All language subtitles for xxyyzzCrimes.at.the.Dark.House.1940.1080p.BluRay.REMUX.AVC.FLAC.1.0-EPSiLON_Track04_PGS

(GROANING)

(CACKLING)

(CHUCKLING)

(GIGGLING)

I wonder if he's altered much.

Don't be silly. That was painted
when he was about twelve.

He's nearly forty now.

I only hope he's better-tempered
than his mean old father was.

Ssh! It is wicked
to speak ill of the dead.

When the new master
has paid out my wages,

perhaps I'll feel better disposed
towards the old.

Stop that chatter, Jessica!
Get on with your work.

Sir Percival could be here
at any moment now.

I hope he'll be bringing
some money with him.

I've a new go-to-meeting dress
to be collected, when I can pay for it.

Hold your tongue!

Haven't you heard that Sir Percival
has made a large fortune

in the gold fields of Australia?

-JESSICA: I've heard so.
-MRS BULLEN: Then be quiet.

The carriage is
coming up the drive.

Quick, Jessica, fetch the others!
Tell them Sir Percival is here.

(HOOFBEATS APPROACHING)

On behalf of the servants,
may I extend you

a cordial welcome, Sir Percival?

You may, my man.
You, I take it, are my butler?

-I am, Sir Percival.
-And you?

Mrs Bullen, your housekeeper.

How long have you
been in service here?

Eighteen years.

Then you don't
remember me as a boy?

No, Sir Percival.

Are there any
servants here who do?

No. I regret to say none, sir.

(TUTTING)
Pity.

Great pity.

Servants are waiting
to greet you, Sir Percival.

You can all go
about your business.

Last girl but one, with the
dimples and the neat ankles.

What duties does she perform?

Those are the parlourmaids,
Sir Percival.

Oh, so she will bring me up
my hot water tomorrow morning, eh?

No, she's not allowed
in the bedroom, Sir Percival.

-Indeed, and why not?
-Because she's a parlourmaid.

From now on,
she's a chambermaid.

I want her to bring me up my
water in the morning.

Will it please you to see
Mr Merriman now, Sir Percival?

Mr Merriman?

Your old family lawyer.

One of the few people who do
remember you when you were a boy.

Oh, yes, of course.
Dear old Merriboy.

-Man. Mr Merriman, sir.
-Oh, yes, of course. Merriman.

So, he knew me
when I was a boy, did he?

Yes. Will you see him?

No, no, I... I don't think
I'll bother with him now.

He's waiting for you
in the library.

Oh, well, I might as well
get it over.

-Where do you say he is?
-In the library.

And the library is, er...

still in the same place?

Yes, Sir Percival.

Perhaps it would be as well
if you would go in first.

(SNORING)

Sir Percival Glyde, Mr Merriman.

-Hearty greetings, Sir Percival!
-How do you do?

Pray be seated, sir.

I trust your long and arduous journey
has not taxed you unduly?

I can best answer your question,
sir, by reminding you

that I've spent the greater part
of my life in the wilds.

-(CHUCKLING) Of course, of course.
-Now, let me see...

How many years is it
since we last met?

Oh, a great many, I'm afraid.

-I'd never have known you again.
-No, and I should never have known you.

But there, time does alter one,
doesn't it?

Yes, yes. Er...

Well, it remains for me
to hand everything over to you

and give you an account
of my stewardship.

-Ajust and an honest one, I know.
-My dear sir.

-My very dear sir.
-(CHUCKLING)

I have here
a copy of your account

at the banking house of
Stukeley, Cobbold & Cobbold.

You will see here
that your balance stands

at fifteen thousand
seven hundred and eighty-two pounds,

eighteen shillings and fivepence.

Is that so?

I would point out the reason
it stands at this figure is

that all your interests
have been paid.

-Interests?
-On the mortgages.

My mortgages!
Oh, then the interests are all in?

No. All out.

Why? What do you mean?

Is it possible you don't know
that this house is mortgaged?

-Mortgaged?
-Yes, and the furniture.

-Furniture?
-And the estate.

-Estate.
-And all the timber on the estate.

And... Well, in fact,
everything's mortgaged.

Then what did my father leave me?

He left a debt of fifteen thousand
seven hundred and eighty-two pounds,

eighteen shillings and fivepence.

Then why not pay it off with that?

But...

But that is the debt.

It's not a credit balance, my dear sir,
it's an overdraft.

What?!

Mr Cobbold was delighted to hear
you were returning.

It's a bigger overdraft
than he likes,

but, with the vast fortune
you've accumulated

in the gold fields of Australia,
you will soon wipe that off.

And who told you I'd
accumulated a vast fortune?

-But haven't you?
-I have not!

Oh, but your father...

It was his cherished hope
that you'd come back

and place Blackwater
on its feet again.

Oh, it was, was it?

That, I feel sure, is the reason
he repented his attitude towards you.

I have but sixty sovereigns
as a reward

for years of sweat and privation.

Bless my soul!

Oh, a fine homecoming
for a man, I must say.

So far, Sir Percival, you've only heard
the debit side of your account.

We haven't yet touched on
the credit side.

Is there a credit side?

Before we proceed any further,
Sir Percival,

it's my duty to satisfy myself
formally as to your identity.

Oh, merely as a matter
of legal form, of course.

Well, apart from the signet ring,

there are several letters
from my father in my luggage,

together with a letter from you
notifying me of his death.

And the oval-shaped mole
on your right hip.

Damme, sir, are you asking me
to remove my trousers?

Er... We will waive
the question of the mole.

Won't you sit down?

Now, tell me about this credit side.

Doubtless you will remember

your father's very old and
dear friend, Mr Frederick Fairlie.

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

It was your father's dearest wish

that you should marry
Mr Fair|ie's niece and ward, Laura.

Very kind of him, I'm sure.

