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Updated: May 2, 2025
He soon opened his eyes and was not long in recovering when he saw his friend's charming face leaning over him. A few weeks later, when the tragedy at the Opera compelled the intervention of the public prosecutor, M. Mifroid, the commissary of police, examined the Vicomte de Chagny touching the events of the night at Perros.
But the stage-manager, holding his chin in the hollow of his right hand, which is the attitude of profound thought, said: "It is not the first time that Mauclair has fallen asleep in the theater. I remember finding him, one evening, snoring in his little recess, with his snuff-box beside him." "Is that long ago?" asked M. Mifroid, carefully wiping his eye-glasses.
Mercier, the acting-manager, called the Vicomte de Chagny's attention to him and said: "This is the gentleman to whom you should put your question, monsieur. Let me introduce Mifroid, the commissary of police." "Ah, M. le Vicomte de Chagny! Delighted to meet you, monsieur," said the commissary. "Would you mind coming with me? ... And now where are the managers? ... Where are the managers?"
M. Mifroid rose and looked at Raoul attentively. "I beg your pardon, monsieur but is it your intention to make fun of the law? And, if not, what is all this about the Opera ghost?" "I say that these gentlemen have heard of him." "Gentlemen, it appears that you know the Opera ghost?" Richard rose, with the remaining hairs of his mustache in his hand.
He saw that, at the same time, he was pushing a human body and he could not keep back an exclamation, for he recognized the body at once: "Mauclair! Poor devil! He is dead!" But Mr. Commissary Mifroid, whom nothing surprised, was stooping over that big body. "No," he said, "he is dead-drunk, which is not quite the same thing." "It's the first time, if so," said the stage-manager
It was doubtless a detective come to deliver an important communication. During this conversation, M. Mifroid did not take his eyes off Raoul. At last, addressing him, he said: "Monsieur, we have talked enough about the ghost. We will now talk about yourself a little, if you have no objection: you were to carry off Mlle. Christine Daae to-night?" "Yes, M. le Commissaire." "After the performance?"
"'Yes, Mr. Commissary ... Look, there is his snuff-box on that little shelf ... Oh! he's a great snuff-taker!" "So am I," said Mifroid and put the snuff-box in his pocket. Raoul and the Persian, themselves unobserved, watched the removal of the three bodies by a number of scene-shifters, who were followed by the commissary and all the people with him.
"Yes, she was carried off in the Prison Act, at the moment when she was invoking the aid of the angels; but I doubt if she was carried off by an angel." "And I am sure that she was!" Everybody looked round. A young man, pale and trembling with excitement, repeated: "I am sure of it!" "Sure of what?" asked Mifroid.
Moncharmin understood what he meant, for, with a distracted gesture, he said: "Oh, tell everything and have done with it!" As for Mifroid, he looked at the managers and at Raoul by turns and wondered whether he had strayed into a lunatic asylum. He passed his hand through his hair.
"Then some one has given him a narcotic. That is quite possible." Mifroid went down a few steps and said: "Look!" By the light of a little red lantern, at the foot of the stairs, they saw two other bodies. The stage-manager recognized Mauclair's assistants. Mifroid went down and listened to their breathing. "They are sound asleep," he said. "Very curious business!
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