Faust and What Followed
On the Saturday morning, on reaching their office, the joint managers found a letter from O. G. worded in these terms:
My Dear Managers:
So it is to be war between us?
If you still care for peace, here is my ultimatum. It consists of the four following conditions:
If you refuse, you will give Faust tonight in a house with a curse upon it.
Take my advice and be warned in time.
“Look here, I’m getting sick of him, sick of him!” shouted Richard, bringing his fists down on his office-table.
Just then, Mercier, the acting-manager, entered.
“Lachenel would like to see one of you gentlemen,” he said. “He says that his business is urgent and he seems quite upset.”
“Who’s Lachenel?” asked Richard.
“He’s your stud-groom.”
“What do you mean? My stud-groom?”
“Yes, sir,” explained Mercier, “there are several grooms at the Opera and M. Lachenel is at the head of them.”