The lady is young and comely, I hope.

Er, she is young.
Barely of age.

As to whether she's comely,
I cannot say. I've not met her.

But that point
is of no importance.

It may not be to you.

It is of importance to me,
if she's to share my bed.

What I think is important

is that her father left her
a hundred thousand pounds.

The devil he did!

Do you mean she's to take
my overdraft in exchange for me?

It would be wiser not to mention
the overdraft to Mr Fairlie

until after you are married.

Hasn't the young lady
anything to say about it?

Dutiful and obedient young ladies
do as their guardians wish.

I only trust you will do
as your father wished.

A hundred thousand!

How could I disobey
my dear old father?

When may I see the young lady?

Here's Mr Fair|ie's address.

Write and tell him
that you are home,

and ask his permission
to pay your addresses to his niece.

I'm wondering what Uncle
will think of this when he sees it.

My dear Laura, has Uncle
ever said he was pleased

-with anything we say or do?
-No.

Then why wonder what
he will think of your painting?

Mr Hartwright is pleased with it.

During the three months
Mr Hartwright has been your tutor,

has he ever been displeased
with anything you say or do?

Really, Marian, I...

-Marian...
-I'm going to sneeze.

Louis, the inhalant! Quick!

How dare you disseminate
your beastly germs in this room?

If you have a cold, stay in bed.
Don't give it to me.

Am I not ill enough already?

Oh, is there some conspiracy
going on in this wretched house?

Do you all want to hound me
into a madhouse?

You know very well
that the slightest sound

runs through me like a knife,

and yet you, Mr Hartwright,
must go and bang the door!

I'm very sorry, sir.

I was under the impression
that I closed it quite quietly.

Now, don't argue with me, don't argue.
I'm far too ill, far too ill.

My smelling-salts, Louis.
My smelling-salts.

Well, Miss Laura, and
how's the work progressing?

Ah, a little indefinite, I feel,

but shows a decided improvement.

You're an apt pupil.

As I am paying
for my nieces' tuition,

perhaps I may be permitted
to see for myself

what progress, if any,
they are making.

But certainly, sir. Of course.

Miss Laura's work shows
decided improvement

and a marked degree of talent.

Well, it shows up,
in a marked degree,

the young lady's sad defects,

and that these lessons are
a waste of time and money.

Now, leave me, all of you.

Leave me in peace.
(BREATHING HEAVILY)

You fidget me. You... You...
You set my nerves on edge.

Ah, Laura, you will stay behind.

Your memory's not faulty?

I don't think so, Uncle Frederick.

Then you will not have forgotten
your father's wishes

that you should marry Percival,
the son of the late Sir Felix Glyde.

I had not forgotten.

Well, Sir Percival Glyde
is coming here shortly

to pay his addresses to you.

But, Uncle, I don't want to
think of marriage yet.

I knew we should have
trouble with you!

You're always troublesome.
Governesses, drawing masters...

I never know whether
I'm on me head or me heels.

I will receive Sir Percival Glyde
at his convenience.

Now, please, go away.

You're setting my nerves
on edge again.

Louis, my smelling-salts!

(GASPING)

No, not those salts, idiot!
The other, the lavender salts.

Was there ever such an
unfortunate man as me?

Fool of a valet, and, er...

heartless and
unmanageable nieces.

And, pray, where are you going to,
my pretty maid?

-(BUCKET CLATTERING)
-|'m going to empty the slops, sir.

Slops? You'll find you've
got a lot of new duties,

now you're transferred
to this part of the house.

Yes, Sir Percival.

They tell me there's a short cut
through the fields to the village.

You know it, eh?

Yes, Sir Percival.

I've forgotten its exact whereabouts.

The moon will be full tonight.

Would you show me the cut?

-Yes, Sir Percival.
-Splendid.

Then meet me at the
lower gate tonight at eight.

And if you're the sensible little girl
that I think you're going to be,

that old scarecrow
of a housekeeper

shall find some more
pleasant duty for you,

for these dainty little fingers.

MRS BULLEN:
Excuse me, Sir Percival.

What is it?

Lady and gentleman
to see you, Sir Percival.

"Dr lsidor Fosco"?
Who's he?

I don't know.
I've never seen him before.

And the lady whose name is
written here, Mrs Catherick.

-Who is she?
-I can't say.

I've shown them into the library.

Come to pay their respects
to the new squire, no doubt.

(HUMMING A TUNE)

I would that I could have
been spared this ordeal.

Oh, come, come, my good lady.

The fact that I, Fosco, am here
to speak on your behalf,

to shoulder your troubles, in fact,

is a guarantee that your feelings
will be respected to the utmost.

Have I the honour of
addressing Sir Percival Glyde?

I am Sir Percival Glyde,
at your service.

And I am your humble
and obedient servant,

lsidor Fosco,
Doctor of Medicine.

And the lady?

Well, I wrote the name
on my card.

I thought it might be
familiar to you.

Mrs Catherick?

Well, er... Can I assist your memory
with one little word?

"Love."

A youthful romance?
An early peccadillo?

What?!

Resulting in the, er...
(CLEARING THROAT)

The birth of a child?

A child?!

A female child, born eight months
after you set sail for Australia.

And what has that to do with me?

Well, really, sir.

L-l-ls not the question
somewhat indelicate?

Are you accusing me of being
the father of this lady's child?

FOSCO: Er... Mrs Catherick
brings the charge, sir, not I.

A foul, beastly lie!

I'll have the law upon you!

Why, I've never set eyes
on this woman before.

I withdraw the charge.

The gentleman speaks truth.

I have never set eyes
on him before.

Oh, so you've changed your tune.

That is well for you, madam.

But |-|'m bewildered.
Completely bewildered.

What does all this mean?

That he is not the father
of my daughter.

But you assured me that
Sir Percival Glyde...

