Original subtitles

I name this ship the Anne O 'Needan, and wish her Godspeed and a safe passage on

all her voyages.

May God bless and keep safe all who sail in her.

To Albert.

To Albert.

To Albert.

I built a fine ship. A fine ship. I'll give him that.

Quite beyond my expectations. It was a splendid launch.

Albert would be so proud of you. My son doesn't know on which side his bread is

buttered. Taking himself off on some wild goose chase to the ends of the

Only to the Argentine. He'll be back in good time for the ship's trials.

Who's to foot the bills in the meantime?

Well, the company, I imagine.

Not good enough.

She'll be at least three months in the fitting -out basin. Not a penny piece

coming into my yards. James will settle.

Trade trade's appalling.

They've a long way to go before they touch bottom.

There's no money about.

No new orders.

My yards are at a standstill.

James seems to keep his ships busy.

Ah, he's one of the few that do.

But at what cost?

Buying up old vessels only fit for the knackers' yard, patching them up,

them out dangerous... Insolently overloaded.

You take my advice. Pull out. Pull out while you can.

Things are that serious?

A word to the wise.

Albert has a 15 % interest in the Ornithian line.

Cash in, Maria.

Cash in while you can.

And how old might you be?

I am 10 years old.

Oh.

Oh, so this is your son, Mrs. Fraser.

Such a handsome boy.

He takes after his father.

Aye, but he does have the Oneiden nose.

Eh, William?

Yes, ma 'am.

Has God not yet blessed your union, Mrs. Fogarty? My wife and I are in complete

accord on that subject, Mrs.

Oneiden. Without children, a man might just as well not have been born.

Except for that sullen law of mine. He doesn't care if his little mighty

daughter lives or dies.

Pardon, sir. I thought I'd shot and saved him.

Is he dead?

If you please.

Leonora, go below, child.

Return below this instant, I say.

How do I thank you, sir?

You've obliged me, sir, by going below and taking your daughter with you.

Thank you, my love.

I'm dead.

Captain Baines, may I suggest that we shorten canvas?

you a debt of gratitude.

You owe me nothing.

Oh, on the contrary, sir.

My daughter is very dear to me.

She's all I have.

Ever since my dear wife passed over.

Believe me, sir, I too was inconsolable.

I believed my world to have come to an end.

You will not at this moment accept my... My word.

But I do assure you that the memory will fade.

Now, please accept my condolences.

And those of my daughter.

She has a great admiration for you, Mr. O 'Neill.

She's a child. On the contrary, sir.

Leonora is no longer a child.

She is a woman.

Daniel, it's past your clock.

I know.

These accounts won't settle themselves.

I need to go.

Whose bed?

Yours?

If you wish.

If I wish.

Don't you ever.

No, of course you don't.

Not once in our entire marriage have you.

I've got to bed, Emma. I've work to do.

Well, let me help.

Really, Daniel, you're such a muddler.

These accounts go here and those there.

Incomings and outgoings.

Really, it's quite simple. Let me see you simplify these.

What are they?

Phrasers, donning us for money.

Oh, they'll extend our credit.

Not for £32 ,000.

So much?

Six months ago, I placed an order for two new bark and fiends at a cost of 15

,000 pounds apiece.

There's been a trade depression since those fixed ships laid off before more

undergoing repair and refitting.

We don't have the cash, Emma. We're running at a lot as it is.

But we still have 16 ships in commission.

That should be profit enough. You don't understand. I understand only too

clearly. When we were married, you took over control of the company. And from

that day forth, we seem to have done nothing but lose money.

Now, when my uncle was a little... When Mr Callan died, the company was past its

peak. It was overextended. Too many ships chasing too few cargo. Excuse it.

If you concentrated your mind upon the business side of things instead of

furthering your idiotic quarrel with James... James don't need it. It has

nothing to do with it. I only wish you had one half his business acumen.

At least he manages to keep his ships in service and at a profit I'll be bound.

So could I, but play this game. And what might that be?

