Commissary. Alas, I do not know much!..."
"Never mind, go on, go on!" exclaimed Richard and Moncharmin,
suddenly greatly interested.
Unfortunately for their hopes of learning some detail that could put
them on the track of their hoaxer, they were soon compelled to accept
the fact that M. Raoul de Chagny had completely lost his head.
All that story about Perros-Guirec, death's heads and enchanted violins,
could only have taken birth in the disordered brain of a youth
mad with love. It was evident, also, that Mr. Commissary Mifroid
shared their view; and the magistrate would certainly have cut
short the incoherent narrative if circumstances had not taken
it upon themselves to interrupt it.
The door opened and a man entered, curiously dressed in an enormous
frock-coat and a tall hat, at once shabby and shiny, that came down to
his ears. He went up to the commissary and spoke to him in a whisper.
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.
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