I did.
But he is not Sir Percival Glyde.

What the devil are you
talking about?

Have you taken leave
of your senses?

Are you quite sure? Are you positive
you're not making a grave mistake?

You realise that you're branding
this gentleman as an impostor?

Oh, the woman is mad!

She should be in an asylum.

The gentleman can prove me wrong

by letting me put to him a
few simple questions.

Questions that
the real Sir Percival Glyde

would have no difficulty
in answering.

And I refuse to be questioned
or cross-examined.

This is either insanity or blackmail.

I leave others to determine which.

Meanwhile, leave my house at once!

Both of you!

Show these people out!

I, um...

I forgot my cane.

Excuse me.

Would it not be better to take me
into your confidence?

-Have a drink.
-No, thank you. I do not indulge.

And I do not trust teetotallers.

I was going to say that I do not
indulge at this time of day.

Kindly inform me,
as briefly as you can,

what brought you and
your female companion here.

I will be discretion itself.

You will have gathered that,
over twenty years ago,

the lady was very much
enamoured of, er... yourself.

And there was a daughter.
Yes, I've gathered that.

-What's she like?
-Oh, beautiful.

Beautiful, but, um...
highly strung.

Occasionally somewhat
unbalanced, poor thing.

-Mental?
-At times.

At others, as normal
as you and me.

-She's safely out of the way?
-I am a mental specialist, sir.

She is in my private asylum.

What is the nature of her madness?

A relentless hatred of her father,

whom she considers has wronged
her mother past forgiveness.

She is safely guarded, I hope?

All my patients are, and, er...
(DISCREET COUGH)

My charges are very modest.

Don't look to me for payment.

I have other things to do
with my money.

She'd better be transferred
to the public asylum.

That will, of course, necessitate

the disclosure to the public authorities
of the girl's parentage.

But your secret is safe with me.

I bid you good day, sir.

Laura Fairlie!

One moment, Fosco.

I feel, after all, that I do owe
this poor child something.

Admirable sentiment, sir.
Most laudable.

I have the account with me.

I cannot settle with you now.

Shortly, you shall receive
your dues and more.

I shall be most happy
to accommodate you, sir.

And this woman, Catherick.

-She's to be trusted?
-Oh...

-She won't tittle-tattle?
-(CHUCKLING) Have no fear.

Her love for her daughter
will prevent that.

And now, just one final word
to you, Dr lsidor Fosco.

Be loyal to your trust,
and it will pay you handsomely.

Betray it, and I'll feed
your entrails to the pigs.

I bid you good day, sir.

(CHUCKLING)

Did you tell him I was
secretly married to Percival Glyde

before he went to Australia?

Well, what would have been the use?
The man is patently an impostor.

I shall expose him.

Would that provide you with
the money to pay me

for keeping your daughter
in the comfort of my asylum?

-Oh, what shall I do?
-Do nothing.

But I can't let my poor girl
go into a public asylum.

I can't! I can't!
(SOBBING)

She will remain in my charge

and the pseudo Sir Percival Glyde
shall pay.

-But, I...
-Now, keep your own counsel.

Don't breathe a word
to a living soul.

Leave everything to me.

I've come to say goodbye, Laura.

Good bye?

I leave for London today.

Today?

Would you have me stay,
in the circumstances?

So you know, then.

Your sister's just told me.

What must you think of me?

Only what I've always thought of you.

I've wanted to tell you before,
but lacked the courage.

Oh, Paul.

I don't want to lose
what little happiness I've known.

Oh, I'm glad you've been happy.

More than I can ever say.

I've been hoping against hope
that my future husband

would never return from Australia.

That, perhaps, he might...

Oh, I suppose it was
wicked of me to hope that.

Our stations in life
are so different.

I should never have presumed
to ask you to marry me.

I should have been quite content
to have gone on

just adoring you from afar.

I shall always continue to do that.

Always.

(HOOFBEATS APPROACHING)

Here he is.
I can't face him. I can't!

-I must go.
-Oh, don't leave me!

At least not at once.
Please, I beg of you.

Quick, promise!

Very well. I shall ask
Mr Fairlie to release me

at the end of the month.

My sister Laura, Sir Percival Glyde.

I count myself fortunate indeed

that my bride-to-be
is so charming and so gracious.

Our drawing master, Mr Hartwright,
Sir Percival.

Drawing master!
What an odd occupation.

Truly is it said,
"it takes all sorts to make a world."

If you'll please excuse me.

-And I, too, Sir Percival.
-Certainly, certainly.

They told me that
you were beautiful,

-but I hardly dared to hope...
-Won't you be seated?

Sir Percival, do you believe
in first impressions?

|ndeed,yes.

First impressions are always right,
and I feel for you..

I am glad, and I beg of you now
at this, our first meeting,

to release me
from this contract.

-But that's impossible.
-I beg of you, Sir Percival.

You ask too much.

Why, when we are married
and friendship has ripened into love,

S66...

It fits perfectly.

A good augury for
our future happiness.

-You like it?
-Thank you.

An engagement is usually
sealed with a kiss.

Sir Percival, please, please!

Gad, how lovely you are.

My uncle will be
awaiting you in his room.

If you will excuse me,
I will retire.

Before you go to him,
I may say

I've arranged for our wedding to
take place on Michaelmas Day.

Michaelmas Day?

Why, that's barely six weeks away.

I couldn't consent to an engagement
of less than a year.

That is ridiculous.

After twenty years
in the lonely wilds,

I feel the need of a wife's
comfort and companionship.

I'm afraid I must insist.

Then, I think I'd better speak
to your uncle forthwith.

I will ring for a servant.

Please take this gentleman
to Mr Fairlie.

(sesame)

Don't cry, Laura, dear.

You're not married to him yet.

That dreadful man insists that I
marry him in six weeks from today.