Buying up rotten ships, patching them up.

Lording him up to the gunwales and sending him out to seek to found her in

first half -gale. And how many ships has he lost?

He has the devil's own luck.

I doubt if luck plays much part in James O 'Neill's calculations.

He concentrates his mind upon his business. No one can work harder than

You allow yourself to be distracted.

Rushing hither and thither, trying to do every task yourself.

Harassing everyone from Clark's to Vichel's until there isn't anyone left

employ who isn't at his wit's end.

I know the cure for that.

You could have married Elizabeth and gone to perdition together.

I'd sooner burn in hell than spend another day in your presence.

And do you find mine so distasteful I can marry soon for the cure for that as

well?

There, there.

My little suet dumpling.

There, there.

Give her to me.

Poor little mite.

I think she's cutting her tooth.

Aye, possibly.

But she's a weakly child, always ailing. There, my precious.

There.

Fine father she's inherited.

Captain James who needed is no sooner off one ship than he's aboard of

Couldn't even spare the time to attend his own daughter's christening.

Aye, it's true he has little regard for the child.

The man's inhuman.

I doubt he'll ever forgive her, poor little man.

Forgive her for what?

For being born.

For Anne's death.

I warned Anne.

The moment she set her eyes on the rogue.

All in your seats, girl, I said.

I'd run her for the wind.

But she took no heed, poor thing. Sarah!

What? Well, it's time for me touch.

Oh, all right.

Fair enough.

I've been accepted.

It's all here.

I've been adopted as prospective candidate in the liberal interest for

council. Oh, Robert!

First a councillor, then an alderman and a man.

Well, he's got to be elected first.

But I'll drink to it.

Well, it is a step in the right direction, Captain Webster.

And not before time, either. Mr Gladstone owes it to you. After all,

a lifelong supporter of his policies. No, not specifically, Mr Gladstone.

No, it's Mr Plimsoll who's promised his support.

You know of his lifelong interest in shipping, of course.

Well, he has promised to pass a visit and speak on my behalf.

Introduce me to the vault, as it were.

Mr. Plimsoll, here?

Oh, no, no. He'll probably stop at a hotel.

But I have no doubt he will find time to honour us with a visit. I thought we

might ask him to dinner.

When? The day after tomorrow.

Oh, Robert, that's too short notice.

So you're off to the hostings, eh, young fellow?

Aye. And what constituency do you hope to represent?

Garston. Garston.

You need all the good where you can lay your hands on there.

Yes, miss?

Has Mr. O 'Neden always been such a foul -faced old grouch boy?

Well, let me put it this way, miss. Mr. O 'Neden was never the sort of man to

pick an argument with.

Oh, I would never dream of contradicting any opinion held by Mr. O 'Neden, ever.

I wish to gain his approbation, not otherwise.

Poor Kapar has almost abandoned hope of ever expressing his gratitude.

If you want to find yourself in Mr. and Eden's good books, I can only advise

that you, well, keep quiet, speak only when you're spoke to, and pussyfoot

around as though walking on eggshell.

I was hoping for something more positive.

What would please you most?

Oh.

Let's have a drink.

Coal? I am in a position to offer a long -term contract.

Coal out of Bilbao, iron ore back.

You will appreciate that as a matter of common business prudence, I must ask for

your assurance that your ships will be able to deliver at regular and

intervals. You have it.

In writing, if you please. Put into the contract, subject to the normal perils

and hazards of the sea. I know the clause well.

Why?

Why this sudden act of generosity?

I'm not being overly generous, Mr. O 'Neill. The freight I offer will be at

seven and six a ton.

Well, I'll take it. But you know owners that fight like cats in a sack for an

offer like that.

You know that. I know that. So I'll ask you again. Why?

Well, that was my daughter's idea.

It seems to have taken quite a fancy to you.

It's the best I cannot for the life of me understand why.

Personally, I find you a rude, ill -mannered boy, entirely devoted to self

-interest. Well, I never allow sentiment to interrupt business.

