Призрак оперы / The Phantom of the Opera

Was all this serious? The truth is that the idea of the skeleton came from the description of the ghost given by Joseph Buquet[14 - Joseph Buquet – Жозеф Бюке], the chief scene-shifter[15 - the chief scene-shifter – старший машинист сцены], who had really seen the ghost. He had seen him for a second—for the ghost had run away. Joseph said:

“He is extraordinarily thin. His eyes are very deep, you just see two big black holes, as in a dead man’s skull. His skin, which is stretched across his bones like a drumhead, is not white, but yellow.

His nose is so little worth talking about that you can’t see it; and the absence of that nose is a horrible thing to look at. All the hair he has is three or four long dark locks on his forehead and behind his ears.”

This chief scene-shifter was a serious, sober, steady man. His words were received with interest and amazement; and soon there were other people to say that they too had met a man with a death’s head on his shoulders.

And then, one after the other, there came a series of incidents so curious and so inexplicable that the very shrewdest people began to feel uneasy.

For instance, a fireman is a brave fellow! He fears nothing! Well, the fireman had gone to make a round of inspection in the cellars and suddenly reappeared on the stage, pale, scared. And why? Because he had seen coming toward him, at the level of his head, but without a body attached to it, a head of fire!

But let’s return to the evening.

“It’s the ghost!” the dancers had cried.

An agonizing silence now reigned in the dressing-room. Nothing was heard but the hard breathing of the girls. At last, a dancer, with the mark of real terror on her face, whispered:

“Listen!”

Everybody seemed to hear a rustling outside the door. But there was no sound of footsteps. Then it stopped.

Sorelli tried to show more courage than the others. She went up to the door and asked:

“Who’s there?”

But nobody answered.

Then she said very loudly:

“Is there any one behind the door?”

“Oh, yes, yes! Of course there is!” cried little Meg, heroically holding Sorelli back by her gauze skirt.

“Don’t open the door! Oh, Lord, don’t open the door!”

But Sorelli, armed with a dagger, turned the key and opened the door, while Meg sighed:

“Mother! Mother!”

Sorelli looked into the passage bravely. It was empty.