So soon?

Oh, but that's ridiculous.

And, anyway, the question of time
is for the woman to decide.

Uncle Frederick wrote to tell him

that he could decide
the wedding day.

They won't have it
all their own way.

Let them have their way.

Let us have no more
troubles and heartburnings

that any sacrifice of mine
can prevent.

Oh, say you will live with me,
Marian, when I'm married.

Say no more.

(HOOVES CLIP-CLOPPING)

SIR PERCIVAL:
♪ A carrion crow once sat on a tree

♪ Smgfmg “Hey, Gerry, Gerry down dee

♪ “Hey, deny, Gerry down dee“

♪ The old crow that sat on a... ♪

Hello, Hawkins!

♪ A carrion crow once sat on a tree

♪ Smgmg “Hey, Gerry, hey, Gerry dee“

-Sir Percival?
-We||, what is it?

Oh, take that miserable
look off your face.

-Blackwater is to have a mistress!
-A mistress, Sir Percival?

A wife!
I'm going to be married.

Allow me to congratulate
you, Sir Percival.

Dr Fosco is awaiting you
in the library, Sir Percival.

Fosco! Huh!
He won't keep me long.

Oh, and when he's gone,
Hawkins,

send Jessica to me, here.

I've certain...

instructions to give her.

(CHUCKLING)

Ah, my dear Fosco,
this is indeed a pleasure!

-And how are you, eh?
-We||, er...

Physically, I am well, but...

I was never better, myself.

-If you will excuse me, I won't...
-Oh, but you will.

You will drink my health,
friend Fosco...

-Why?
-For I am to be married.

Oh! Er... Indeed?

To Miss Laura Fairlie
of Limmeridge Hall.

A lady rich and beautiful.

Well, may I offer my congratulations
to both of you, sir.

Thanks, thanks.

And now, about
this paltry sum I owe you.

What does it amount to?

-One hundred and fifty-two pounds, sir.
-Pah! A mere bagatelle.

And I will pay you two years' fees
in advance. Satisfactory?

Well, eminently so,
Sir Percival. I...

For I am to be rich, friend Fosco.

(LAUGHING)
All my troubles are over!

I fear your troubles are only
just beginning, Sir Percival.

Anne Catherick has escaped
from my asylum.

-What?!
-Yes, most regrettable.

-You blundering fool!
-Oh, Sir Percival, please...

I please you? I have a mind
to shake the breath

from out of your greasy little body.
Now, listen to me.

If you wish to escape
with your miserable life,

-you'll find her quickly!
-Yes, sir.

Oh, that this should have happened
at a moment like this,

-just when everything...
-Yes, I understand, sir...

Have you made any plans
for her re-capture?

-Have you been to see her mother?
-Yes, I have.

She'll report to me immediately
the girl goes back.

And what else?

Well, I've invited myself here
as your guest,

I've got a little light luggage,
and I propose to stay the night.

And how the devil do you expect
to find her from this house?

Because her insane hatred of you
is bound to bring her here,

with the intention of
venting her spleen upon you.

And have you organised
the search party?

I suppose no.

I have arranged a thorough
and systematic search

-over a wide area.
-(KNOCKING)

Come in!

Did you want me, Sir Percival?

Yes, that is...
(DISCREET COUGH)

Um... With your permission,
I will go to bed, Sir Percival.

I've had a strenuous day,
and I...

That's right.

Call Hawkins and tell him to
take Dr Fosco up to a bedroom,

and then come back here
for your instructions.

Yes, Sir Percival.

Good night, Sir Percival.

I assure you
this lamentable business

will be brought to
a speedy conclusion.

-I hope so, for both our sakes.
-Yes.

The butler is waiting for you
in the hall, sir.

Thank you.

Red lips and red wine
for the rest of the evening.

Eh, my pretty?

But why so downcast, child?
What's amiss?

They tell me you are
going to be married.

Oh ho ho,
so that's the trouble, is it?

Come, sit you down here.

Love and marriage
are two very different things.

Marriage is a business proposition.
Whereas love...

We drink to love tonight.

-Yes, but...
-But what?

Well, marriage is safer
for a girl, isn't it?

And you promised you'd marry me.

And I'm not a man
to betray a maiden

under an idle promise
of marriage, but...

Oh, I know Miss Fair|ie's
a very rich lady

and, a few weeks ago,
I would have been content.

But now...
(SOBBING)

Oh, what will become of me?

-You... You mean?
-(SOBBING)

You haven't breathed
a word of this to a living soul?

Oh, no, sir.

But, you see,
this changes everything.

You must marry me now,
mustn't you?

-Yes, yes, of course.
-You mean that, sir?

My word is my bond.

But not a mention of this
to anyone.

It shall be our little secret, eh?

Oh, I'm so haPPY-

Upon my soul,
you're a delightful little baggage!

Oh, Sir Percival!

-(SCREAM|NG)
-What the devil?!

There!
There, at the window!

SIR PERCIVAL: At the window?
What do you mean?

A woman!
A woman in white!

A woman in white?
What are you talking about?

Look!

(SCREAMING)

-FOSCO: What's the matter?
-(SCREAMING)

Ghosts! Ghosts!
The house is haunted!

"Ghosts"?

"The house is haunted"?

"Ghosts"?

-Housebreakers?
-No, an apparition!

What? Really, you mean...

-A woman dressed all in white.
-Anne Catherick!

Anne Catherick?

I said she'd come here.

Well, what are you waiting for?
Go on, find her!

Not like this!
But I haven't got my trousers on!

Curse your trousers!

Curse you!
Oh, curse everything!

I wish to see Sir Percival Glyde.

I'm afraid it's too late, sir.
I think Sir Percival has retired.

Oh, no, he hasn't.

What the devil do you want?