Yes, well, I too am a practical man, sir, and it is my conclusion that this

transaction can be mutually profitable.

My pits can keep your ships busy, and your ships can keep my pits working to

capacity. Well, that's clearly understood. I'll accept your offer.

Subject to contract?

I'd have it no other way.

Yeah, but under the circumstances, I have no choice.

I must call in all outstanding debts.

But we shall be bankrupt.

There's no need for you to bother your pretty little head about business

matters. Mr. Fogarty has quite suddenly decided to return to a seafaring life.

The devil he has.

And I'm such an income poop in money matters.

Daniel says I cannot even keep household accounts correctly.

The man's a fool.

There, there, my dear. Don't take on so.

We'll set ourselves down and see if we can't talk this thing out.

You take a glass of sherry wine and dry those tears.

Flying capsules pay all debts, they say.

But it's a poor -hearted man who'll run away to sea rather than face up to his

obligations. I'm afraid my husband does not have your business acumen, Mr

Fraser. He doesn't deserve you, and that's a fact.

Only I had someone of your knowledge and experience to advise me.

Poor Daniel.

He really has no business sense at all.

He's brought both of us to a pretty pass.

He's left me with two brand -new vessels just completed, four others undergoing

repair. And from what you've just told me, I doubt if I shall ever see the

colour of his money.

Really, Daniel has behaved most abominably.

Well, there's only one thing for it.

You must keep our ships in discharge of debt.

Of no doubt, your offer is well -intentioned, but even putting them up

auction wouldn't recover half the debt.

Well, then, would it not be more profitable if you were to manage them

Oh, there's a sight more to trading than owning a few ships, young lady, as your

husband has found to his cost. Well, we still have the trading facilities.

What is lacking is a man of ability capable of putting my poor affairs into

order.

Surely Elizabeth's not contemplating running off to sea without leaving some

responsible person in charge.

He's sworn to wind up the company and sell off all our holdings.

Say, on a falling market, the man's a blockhead. I'm afraid he's quite made up

his mind.

My husband really is the most obstinate of men, and I don't know to whom I can

turn.

I should consider it a privilege if you would look upon me as your guide and

mentor.

You're so unkind.

Shipping, eh?

It'd be a new venture.

No, I couldn't afford to buy him out.

My yard at a standstill, ship's half built upon the stocks.

By God, George Callum must be turning in his grave.

The work of a lifetime gone to waste.

My late uncle thought very highly of you, Mr Fraser.

Aye, we were good friends.

Good friends.

A man like that would keep your head above financial waters.

Or indeed, yourself.

Me? Oh, no, no, no. Quite out of the question.

For one thing, the capital investment would be far too high.

Money? Yes, that's the commodity, young lady.

Money. Oh, well, I thought... Yes?

Oh, perhaps I shouldn't propose it.

I don't really understand these things.

Oh, come now.

You've taken me into your confidence thus far.

have control of the company, and say you won't half, and in return you received

half the profits, which would only be fair and just because you would be

into it your knowledge and experience, and... Does that make any sense?

I'm afraid you must think me a fool.

No, no, no. Of course not. Your proposal would make uncommon good sense, but...

Yes?

A fifth... 50 -50 holding would result in a pull -devil, pull -baker situation.

Well, then, a 51 % holding in your favour. Is that the correct phrase?

Mind you, I would only undertake it for your sake and not to put nearly half the

profits into the pocket of that feckless husband.

Surely papers could be drawn up ensuring that the profits would be shared

between you and I. He would never agree.

Oh, I think he will.

And I think our first joint action should be a change of name.

The Fraser Shipping Company.

Are you acquainted with that tin? Well, all people.

The devil's that fellow, huh?

Taking a photographic likeness, I reckon, sir.

Do I have the privilege of addressing Mr. Needin, Mr.

James Needin? Yes, you do.

What is this contraption?

Tool of science in the aid of God's work.

And what particular aspects of the Almighty's duties have you taken on your

shoulders? A sacred trust, Mr. Needin, a sacred trust.

