“Well, I saw nobody! Do you hear⁠—nobody!”

“What do you want me to go down there for?”

“You’re right!” said the stage-manager, frantically pushing his hands through his rebellious hair. “You’re right! But there might be someone at the organ who could tell us how the stage came to be suddenly darkened. Now Mauclair is nowhere to be found. Do you understand that?”

Mauclair was the gasman, who dispensed day and night at will on the stage of the Opera.

“Mauclair is not to be found!” repeated Mercier, taken aback. “Well, what about his assistants?”