.

  "I think we can go now," said Moncharmin.

  "I think so," Richard a agreed.

  "Before we go, do you mind if I look in your pocket?"

  "But, of course, Moncharmin, YOU MUST! ... Well?" he asked, asMoncharmin was feeling at the pocket.

  "Well, I can feel the pin."

  "Of course, as you said, we can't be robbed without noticing it."

  But Moncharmin, whose hands were still fumbling, bellowed:

  "I can feel the pin, but I can't feel the notes!"

  "Come, no joking, Moncharmin! ... This isn't the time for it."

  "Well, feel for yourself."

  Richard tore off his coat. The two managers turned the pocket insideout. THE POCKET WAS EMPTY. And the curious thing was that the pinremained, stuck in the same place.

  Richard and Moncharmin turned pale. There was no longer any doubtabout the witchcraft.

  "The ghost!" muttered Moncharmin.

  But Richard suddenly sprang upon his partner.

  "No one but you has touched my pocket! Give me back my twenty-thousandfrancs! ... Give me back my twenty-thousand francs! ..."

  "On my soul," sighed Moncharmin, who was ready to swoon, "on my soul, Iswear that I haven't got it!"

  Then somebody knocked at the door. Moncharmin opened it automatically,seemed hardly to recognize Mercier, his business-manager, exchanged afew words with him, without knowing what he was saying and, with anunconscious movement, put the safety-pin, for which he had no furtheruse, into the hands of his bewildered subordinate ...