Your explanation of this,

which I saw a woman pin on the
noticeboard of the parish church,

-not a hour since.
-Why, what the devil...

-We||, what do you say to it?
-All falsehoods.

A tissue of lies
from beginning to end.

-I wonder.
-Let me tell you this.

If you try to defame my character
in the smallest degree,

I'll swear out a warrant
for your arrest.

And if you harm so much as a single hair
of Miss Laura Fair|ie's head,

or cause her one moment's
pain or unhappiness,

I'll make you regret it
as long as you live, Sir Percival Glyde.

Do you realise you're speaking to
the lord of the manor?

That makes not one tittle of difference
to what I've just said.

Get out!

Or I'll set the dogs on you!

Oh, so you heard, eh?

Oh, well, the door was open.
I really couldn't help...

That mad fool is up to
her tricks already.

She's got to be found,
do you hear me?

She's got to be found!

Of course I share your anxiety,
Sir Percival,

for have I not a stake in your
marriage, to the tune of £152?

An extra hundred to you when
she's safely under lock and key.

But I thought you were
financially embarrassed?

Then I'll give you an I.O.U.
for a hundred pounds,

to be redeemed
as soon as I'm married.

Oh, another hundred pounds.

Oh, Sir Percival.

SIR PERCIVAL:
Well, what do you want?

You didn't used to
talk to me like that.

-And you used not to look like that.
-(WAILING)

Going about the house
like a glass of sour milk.

Oh, for heaven's sake, girl,
try and be bright.

You know why I'm unhappy, sir.

Ssh-ssh-ssh-ssh!
Come in here.

Now, what are you snivelling for?

-My mother.
-You haven't told her?

No, sir. Not a word.
But she's begun to...

She's asking questions,
and you promised.

I know, and I'll keep my word.

We're going to leave all this, Jessica.

You mean,
elope and get married?

And I shall be Lady Glyde?

Yes, tonight.

I'll take you to a place where
it'll be nice and peaceful,

where no-one will ever know.

-You mean that, Sir Percival?
-Of course I mean it.

Meet me at nine o'clock tonight
in the old boathouse by the lake.

Oh, that place scares me in daylight.

-But, at night!
-But I shall be there,

and then you won't
be afraid, will you?

-Oh, no, Percival. I mean, sir.
-That's right.

Then go and pack yourself
a few things.

You're going on a journey.

Yes...

a very long journey-

(CHUCKLING)

Are you...?
Are you there, sir?

Here I am, my dear,
waiting for you.

I'm so glad you didn't
keep me waiting.

I was so afraid.

But you're not afraid now, are you?

-Oh, no, sir.
-What do you do when you're afraid?

-Do you scream?
-Sometimes.

-Do you feel like screaming now?
-Oh, no.

No, we mustn't make a noise,
or someone will hear us,

and that would never do,
would it?

No, sir.
But I needn't call you "sir"

now we're going
to be married, need I?

-Hadn't we better be getting along?
-Just one little kiss first.

Percival!
You're hurting me!

(CACKLING)

So, you wanted to be a bride,
my dear Jessica, did you?

So you shall be!

A bride of Death!

(CACKLING)

(CHUCKLING)

(LAUGHING)

(ORGAN PLAYING MENDELSSOHN'S
"WEDDING MARCH")

-Can you see them?
-Ah, here they are.

It's all over.

(CHATTERING)

-God bless you!
-Good luck to you both!

Aye! Long life and
happiness to you both!

Thank you.
Thank you, all.

(CHEERING)

I must find that woman in white.

I must. I must!

Whoa!

Welcome home, milady.

Mrs Bullen, this is your
new mistress, Lady Glyde.

-Welcome home, milady.
-Thank you.

And this is Lady G|yde's sister,

who will be staying
with Lady Glyde.

Come, my dear.

Well, my dear...

how do you like your new home?

Charming old place, isn't it?

It has an atmosphere
all of its own.

As you say, there
certainly is an atmosphere.

I'm afraid we are
short-staffed, milady.

One of the maids vanished
into thin air, a short while since.

Mrs Bullen,
please show the ladies...

upstairs.

Will you come this way?

That is Miss Fair|ie's room, milady,
at the top of the stairs.

You, of course, will occupy
Sir Perciva|'s suite.

I have placed the table
on the left-hand side, milady.

Doubtless, by tomorrow, you and
Sir Percival will have decided

which side of the bed
you will occupy.

My room is a long way
from this one.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

Come, my little bride.
Cheer up!

This is your wedding night.

Have a drink.

It'll bring a smile
to your pretty face.

-No, thank you.
-No, no, always no.

You must learn that a wife must
sometimes say "yes" to her husband.

MARIAN: And you, Sir Percival,
should know that there are times

when a husband must
show his wife consideration.

Ah, my pretty little sister-in-law.

You're a woman of spirit.

Champion of the oppressed sex, eh?

Well, I like women of spirit.

Here's to the taming of the shrew!

Won't you drink to
the bride and bridegroom?

-I have done so already.
-Oh.

-You will.
-Please, excuse me.

Why should I?
I'm always excusing you.

-I say you shall drink!
-No, no, please.

SIR PERCIVAL:
You can. I'll make you.

Sir Percival, please!

My sister and I have had
a very long and tiring day.

Perhaps we may be
permitted to retire?

Certainly.
I'll ring for Mrs Bullen.

This way, ladies.

SIR PERCIVAL: I shall be
joining you very soon, my dear.

I wonder what it feels like
to be a bride.

How should I know?

Must I be placed
so far away from Lady Glyde?

It's the nearest available room
to Sir Perciva|'s suite.

I've been in with the warming pan.

Goodnight, milady.

(CHUCKLING)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

Well, even she shan't spoil
my wedding night, curse her.

-(LOCK cucmwe)
-(WHIMPERING)

(SIR PERCIVAL CACKLING)

SIR PERCIVAL:
Bills, bills, bills!

