Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the sixteenth chapter of The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux.

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Wherever you listen to podcasts today, we'll be continuing The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Laraux.

Chapter 16 madame Jiree's astounding revelations as to her personal relations with the Opera Ghost.

Before following the commissary into the manager's office, I must describe certain extraordinary occurrences that took place in that office which Remy and Mercier had.

Vainly tried to enter.

And into which Monsieur's Richard and Monsarmin had locked themselves was an object which the reader does not yet know, but which it is my duty as a historian to reveal.

Without further postponement, I have had occasion to say that the manager's mood had undergone a disagreeable change for some time past.

And to convey the fact that this change was due not only to the fall of the chandelier on the famous night of the Gala performance the reader must know that the ghost had calmly been paid his 1st 20,000 francs.

Oh, there had been wailing and gnashing of teeth indeed.

And yet the thing had happened as simply as could be.

One morning, the managers found on their table an envelope addressed to Monsieur OG, private and accompanied by a note from OG himself.

The time has come to carry out the claws.

In the memorandum book.

Please put 20 notes of a thousand francs each into this envelope, seal it with your own seal and hand it to Madame Jiree, who will do it as necessary.

The managers did not hesitate.

Without wasting time and asking how these confounded communications came to be delivered in an office which they were careful to keep locked.

They seized this opportunity of laying hands on the mysterious blackmailer.

And after telling the whole story under the promise of secrecy to Gabriel and Mercier, they put the 200 francs into the envelope and without asking for explanations, handed it to Madame Jiree, who had been reinstated in her functions.

The boxkeeper displayed no astonishment.

I need hardly say that she was wellwatched.

She went straight to the ghost's box and placed the precious envelope on the little shelf attached to the ledge.

The two managers, as well as Gabriel and Marcia, were hidden in such a way that they did not lose sight of the envelope for a second during the performance and even afterward.

For as the envelope had not moved, those who watched it did not move either, and Madame Jiree went away while the managers, Gabriel and Marcia were still there.

At last they became tired of waiting and opened the envelope after ascertaining that the seals had not been broken at first sight.

Richard and Moncharmin thought that the notes were still there, but soon they perceived that they were not the same.

The 20 real notes were gone and had been replaced by 20 notes of the bank of St.

Farth.

The manager's rage and fright were unmistakable.

Moncharmin wanted to send for the Commissary of Police, but Richard objected.

He no doubt had a plan, for he said, don't let us make ourselves ridiculous.

All Paris would laugh at us.

OG has won the first game, we will win the second.

He was thinking of the next month's allowance.

Nevertheless, they had been so absolutely tricked that they were bound to suffer a certain dejection.

And upon my word, it was not difficult to understand.

We must not forget that the managers had an idea at the back of their minds all the time that this strange incident might be an unpleasant practical joke on the part of their predecessors, and that it would not do to divulge it prematurely.

On the other hand, Moncharmin was sometimes troubled with a suspicion of Richard himself, who occasionally took fanciful whims into his head.

And so they were content to await events while keeping an eye on Mother Jirey.

Richard would not have her spoken to if she's a confederate, he said, the notes are gone long ago, but in my opinion she is merely an idiot.

She's not the only idiot in this business, said Montcharmine pensively.

Well, who could have thought it?

Moaned Richard.

But don't be afraid.

Next time I shall have taken my precautions.

The next time fell on the same day.

That beheld the disappearance of Christine Dale.

In the morning, a note from the ghost reminded them that the money was due.

It read do just as you did last time.

It went very well.

Put the 200 in the envelope and hand it to our excellent Madame Jiree.

And the note was accompanied by the usual envelope.

They had only to insert the notes.

This was done about half an hour before the curtain rose.

On the first act of Faust, richard showed the envelope to Montcharmin.

Then he counted the 200 franc notes in front of him and put the notes into the envelope, but without closing it.

And now he said, let's have Mother Jirey in.

The old woman was sent for.

She entered with a sweeping courtesy.

She still wore her black taff at a dress the color of which was rapidly turning to rust and lilac, to say nothing of the dingy bonnet.

She seemed in a good temper.

She at once said, good evening, gentlemen.

It's for the envelope, I suppose?

Yes, Madame Gyrie, said Richard, most amiably.

For the envelope and something else besides.