My concern is with the safety and welfare of that most unfortunate of

the British seaman.

Claptrap.

You have the politician's knack of never answering questions.

Ah, the camera.

Well, that, sir, supplies incontrovertible photographic evidence.

What of?

Of overloading, Mr. O 'Neill.

The carrying of deck cargo to the hazard of life and limb.

To say nothing of the safety of your ship.

On freight so low, a man must make his profits where he can.

Ah, Mr.

Bedoff, good day to you, sir. How is the campaign going?

Ah, well, I make more enemies than friends.

And that, I think...

is a measure of its success, eh?

Right, my good fellows.

Number two key.

Carefully now, carefully, careful.

And that.

Must away, sir. Busy times.

Busy times.

Got anything?

Good.

Who is he?

Samuel Plimthole.

You can do better than this, James. I'm content.

You can afford the best.

Never had your taste of a fanciful living, Elizabeth.

Oh, leave off your hair shirt, James. I'm not impressed.

However, I did think that with Albert away... Albert away?

Where the devil is Albert?

Buenos Aires in the Argentine.

I've a house full of idle servants. The Argentine. It's a large house, plenty of

room. What the devil's he doing in the Argentine? I thought you could come and

stay with me until Albert's returned. Come and stay with you?

Think of the money you'd save.

Stop chattering about money and houses and tell me what the devil is doing in

the Argentine. Business.

Business? It's business if he had overseen work on the steamship, not

off to the ends of the earth. It's to do with the steamship. Ah, so.

He left a letter.

housekeeper, cooks as she cleans. You'll eat more than the proverbial peck of

dust before you die.

Refrigerated meat.

It's absolute nonsense to imagine you could live alone in such an

You'll simply sit here all day brooding like a hen under a bucket.

Your husband's a dreamer.

Well, if practical men like you and Daniel Fogarty had backed his ideas

of bickering like schoolchildren, that ship would by now be on the high seas

earning good money.

Building ships takes cash, not dreams.

Now the fool's taken himself off on some fool's errand to investigate the

possibility of shipping refrigerated meat.

Whatever the devil that means.

Well, it's a sort of ice -making machine.

Why? And it means once perfected... Once perfected? ...we'll be able to import

prime meat from all over the world. Well, that day may very well come, but

know something?

Albert will not be the innovator.

Not the man I took him for.

Nor are you these days, James.

You're not one half the man you once were.

You've lost your spirit.

Those worthy and honest yeomen who earn their bread by the sweat of their brow

and do not disrupt the commerce of the country with stoppages of work and

incessant demands for more pay.

For make no mistake, gentlemen, commerce is the live blood of this country.

Oh, bravo, Robert. Well said.

Express those sentiments to a meeting of the lower deck and they'll hang you

from the nearest yard hub.

Oh, I've pitched it too strong, have I? I think you've pitched it in the wrong

direction, Robert.

You'll be speaking to a crowd of seamen, not a meeting at the Chamber of

Commerce. Oh, well, perhaps I should reword that passage.

Why? I think it's a very brave speech and about time somebody stood up and

the labouring classes a few home truths, no matter what the consequences.

No, no, Sarah.

I'm always ready to listen to reasoned criticism, no? The lectures are what

were in my day, luckily for you. We were through a pompous idiot into a cesspit.

Well, anyway, I've deleted that passage.

And I'll say something like this.

I'll criticise the owners.

And I'll call a plague upon the houses of those owners, those villainous

who, for the sake of quick profits...

Jeopardize the lives of honest British seamen.

That should bring the house down. Papal hypocrisy. You're a trimmer, sir, a

trimmer. Really, Captain Webster, try and remember you are a guest in this

house. And under sufferance. I'm seldom allowed to forget it.

You still have one problem to surmount, Robert.

What might that be?

Living down the family name.

Only din.

These are the latest estimates.

More money.

Costs are rising.

Freights are falling.

I'm well aware of that, Mr. O 'Neill.

Which is why I must press for settlement of the account.

