to them!...They were sure that there were three people in the box....They trembled ....They thought of running away....They dared not.... They dared not make a movement or exchange a word that would have told the ghost that they knew that he was there!...What was going to happen?

This happened.

`Co-ack!' Their joint exclamation of horror was heard all over the house. They felt that they were smarting under the ghost's attacks. Leaning over the ledge of their box, they stared at Carlotta as though they did not recognize her. That infernal girl must have given the signal for some catastrophe. Ah, they were waiting for the catastrophe! The ghost had told them it would come! The house had a curse upon it! The two managers gasped and panted under the weight of the catastrophe. Richard's stifled voice was heard calling to Carlotta:

`Well, go on!'

No, Carlotta did not go on....Bravely, heroically, she started afresh on the fatal line at the end of which the toad had appeared.

An awful silence succeeded the uproar. Carlotta's voice alone once more filled the resounding house:

`I feel without alarm...'

`I feel without alarm...
I feel without alarm - co-ack!
With its melody enwind me - co-ack!
And all my heart sub - co-ack!'

The house broke into a wild tumult. The two managers collapsed in their chairs and dared not even turn round; they had not the strength; the ghost was chuckling behind their backs! And, at last, they distinctly heard his voice in their right ears, the impossible voice, the mouthless voice, saying:

`She is singing to-night to bring the chandelier down!'

With one accord, they raised their eyes to the ceiling and uttered a terrible cry. The chandelier, the immense mass of the chandelier was slipping down, coming toward them, at the call of that fiendish voice. Released from its hook, it plunged from the ceiling and came smashing into the middle of the stalls, amid a thousand shouts of terror. A wild rush for the doors followed.

The papers of the day state that there were numbers wounded and one killed. The chandelier had crashed down upon the head of the wretched woman who had come to the Opera for the first time in her life, the one whom M. Richard had appointed to succeed Mme. Giry, the ghost's box-keeper, in her

I functions! She died on the spot and, the next morning, a newspaper appeared with this heading:

TWO HUNDRED KILOS
ON THE HEAD OF A CONCIERGE That was her sole epitaph!