At your service, Monsieur Richard.

At your service.

And what is the something else, please?

First of all, Madame Jiree, I have a little question to put to you.

By all means, Monsieur Richard.

Madame Gyrey is here to answer you.

Are you still on good terms with the ghost?

Couldn't be better, sir.

Couldn't be better.

Ah, we are delighted.

Look here, Madame Jiree, said Richard, in the tone of making an important confidence, we may just as well tell you among ourselves, you're no fool.

Why, sir.

Exclaimed the boxkeeper, stopping a pleasant nodding of the black feathers in her dingy bonnet.

I assure you, no one has ever doubted that we are quite agreed, and we shall soon understand one another.

The story of the ghost is all humbug, isn't it?

Well, still, between ourselves, it has lasted long enough.

Adam Jirey looked at the managers as though they were talking Chinese.

She walked up to Richard's table and asked rather anxiously, what do you mean?

I don't understand.

Oh, you understand quite well.

In any case, you've got to understand.

And first of all, tell us his name.

Whose name?

The name of the man whose accomplice you are, Madame Gary.

I am the ghost's accomplice.

I his accomplice.

In what, pray?

You do all he wants.

Oh, he's not very troublesome, you know.

And does he still tip you?

I mustn't complain.

How much does he give you for bringing him that envelope?

Ten francs.

You poor thing.

That's not much, is it?

Why, I'll tell you that presently.

Madame Gyree, just now we should like you to know for what extraordinary reason you've given yourself, body and soul, to this ghost.

Madame Gyrey's, friendship and devotion are not to be bought for five francs or ten francs.

That's true enough.

And I can tell you the reason, sir.

There's no disgrace about it.

On the contrary, we're quite sure of that.

Madame Jiree.

Well, it's like this, only the ghost doesn't like me to talk about his business.

Indeed, sneered Richard, but this is a matter that concerns myself alone.

Well, it was in box five one evening I found a letter addressed to myself, a sort of note written in red ink.

I didn't read the letter to you, sir.

I know it by heart, and I shall never forget it if I live to be a hundred.

And Madame Jiree, drawing herself up, recited the letter with touching eloquence madame.

1825.

Madele Montreal, leader of the ballet, became Marquis de Cussi.

1832.

Mademoiselle Marie Tagaloni, a dancer, became Countess Gilbert de Voisnens.

1846.

La Soda, a dancer, married a brother of the king of Spain.

1847.

Lola Montez, a dancer, became the Morgantic, wife of King Louis of Bavaria and was created Count Hess of Landsfeld.

Mademoiselle Maria, a dancer, became Baron de Erniville.

Theresa Hessier, a dancer, married Dom Fernando, brother to the king of Portugal.

Richard and Moncharmin listened to the old woman who, as she proceeded with the enumeration of these glorious nuptials, swelled out, took courage, and at last, in a voice bursting with pride, flung out the last sentence of the prophetic letter meghiree empress.

Exhausted by the supreme effort, the boxkeeper fell into a chair saying gentlemen, the letter was signed Opera Ghost.

I had heard much of the ghost, but only half believed in him.

From the day when he declared that my little Meg the flesh of my flesh, the fruit of my womb, would be empress.

I believed in him altogether.

And really, it was not necessary to make a long study of Madame Jire's excited features to understand what could be got out of that fine intellect with the two words ghost and Empress.

But who pulled the strings of that extraordinary puppet?

That was the question.

You've never seen him.

He speaks to you and you believe all he says?

Asked Moncharmin.

Yes.

To begin with, I owe it to him that my little Meg was promoted to be the leader of a row.

I said to the ghost, if she has to be empress in 1885, there's no time to lose.

She must become a leader at once.

He said, look upon it is done.

And he had only a word to say to Monsieur Pollinge, and the thing was done.

So you see that Monsieur Pollingney saw him?

No, not any more than I did.

But he heard him.

The ghost said a word in his ear.

You know, on the evening when he left Box Five looking so dreadfully pale, Moncharmin heaved a sigh.

What a business.

He groaned.

Ah, said Madame Jirey, I always thought there were secrets between the ghost and Monsieur Pollingney.

Anything that the Ghost asked Montreal Pollingney to do, monsieur Pollinge did.

Montreal Pollingney could refuse the ghost nothing.

You hear, Richard?