Well, you'll be paid on completion.

Stage payment, Mr. O 'Neill. And I drew up that contract myself.

Which is why I inserted a penalty clause against delay.

The Anne O 'Neill will be ready on time.

£15 ,000.

For an engine.

She'll not sail far without one.

But the original estimate was for 10 ,000 pounds.

Improvements in engineering move apace, Mr. O 'Neill.

This is an even more powerful engine than my son had first envisaged. The

greater the power, the greater the speed.

And the greater the cost.

Look, you attend to designer specification, and I'll attend to the

employment.

I can't afford the loss of cargo space and tell by a larger engine.

Come now, 50 ,000 pounds was a tribe.

I am spent.

That never went through my book.

Have you been playing ducks and drakes with your company account, using

steamship money to keep your sailing ships running? Unless those sailing

keep running, the ammunition will be just so much scrap iron.

May I remind you that that is shareholders' money?

My money.

My son has a 15 % holding.

A small step on the road to insolvency.

Look, you keep within your estimates, Fraser.

All those shares won't be worth the paper they're written.

So I'm to hand over half the company to Fraser, just like that.

In return for a 49 % holding, we are relieved from our obligations.

You'll get a far better price by selling out everything, lock, stock and barrel.

I intend to live off income, not capital. Capital can be invested. I am

investing it.

With Mr Fraser.

Our money.

My money?

That's always been a sore point with you, hasn't it?

Not with me, Daniel.

With you.

I do not need your money.

Then sign.

Here, here and here.

Then you will be free.

What are you doing aboard this ship?

Get off this ship!

Hold down that house flag, will you?

Yes, I heard you were going back to sea.

Aye. And I'm master of this ship.

I heard that too.

You see, this is an Aeneid ship.

An uninsured ship is the safest ship.

It's the quickest way to bankruptcy.

Exactly, sir.

Therefore, it is in the owner's best interest to see that his vessels are

and seaworthy.

Now, before insurance was adopted, every ship was most carefully overhauled. But

since the advent of insurance, this great care has relaxed because now the

owner's property is safe, whatever the outcome.

Plausible but untrue. Pressure to insure comes from the merchant. No question of

it. If a ship is lost, I expect to recover the value of my cargo.

Well, there is as yet no means of preventing your fully insured

being shipped aboard some rotten old scow ready to fall apart at the first

And that is the purpose of my proposed bill, gentlemen.

Put an end once and for all to this disgraceful situation.

Hear, hear.

I'm against it. It smacks of government interference.

The rule of law, sir, subjects us all to government interference.

With the exception of ship owners, it would seem.

Well spoken, Mrs. Fraser.

I know of no ship owner who counts himself above the law.

If Mr.

O 'Neden here were to slit a man's throat for gain, would you account him

the law?

No. And yet, should he knowingly send an unseaworthy ship to sea and thereby

cause all aboard to drown like so many rats, there is no authority in the

United Kingdom which can hold him culpable.

That, sir, is a situation which I say can no longer be borne. Hear, hear.

Well, so much for theory.

What a practice, eh?

Mr. Plimsoll, for my part, I'm prepared to accept Mr. O 'Neill's assurance that

his ships are sound and seaworthy. Accept because you must.

You can have no better guarantor than Fraser here.

Fraser's yards refit and overhaul my ships at regular intervals.

Well, you will acquire a much larger house in the near future.

The shop and premises are so encroached on the domestic side as to make it

positively embarrassing.

And we do so miss the use of a withdrawing room.

Is yours a large house, Leonora?

Well, we have two houses, actually.

A small town residence and a great drafty barn of a place at St. Helens.

Very old and spooky.

People say that it's haunted.

I've never seen anything, but I have felt a presence.

No doubt the shade of an owner crying for lost profits.

I'm sure my brother will find it excellent company.

Should he accept your invitation?

Oh, he will.

He must?

Every ship that leaves my yard is as sound as a bell.

You have my word for it.

And then you have no further control.