Do people think that
I'm made of money?

In accordance
with your instructions,

-I have drawn up this document.
-Good.

If you can persuade
Lady Glyde to sign it,

you will have immediate
control of her fortune.

But will she?

She has promised
to love, honour and obey.

In any case, you are jointly enjoined
in command of her money.

And don't forget, too,
that, if she dies first,

everything is left entirely to you.

In other words, I should be
better off if she were dead.

-Sir Percival!
-We||, that's what you mean, isn't it?

And has it ever struck you
that she might alter her will

in somebody ease's favour
at any time she likes?

-But she's not likely to do that!
-But supposing she hears something?

Something that upsets her.
What then?

You mean there is something?

I only said "supposing".

However, her signature
to this document, and then...

Ssh-ssh!

I'm sorry.
I was looking for Marian.

Come in, my dear.

I was just going to
send for you, as it happens.

-Oh?
-You've met my lawyer, Mr Merriman?

Yes, we introduced ourselves
when he arrived.

With your permission, Sir Percival,

I'll withdraw while you
speak to Lady Glyde.

-As you will. I'll join you in a minute.
-Yes, sir.

Come here, my dear.

Just a little matter of business,

but I want you to sign your name.
Just there, opposite that waiver.

What is it I am to sign?

Oh, it's of minor importance.
A mere formality.

But surely I ought to know
what I'm signing

before I write my name?

Nonsense, my dear.
What do women know about business?

If I explained it,
you wouldn't understand it.

At any rate,
let me try to understand it.

Mr Gilmore, whenever he had
any business for me to do,

always explained it first,
and I always understood him.

I daresay he did.
He was your lawyer.

It was his duty to explain.

But I am your husband.

-Where do you want me to sign?
-There.

If my signature
pledges me to anything,

I feel I have some claim
to know what that pledge is.

You distrust me. Is that it?

It's unjust and cruel
to accuse me of distrusting you.

Aren't I entitled to know
what this writing requires of me

-before I sign it?
-So you do distrust me.

You distrust your own husband.

Upon my soul, this is more
than flesh and blood can stand!

I wish Marian were here
to advise me.

Marian is here.

What is it you want
my advice on, Laura?

-This document I'm signing...
-What document?

A mere formality,
but as essential as the register

that she signed in the church.

But that was open before me.
Why is this all folded up?

Oh, heaven preserve me
from doing business with women!

Are you going to sign that,
or are we going to argue all day?

Laura's objection seems
perfectly reasonable to me.

A cool declaration,
upon my soul.

Before you invite yourself into
a man's house the next time,

let me recommend you
not to abuse his hospitality

by taking sides with
his wife against him,

in a matter which
does not concern you.

Shall I sign?
I will if you say so.

No. The right and the truth
are with you.

Sign nothing,
unless you have read it first.

You positively refuse, then,
to give me your signature?

After what you have
just said to Marian,

I refuse my signature,

until I have read every line
in that parchment

from first to last.
Come on, Marian.

Laura, Laura, you know I would do
anything in the world for you,

but I cannot possibly stay here
after what your husband said to me.

I'm afraid he lost his temper.

A man speaks his mind in temper.

I'll visit you, my dear.

I'll visit you every day of my life,

but I cannot possibly remain
under this roof any longer.

Oh, my poor darling.

Sir Percival! Look!

A letter addressed to Lady Glyde
in Anne Catherick's handwriting.

What?! Are you sure it's
Anne Catherick's handwriting?

-Positive. I've seen it often enough.
-How'd you get it?

Well, walking up the drive just now,
I overtook the postboy

-and took the letters from him.
-My God, if Laura had seen this!

This lunatic girl must be recaptured.

You're quite sure she's
not at her mother's?

Absolutely certain. I'm having
the place watched night and day.

Yet Mrs Catherick admits seeing her
two or three times since her escape.

Yes, only at night
through the window.

By the time Mrs Catherick's got outside,
she's always disappeared completely.

Yes, so she says.

The girl loves her mother, eh?

With an intensity only equalled
by her hatred of you.

Then where the mother is,

the girl won't be far away.

Get a message
to Mrs Catherick.

Tell her to meet me
tonight at nine

in the old boathouse...

by the lake.

(GASPING)

(CHUCKLING)

(CACKLING)

Goodbye, Mrs Catherick!

(CHUCKLING)

And you'd better send me up
a pot of that bear's grease.

-It's nice and soothing.
-Thank you. I'll send it over today.

And I shan't want you again
until next Tuesday week.

Thank you, Sir Percival.

And I wish you good day, sir.

-Good day to you.
-Good day.

-Good day.
-Good day.

Fosco, I didn't hear you knock.

I came in just as you were
speaking about poor Mrs Catherick.

Made away with herself, eh?
And in Blackwater Lake, too.

-You met her there, didn't you?
-She didn't come.

I cooled my heels
for nearly an hour.

Ah, then, you won't have a chance
of seeing her again, eh?

And her secret will die with her.

The devil are you talking about?

Dead women tell no tales,

but, er, was it quite wise?

You sneaking little rat!
What do you mean?

As a doctor and a loyal citizen,

I have but one duty
to perform at the inquest.

As a loyal friend, I have another.

How loyal a friend are you?

How loyal are you?

How loyal do you want me to be?

To the extent of a promissory note
of five thousand pounds,

to be redeemed when you've
robbed your wife of her money.

YQU!

Yes, I'm afraid it must be
five thousand pounds.

That's why I said
I wondered if you were quite wise.

Now, do you agree?

Send me a promissory note
and I'll sign it.

Thank you, Sir Percival.

The price may be high,
but the risk is great.

I wonder if you realise
how great the risk really is.

(CHUCKLING)

See, my Fosco,
there is your woman in white.