Paulingne could refuse the ghost nothing.

Yes, yes, I hear, said Richard Monteer.

Paulingney is a friend of the ghost.

And as Madame Jiree is a friend of Montier Paulingney.

There we are.

But I don't care a hang about Montreal Paulingney, he added roughly the only person whose fate really interests me is Madame Jiree.

Madame Jirey, do you know what is in this envelope?

Well, of course not, she said.

Well, look mine.

Jiree looked into the envelope with a lackluster eye which soon recovered its brilliancy.

Thousand franc notes.

She cried.

Yes, Madame Jiree.

Thousand franc notes.

And you knew it.

I, sir, I I swear.

Don't swear, Madame Jiree.

And now I will tell you the second reason why I sent for you.

Madame Jiree, I'm going to have you arrested.

The two black feathers on the dingy bonnet, which usually affected the attitude of two notes of interrogation, changed into two notes of exclamation.

As for the bonnet itself, it swayed in menace on the old lady's tempetuous chignon.

Surprise, indignation protests and dismay were furthermore displayed by little Meg's mother in a sort of extravagant movement of offended virtue, half bound, half slide that brought her right under the nose of monsieur Richard, who could not help pushing back his chair.

Have me arrested.

The mouth that spoke those words seemed to spit the three teeth that were left to it into Richard's face.

Monsieur Richard behaved like a hero.

He retreated no farther.

His threatening forefinger seemed already to be pointing out the keeper of box five to the absent magistrates.

I'm going to have you arrested, madame Jirey, as a thief.

Say that again.

And Madame Jirey caught Mr.

Manager Richard, a mighty box on the ear before mr.

Manager Mont charmin had time to intervene.

But it was not the withered hand of the angry old bed limb that fell on the managerial ear, but the envelope itself, the cause of all the trouble, the magic envelope that opened with the blow.

Scattering the bank notes, which escaped in a fantastic whirl of giant butterflies, the two managers gave a shout, and the same thought made them both go on their knees, feverishly picking up and hurriedly examining the precious scraps of paper.

Are they still genuine, Montcharmen?

Are they still genuine, Richard?

Yes, they are still genuine.

Above their heads, madame Giri's three teeth were clashing in a noisy contest full of hideous interjections, but all that could be clearly distinguished was this lee's motif I a thief.

Aye.

A thief, aye.

She choked with rage.

She shouted, I never heard of such a thing.

And suddenly she darted up to Richard again.

In any case, she yelped, you, monsieur Richard, ought to know better than I where the 200 francs went to.

I asked Richard astounded, and how should I know?

Montcharmin looked severe and dissatisfied, at once insisted that the good lady should explain herself.

What does this mean, madame Gary?

He asked.

And why do you say that monsieur Richard ought to know better than you where the 200 francs went to?

As for Richard, who felt himself turning red under Moncharmin's eyes, he took madame Jirey by the wrist and shook it violently.

In a voice growling and rolling like thunder, he roared, why should I know better than you where the 200 francs went to?

Why?

Answer me.

Because they went into your pocket, gasped the old woman, looking at him as if he were the devil incarnate.

Richard would have rushed upon madame Jirey if Moncharmin had not stayed his avenging hand and hastened to ask her more gently, how can you suspect my partner, Monsieur Richard, of putting 200 francs in his pocket.

I never said that.

Declared Madame Jiree, seeing that it was myself who put the 200 francs into Monsieur Richard's pocket.

And she added under her voice, there it's out.

And may the ghost forgive me.

Richard began bellowing anew, but Moncharmin authoritatively ordered him to be silent.

Allow me, allow me.

Let the woman explain herself.

Let me question her.

And he added it is really astonishing that you should take up such a tone.

We are on the verge of clearing up the whole mystery, and you're in a rage.

You're wrong to behave like that.

I'm enjoying myself immensely.

Madame Jirey, like the martyr that she was, raised her head, her face beaming with faith in her own innocence.

You tell me there were 20,000 francs in the envelope which I put into Monsieur Richard's pocket, but I tell you again that I knew nothing about it, nor Monsieur Richard either, for that matter.

AHA, said Richard, suddenly assuming a swaggering air which Montcharmin did not like.

I knew nothing either.

You put 200 francs in my pocket and I knew nothing either?