There is nothing in this whole wide world to prevent Mr. Needham from

that sound ship down to the gunnels and then topping off with cumbered deck

cargo. Now, my proposals will put an end to this pernicious practice.

I'm not quite so addicted to losing ships as you imagine.

I am proposing to remove the temptation.

How? By painting a line along the ship's side?

Beyond which mark? No ship will be permitted to load.

That's quite impracticable.

Can you see those profits slipping through your fingers already, eh? Aye, I

If that proposal ever finds its way onto the statute books, we shall be at the

mercy of our foreign competitors.

They'll not be daubing Mr. Plimsoll's mark along the sides of their ships. You

can't legislate for wind and sea.

You must agree, gentlemen, that a well -found ship is more likely to ride out a

tempest than one with its decks awash.

You can pattern down an empty ship tight as a cask.

And she'll still go to the...

Devil.

Devil!

Shit devils.

That's what we call them, gentlemen.

That's why the minstrel went down like a stone. No warning. She broke in half

and went straight to the bottom.

Ship devils.

This timber's rotten.

Oh, it's not just the timber that should concern us, gentlemen, but the bolts.

Sham bolts.

They're the ship devils.

The purpose is to pin the outer planking to the vertical ribs. A ship is

literally stitched together by means of these bolts.

Specifications demand that they be fashioned of copper. But whereas copper

expensive, iron is cheap.

Copper is impervious to the action of seawater.

Iron rapidly corrodes.

Well, the head is of copper.

No, in order that the bolts may pass inspection, the shaft is of iron.

Are you saying, Captain Fogarty, that this ship was fastened together with

shambles with full knowledge of the inevitable consequences?

They certainly didn't find their way there by chance.

But this is criminal, sir. Criminal.

Is this practice widespread?

Some ship owners never buy a new ship. They simply buy an old vessel, whirl

its prime, send it to the shipyards for the cheapest possible repairs, and then

send it out to sea to take its chances.

Namey names, sir.

Namey names.

And I give you my word that I will not rest until these scoundrels are brought

to justice.

You will appreciate, Mr. O 'Neill, that under the circumstances, I can no longer

sustain my offer of a contract.

Ships are lost at sea almost daily.

And for many, many reasons. But the most common of all is faulty seamanship. Now

think upon it, Mr. Biddle.

Here's a man, Captain Fogarty, returns to sea after a long stay ashore.

His ship is wrecked.

He finds himself the sole survivor and promptly pours out a tale of a ship

by devils. I have seen the evidence.

Evidence?

What you saw was a bit of rotten planking, a couple of sheared -off

Now, your friend, Mr. Plimsoll, will have to do better than that or he'll get

short -stripped from Mr. Fraser. That I can promise you.

They never came from my yard.

Will you not deny that the vessel was sent to you for repair? I have no

intention of affirming or denying anything to you, sir, beyond repeating

yards are not responsible.

I'm afraid that a simple denial of responsibility will not satisfy a

inquiry. To the devil with you and your tomfoolery!

Have you no eyes on your head?

Look at that timber!

It's riddled with rot, sir. Does it not tell you anything?

Certainly. It reinforces my argument that that ship should never have put the

sea in the first place.

And I hold you and the needy to be equally culpable.

Public! And I intend to make my findings public, sir.

But ain't you?

It came by packet, straight from Buenos Aires.

Albert handed it to the ship's master for safekeeping.

The monster!

He says he's been offered a position by an Argentine meatpacking company.

Excellent prospects, house and servants, an extremely generous salary.

Oh, with that...

Splendid. Splendid?

What's so splendid about it? He must have taken leave of his senses.

He has the effrontery to imagine that I will pack up immediately and transport

myself to take up residence among a lot of wild Patagonians.

But Elizabeth, it's a wife's duty to follow her husband.

Duty? To give up all my friends and spend the rest of my days in some

plague spot at the other end of the earth?

Speak to Albert of duty, not me. His place is here, at home.

Come now, Elizabeth. I've heard the Argentine is quite civilized. They do

speak English.