A little hunting trick
I learned in Australia.

Kill the mother, and the
whelps will follow the body.

So, this is the cause
of all the trouble, eh?

-(WHIMPERING)
-Our little mad girl!

(CHUCKLING)

Laura!

Lady Glyde? Oh, there is
a remarkable resemblance, certainly.

Particularly when
the face is in repose.

Why didn't you tell me
of this before?

Can't you see the solution
of all our troubles is here?

She's very ill.
Probably pneumonia.

We must get her between
blankets immediately.

You seem very concerned for her.

My instinct as a doctor
is to cure, not to kill.

Let's get her
back to the coach.

FOSCO:
There's only one thing to do,

sweat it out of her.

Wandering about at night
scantily clad.

N-No wonder she's grievously ill.

Ah, I must get this heated up again.

It's essential she be kept
as warm as possible.

There may be a change
for the better in the morning.

(HOWLING WIND)

(GIGGLING)

"There may be a change
for the better in the morning."

(CHUCKLING)

(WIND HOWLING)

(SCREAMING)

No!

(CACKLING)

(LAUGHING)

Come on, none of that.

(MUFFLED SCREAMS)

All right, in!

Now, Anne Catherick,

unless you want to find yourself
in a jacket, you'll calm yourself.

My name is not Anne Catherick!

Oh, please listen to me!
I am Lady Glyde.

Lady Glyde!
Don't you understand?

(DOOR SLAMMING)

"But I deeply regret that
Lady Glyde is most seriously ill."

Was there ever such an
unfortunate man as I am,

that Laura taken ill,
and I am pestered with it!

I always thought that,
when a girl was married,

she was off her guardian's hands.

W-W-What am I expected
to do about it?

Something I would
never expect you to do.

Forget your miserable self
for one moment,

and think of someone else.

Are you aware of
what you're saying

-and to whom you're saying it?
-Yes.

To the man who undertook
to be her guardian,

and betrayed his trust.

Who didn't care whom she married
or what became of her,

so long as he wasn't
inconvenienced.

You fill me with contempt!

You're so much engrossed
in your own imaginary ailments

that you haven't an atom
of pity or consideration

for anyone else.

If anything happens to Laura,

may God punish you
as you deserve!

Louis, my sal volatile!
My sal volatile!

Here! Take the lot!
And my notice with it!

And I hope you never
get the stains out!

(GASPING)

(SPLUTTERING)

Where is Laura?

-In her room.
-How is she?

She's been very feverish
and restless and wandering.

She's quiet now.

Oh yes, she's quiet now.

Then that is a good sign,
surely, isn't it?

It means she's better, doesn't it?

In the sense that she's
nolongersufieflng,

she is better.

Great heavens!

Are you telling me
somethings happened to her?

(CHUCKLING)

(CREAKING)

(GASPING)

(DOOR BEING UNLOCKED)

Oh, please, if you have any
womanly feeling in you, listen to me.

Now, you be quiet
and eat your food.

Please, please believe me
when I tell you

that a ghastly mistake
has been made.

You made the mistake,
Anne Catherick,

when you thought you
could give us the slip.

My name is not Anne Catherick!

I tell you, I'm Lady Glyde!

That's nothing.
The one in there's Anne Boleyn.

But I am Lady Glyde!

Lady Glyde died two days ago.
It's in the papers.

-Morning, Doctor.
-Oh, Dr Fosco,

I am glad you're here.

Have you come to take
me out of this dreadful place?

My dear Anne,
why should I take you away

when I've just
welcomed you back?

But don't you know who I am?

Yes, yes, yes, my dear girl.
Of course I know who you are.

You know I'm Lady Glyde.

She was carrying on like this
before you came, sir.

But it's true! It's true!

Mmm, she's doubtless read
of Lady G|yde's death,

-and the brain's...
-Will you send for my sister?!

Please, please, please
do as I ask and send for her!

(TUTTING) Poor child, poor child,
it's worse than I thought.

Yes, of course
we will send for her.

Watch her carefully.
If she continues like this,

I'll give her a strong sedative.

But then, if she becomes
violent, um...

LAURA:
No! No!

Don't you see you are
making a dreadful mistake?!

Dr Fosco!
Dr Fosco, don't leave me!

Don't leave me!

Well?

-She's safe enough.
-Good.

-Question is, how safe are we?
-What do you mean?

Well, at every step we seem to be
getting deeper and deeper.

She might as well be locked up
for all the good she is.

Of what use is
a shrinking violet to a man?

A brief interview
with her lawyers on Monday,

and I shall be rich, my Fosco.

So, come. I'll stand you
a bottle of wine at the Falcon

-on the strength of it.
-Ah, thank you, but I do not indulge.

And I've already told you,
I don't trust teetotallers.

Well, I was going to say
that I do not indulge

except at this time of day.

Good!
Come, my Fosco, come.

I wish I could find
that woman in white.

If you were to find her, that wouldn't
bring the dead back to life.

No, but it might bring
the living to justice.

I swear by that grave
to expose Glyde to the world

for the blackguardly
scoundrel that he is.

I feel certain that that woman
can point me the way.

What makes you so certain?

The look I saw in G|yde's eyes

when I confronted him
with her note.

-I wonder if...
-If what?

A few days ago, a girl,
said to be a mental case,

who escaped
from Dr F0sc0's asylum,

was recaptured near Blackwater.

You think she might be
the woman in white?

I wondered if there might
be any connection.

I heard one of the servants say

-she was dressed all in white.
-I wonder...

(sesame)

I shall go mad.

I shall go mad!
Why am I here?!

Oh, let me out!

What have I done?
Let me out!

Gentleman to see you, sir.

"Mr Carey Wilson,
Solicitor, Winchester"?

-What's he want?
-Don't know, sir.

You'd better show him in,
I suppose.