I'm very glad to hear it, Madame Jiree.

Yes, the terrible dame agreed.

Yes, it's true.

We neither of us knew anything.

But you you must have ended by finding out.

Richard would certainly have swallowed Madame Gyri alive if Moncharmin had not been there.

But Moncharmin protected her.

He resumed his questions.

What sort of envelope did you put in Monsieur Richard's pocket?

It was not the one which we gave you, the one which you took to box five before our eyes.

And yet that was the one which contained the 20,000 francs.

I beg your pardon?

The envelope which Monsieur le director gave me was the one which I slipped into Monsieur Lee director's pocket, explained Madame Gyree.

The one which I took to the ghost's box was another envelope just like it, which the ghost gave me beforehand and which I hid up my sleeve.

So sang madame Gyrie took from her sleeve and envelope ready, prepared and similarly addressed to that containing the 20,000 francs.

The managers took it from her, they examined it and saw that it was fastened with seals stamped with their own managerial seal.

They opened it.

It contained 20 bank of st FAR's notes, like those which had so much astounded them the month before.

How simple, said Richard.

How simple.

Repeated Moncharmin, and he continued with his eyes fixed upon Madame Jirey, so trying to hypnotize her.

So it was the ghost who gave you this envelope and told you to substitute it for the one which we gave you.

And it was the ghost who told you to put the other into Monsieur Richard's pocket?

Yes, it was the ghost.

Then would you mind giving us a specimen of your little talents?

Here's the envelope.

Act as though we knew nothing.

As you please, gentlemen.

Madame Jirey took the envelope with the 20 notes inside it and made for the door.

She was on the point of going out when the two managers rushed at her.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

We're not going to be done a second time.

Once bitten, twice shy.

I beg your pardon, gentlemen, said the old woman in self excuse.

You told me to act as though you knew nothing.

Well, if you knew nothing, I should go away with your envelope.

And then how would you slip it into my pocket?

Argued Richard, whom Moncharmin fixed with his left eye while keeping his right on Madame Jiree, a proceeding likely to strain his sight.

But Moncharmin was prepared to go to any length to discover the truth.

I'm to slip it into your pocket when you least expect it, sir.

You know that I always take a little turn behind the scenes in the course of the evening, and I often go with my daughter to the ballet foyer, which I am entitled to do as her mother.

I bring her her shoes when the ballet is about to begin.

In fact, I come and go as I please.

The subscribers come and go, too.

So do you, sir.

There are lots of people about.

I go behind you and slip the envelope into the tail pocket of your dress coat.

There's no witchcraft about that.

No witchcraft?

Growled Richard, rolling his eyes like Jupiter Tonans.

No witchcraft?

Why, I've just caught you in a lie, you old witch.

Madame Jye.

Bristled with her three teeth sticking out of her mouth.

And why, may I ask?

Because I spent that evening watching box five and the sham envelope what you put there.

I did not go to the ballet for you for a second.

No, sir.

And I did not give you the envelope that evening.

But at the next performance, on the evening when the undersecretary of state for fine Arts at these words, monsieur Richard suddenly interrupted Madame Jirey.

Yes, that's true.

I remember now.

The undersecretary went behind the scenes.

He asked for me.

I went down to the ballet foyer.

For a moment.

I was on the foyer steps.

The undersecretary and his chief clerk were in the foyer itself.

I suddenly turned around.

You had passed behind me, madame Jirey.

You seemed to push against me.

Oh, I can see you still.

I can see you still.

Yes, that's it, sir.

That's it.

I had just finished my little business.

That pocket of yours is very handy.

And Madame Jiree once more suited the action to the word.

She passed behind Monsieur Richard and so nimbly that Mont, charmin himself was impressed by it, slipped the envelope into the pocket of one of the tales of Monsieur Richard's dress coat.

Of course.

Exclaimed Richard, looking a little pale.

It's very clever of OG.

The problem which he had to solve was this how to do away with any dangerous intermediary between the man who gives the 20,000 francs and the man who receives it.

And by far the best thing he could hit upon was to come and take the money from my pocket without my noticing it, as I myself did not know that it was there.

It's wonderful.

Oh, wonderful.

No doubt Moncharmin agreed.

Only you forget, Richard, that I provided 10,000 francs of the 20 and that nobody put anything in my pocket.

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