A grand total of 412 tons, ladies and gentlemen, on a ship of 300

tons gross tonnage.

Now, Captain Fogarty states that in his professional opinion, the ship was

overloaded. He continues.

We sailed in half a gale.

At dawn the following morning...

The carpenter sounded and found that we were taking water rapidly.

I ordered the ship to return to port.

In carrying out the manoeuvre, the ship, completely without warning, broke in

two, literally falling to pieces.

I think she's settled at last.

Surely Robert could well afford to pay a woman to come and sit with the child.

The child is James's responsibility, not Robert's.

Poor little mind.

Oh? And since when were you so fond of children?

I have always wanted children.

It's Albert who's been... reluctant.

Elizabeth, if there's been a coldness between you and Albert, what better

opportunity of starting a press than by joining him abroad?

Nothing will persuade me to go and live among the heathens of Patagonia.

Oh, I do wish you'd stop calling it Patagonia.

Robert and I have looked it up on Samuel's full atlas.

The town of Buenos Aires lies on the River Plate.

It has a very salubrious climate and a well -established English colony, so

there should be no language difficulty either.

There certainly will not be, for I'm not going.

I've told you before, Elizabeth, it's your wifely duty.

I am not leaving England.

Be reasonable, Elizabeth.

You say you want children.

Well, yes, but... And surely Albert wants a son of his own.

Albert's been very good to William. But it isn't the same.

Oh, I know he'd love a son of his own, but... Well, he doesn't... I mean...

Things will change, you see.

I've heard that tropic climes tend to overheat the blood and inflame the

passions. Well, he certainly hasn't written a very passionate letter.

Fondest regards to yourself and William.

You must learn to read between the lines, Elizabeth.

A moon -loving letter will follow, you'll see.

Well, if such a letter should arrive, then I'll make my decision.

But you can wait no longer, Elizabeth.

You'll soon make new friends.

And you should be able to live in considerable style, certainly better

you're able to do here.

My lovely house.

Now there, we may be able to help you. Oh?

Well, Robert has decided it's time we started looking for a new situation.

New situation?

Well, naturally, family come first, as I'm sure you'll agree.

First for what?

Well, your establishment, whatever your decision, will now be completely beyond

your means. I can manage, Sarah.

Albert is sending me a sufficient allowance.

Stay here and he'll not remit you another penny -pee.

I know why you're so anxious for me to go, both of you.

You want my house.

The secretary of Lloyd's told me that he does not know of a single ship that has

been voluntarily broken up by its owners.

Worn -out vessels are bought up by reckless speculators.

He's using the case of the minstrel as a peg on which to hang his argument.

Perhaps we can take him down a peg until later. Brave men are sent to their

deaths, their wives made widows, their children fatherless, in order that a few

speculative scoundrels, in whose hearts there is neither fear of God or love of

man, may make unhallowed gain.

And I tell you, my friends, that until a load line is established by act of

Parliament and enforced with all the rigor of the law, The tragedy of the

minstrel will be repeated again and again until those sorrowing widows and

orphans of our seaports rise up and cry vengeance upon those grasping avaricious

men.

Are you now claiming,

sir, in direct contradiction to our yesterday's conversation, that the

found it because she was overloaded?

The ship sank, sir, because she was unseaworthy. Or because she was ill

-commanded.

Where's Captain Fogarty, eh?

There's a question or two that I should like to put to him.

Captain Fogarty is recuperating, sir, from his recent unfortunate experience

having taken command of a needy ship.

For a taste of your oratory is more than he can stomach. Well, that I can quite

understand.

May I now have a straight answer to my question, sir?

Certainly, sir.

The ship sank with grievous loss of life on two counts.

One, she was grossly overloaded.

Rubbish! And two, she was ill -repaired with sham boats from your

yards, Mr. Fraser.

Prove it!

That is a deliberate misrepresentation and false vacation of fact.

A function masquerading as evident.

Yes, prove it.

You who speak so freely of sham bolts will be better advised not to make sham

speeches. Veracity and yourself, sir, would appear to be strangers.