This way, sir.

And what service
can I render you, sir?

You have a patient here
named Anne Catherick?

That is so.

I am engaged in
winding up the estate

of her recently deceased mother.

-Won't you sit down?
-Oh, thank you.

I require certain information.

May I see Miss Catherick?

Quite impossible.

My instructions are that
she may have no visitors.

-But it's vitally important.
-I repeat, it's impossible.

You realise, sir,
the girl's insane?

Has she been certified?

-We||, no, not actually.
-Then, in law, she's sane

until she's been certified.

I must insist on seeing her.

For the last time, sir,
I cannot grant your request.

Very well.

In that case, I must apply
for an order from the court.

Oh, my dear sir,

there's no need
to adopt that attitude.

After all, rules must be observed
in these institutions.

And the law must take its course.

Quite.

Well, under the very
special circumstances,

I'll make an exception
in your case.

Take this gentleman
through to number seven.

She's been rather violent, Doctor.

You must not excite her.
You understand?

This way, sir.

(DOOR BEING LOCKED)

Excuse me.

-Paul!
-Laura!

Oh, Paul, I hoped...
I prayed you would come.

Why do you stare at me?
Do I look so different?

I never expected
to find you here.

Well, thank God I did.

Whom did you expect to find?

A girl called Anne Catherick.

Anne Catherick? That's what
they insist on calling me.

-Even Dr Fosco.
-Oh, my darling.

Those two scoundrels
should pay for this.

Oh, please, please,
take me out of this dreadful place.

You'll have to go now.

Very well.

Thank you, Miss Catherick.

I think that clears up everything
quite satisfactorily.

(GROANING)

There you are.
Take that to my bankers and...

But what is this?

A draft in respect to the upkeep
of Anne Catherick for three years.

And the additional hundred
promised to me for her recapture?

But you didn't recapture her.
I did.

Then, there's the
five thousand due to me

for committing perjury
in your interest

at the inquest on Mrs Catherick.

Blackmail, eh?

You know well enough what was
arranged between us.

That's all you're going to get,
you little worm. Take it or leave it.

But you don't get over me
so easily as that.

I know you are not
Sir Percival Glyde.

I know you've
murdered Mrs Catherick

and caused the death
of her daughter,

to say nothing of
the parlourmaid Jessica

and the real Sir Percival Glyde.

I also know that the woman
at present in my asylum

is Laura Fairlie,

and that the body buried
in Limmeridge church yard

is that of Anne Catherick
alias Glyde.

But you've no proof of all this.

It's only your word against mine.

Besides, the story is so fantastic,
who would believe it?

MARIAN: I, for one,
believe every word of it!

Oh, eavesdropping, eh?
What have you heard?

Enough to hang you
for the murderer that you are.

He's got no proof.

Oh, you want proof, do you?

Well, I know where
I can find proof.

In the records
of the parish church.

What records?

If you were Sir Percival Glyde,
you would not ask.

For it was there
that Percival Glyde,

before he set out for Australia,

married the woman that
you knew as Mrs Catherick.

-What?!
-MARIAN: Then, who is he?

FOSCO:
An impostor!

A murderer! A thief!
A liar and a bigamist!

And the records of the parish church
shall prove it to the world!

(CACKLING)

Oh, no, you don't!

(GASPING)

Wenches like you want taming badly!

Properly taming!

Let me go, you horrible beast!
Let me go!

(MARIAN SCREAMING)

Let me go! Stop m
Let me go!

(CACKLING)

Oho! You little she-devil!

(CHORTLING)

(SCREAMING)

Out in Australia, I used to
break in fractious horses.

Now, I'm going to break in
a fractious mare.

(SCREAMING)

-(BELL JANGLING)
-(BANGING)

Where's Miss Marian?

(SCREAMING)

It's locked. Open that door!

-LAY RA: Quick!
-Open the door!

LAURA:
Oh, quick! Marian!

You stand back.

-Laura!
-Marian!

-(GUNSHOT)
-(SCREAM|NG)

(CACKLING)

LAURA:
Paul!

He shot me
with a horse pistol.

He escaped through the window.

Now, where are we?

1833...

No, it was a year or two
before that...

Ah, here we are!

I think the unhappy Miss Fairlie

will be only too glad
to pay me handsomely for this,

and that criminal lunatic
will pay his just desert.

A hangman's rope.

I don't think you
expected me, my Fosco.

I...

didn't mean...

You treacherous little snake!

Oh, I've been longing
to sink my fingers

in your fat, greasy little throat!

No! No! No, not that!
Not that!

Then that, eh?!

(CHUCKLING)

(CHORTLING)

What was it he said?

"A hangman's rope."

Then, the hangman's rope
it shall be!

(CHUCKLING)

You always said
you were a teetotaller.

You're going to have
a nice drop now!

(BELL RINGING)

-What's that?
-The church bell. The parish records!

Ride to the church, quickly!

(BELL CONTINUES RINGING)

-PAUL: Open the door!
-LAURA: It's locked!

I'll destroy the records
and beat them yet!

(CACKLING)

(CHORTLING)

(ALL SHOUTING AT ONCE)

-MAR|AN: Oh, he mustn't get away!
-PAUL: Open that door!

Look, it's on fire!

The hounds are after me!
I'm not taken yet!

Out this way!

Well...

I'll go down to the church
and hide.

Oh, curse the keys!

Oh, no!
I'll never go down that way.

Hello, there!
Open the door!

Break it down, do you hear?

The flames are getting me!
Break it down!

For God's sake,
break it down!

I'll confess everything!
I'm not Sir Percival Glyde!

Hurry!
Break down the door!

I must have it! No!

I can't get it off!
I can't stand it!

I don't want to die!
I don't want to die!

(SCREAMING)

MARIAN:
And so shall perish all evil.

(GROANING)

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