This world, sir, tells its own story.

Hey, you!

Come here!

Now, I'll pay a penny apiece for every one of these boats you find.

Now carried out a thorough investigation.

Here's a copy of the report.

Thank you.

I'll summarize it for you.

Mr. O 'Neill inboard the millstool at auction.

Because these sham bolts have copper heads, they're deceived, as they were

intended to, both Mr. O 'Neill and myself, when the ship was brought to my

for repair and refitting.

Once the ship was dry docked, my yard foreman and myself...

followed the customary practice of chalk marking all timber requiring

replacement. Am I to understand that you're now seeking to shift the burden

responsibility to some other unidentified shipbuilder who repaired

the past?

I've no doubt there are as many artful dodgers among shipbuilders as there are

among parliamentarians.

My carpenters ripped out all the suspect timbers, replaced them with sound, and

pinned them with these new copper bolts.

some of which Captain Baines found among the wreckage.

But these rotten bolts also came from the vessel and caused it to founder.

Now, why were they not replaced?

Because no one was aware of their existence.

At some time in the past, the whole midship section had been repaired with

timbers, but with these sham bolts.

But this timber is rotten.

But that timber comes from the bullocks.

Aye, above the waterline, no danger to the ship at all if Captain Fogarty knew

his business.

He never represented this as evidence.

Is this true, Captain Fogarty? For if it is, by God!

I didn't know.

I swear, I didn't know!

Well, good day, gentlemen.

I shall read this report fully at home.

But I do assure you of one thing, Mr. Fraser, whether you be right or wrong,

someone shall bleed for it.

Good day to you. Good day.

Captain Fogarty.

I accept your word.

Thank you.

You were quick to assess the reason for the loss of your ship. Sean Vault.

Aye. And that was sharp thinking, Captain Fogarty.

Sharp thinking.

Are you still set on the command of a ship?

I am.

Would you consider sailing under a new flyer?

Fraser and Company?

You would offer me command.

I'm now in competition with O 'Neill.

You come with the highest recommendation.

You'll not go, of course.

Well, thank you. I felt sure you'd lecture me in my duty.

A man's a witless fool.

Look, a failure carries failure with him. Change of country doesn't make for

success. A man who can design a steamship like the Anno need in is no

James. He's a dreamer. Like the rest of us can't expect everybody else to do his

bidding. Well, at least he has the courage to start anew. The need to start

is the sure mark of a lack of past success. Now, look, don't do likewise.

Stay here.

Take my advice, eh? Now, look, sell your house and your furniture. Get a more

modest establishment and try to live within your means.

I shall keep my house.

You can't afford it.

That's your son to consider. How about his school fees?

Your extravagant taste, a dwindling income, a sure recipe for disaster.

Now, I've been considering your proposal.

What proposal? Well, that we should...

Set up residence together. I'm looking for a trustworthy housekeeper, somebody

that I can trust. I understand.

Well, think about it.

No. I shall not give up my house. How will you manage? Are you really so

concerned on my behalf, James?

You are my sister.

Oh, be honest, James.

Sarah's been complaining about looking after your daughter.

Now you want me to come and live here so that I can look after her. I can...

Oh, am I interrupting?

No, I was just leaving.

Not on my account, Mrs. Fraser.

Oh, no, Miss Biddulph.

My interview is at a conclusion.

However, should you wish to apply for the position of unpaid housekeeper and

drudge, I'm sure my brother will give you a sympathetic hearing.

Goodbye, James.

Oh, I should love to apply.

I'm a most excellent cook.

Miss Biddulph, my sister has a somewhat acid sense of humour.

It's a family trait.

Oh.

I called to tell you the news of the coal contract. My father has changed his

mind. Yes, I'd heard.

Led me to gather that he could no longer sustain his offer.

No, what I meant was he's been persuaded to change it again.

You ought to have the contract.

Persuaded?

By whom?

I always get my own way, Mr. O 'Neill.

Oh?