All language subtitles for The Wild Wild West - 03x02 - The Night of the Firebrand.Unspecified.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

Good boy.

Major Jason?

Yes.

James West, sir.

You, uh,
were expecting me?

Was I?

The president sent a letter
saying I was coming.

Oh, had he?

Well, what with
the Iroquois-

they're getting a little
out of hand lately-

the mail service is
a little less than perfect.

Ah, Crocker!
You blasted butcher!

The letter was in reference

to your report
on Sean O'Reilley.

Well, yes, of course.

Troublesome Mr. O'Reilley

seems bound and determined

to start a nice, explosive
revolution in Canada.

Go on.

The letter raises
the point that-

I'm taking the devil's
own time

about collaring
this Mr. O'Reilley.

That's the sense
of it, yes.

Well, than, How can I be
expected to collar him

when I don't even know
what he looks like?

Never a description
of the lad to go by.

There is an official
description of him.

"He's 6'1" or 6'2",

a couple hundred pounds,

green-eyed,

mustache,

and he has a scar

on his left cheek.

Well, now,

how did you tumble to
my little charade, Mr. West?

Thought I was doing
a masterful job

being a complete,
hard-bitten

company commander.

Well, when you addressed

your orderly as "Crocker."

Why? That's his name.

A major, a West Pointer,

would have called him
"corporal."

Well, uh...

...remind me of that
next time.

What else did I do wrong?

No ring.

Whatever a West Pointer
takes off,

he never takes off his ring.

Come on, O'Reilley.

We got a long,

hard ride in front of us.

You too, corporal.

Corporal Crocker,

come on, get in there, lad!

Very adroit, Mr. West.

Now, you'll never
get past that gate

because Major Jason himself

and his entire garrison

are prisoners
in their own stockade.

You see,

my men control this fort.

Well, we'll let the major
and his boys out.

That will improve my odds.

And now, for my
next performance.

Mr. West, meet
Miss O'Shaugnessy.

Miss O'Shaugnessy.

Move.

My sincere appreciation

for the use of your uniform.

I'm sorry to have
inconvenienced you,

Major Jason.

All right, lads, let's get
out of those uniforms.

Hurry it up now.

Pierre, can we move out?

This one is ready.

All right, lad.
Take it out of here!

Well, your horse
got away, Mr. West.

But you and
the others remain.

You'll be joining
them shortly.

Not in this world, of course,

because unfortunately,

the dynamite will undoubtedly

obliterate
every last one of you.

Any particular reason

for the mass executions?

Two.

To begin with,

we cannot possibly carry away

all of the fort's dynamite.

So why not use the surplus
to good advantage, hmm?

Now, that's one good reason.

And the other?

Oh, yes,
the number-two reason.

Obviously, when the Iroquois
hear the explosion,

they'll send their scouts
to investigate.

They'll loot and pillage,
naturally,

and leave behind
more than enough evidence

to receive full blame
for the massacre.

You're concerned
about the blame?

Well, it does
sound funny, doesn't it?

But you see, after I have
established myself

as leader to the North,

I'll be dealing
with your President Grant

as a statesman,

as an equal,

and that might be difficult

if my real involvement
were known.

That's an excellent plan.

Congratulations.

Oh, no, no, no.

Give credit where credit is due.

Vixen!

Come, lass. I'd like to
introduce you properly.

You remember
Mr. West.

Allow me to present

Sheila
O'Shaugnessy,

recently searching

for the light
of knowledge.

Miss Primwick's
finishing school.

Presently a student
to the world.

Um, Vixen, love,

Mr. West here
is what you might call

a sort of a leading light

of the Secret Service.

Senator O'Shaugnessy's
daughter?

The same.

Well, you've got Washington
in an uproar

and your father's
under the impression

that you were kidnapped.

How dull.

Daddy never did have
much of an imagination.

An affliction from which

his daughter
does not suffer.

It was Vixen here
who reasoned out

this ingenious use
of the dynamite.

What's life
without a woman's touch?

What's death

without a woman's touch?

The wagons are loaded,
monsieur.

We are ready to leave.

All right,
have the men mount up.

Well,

Mr. West,
I must bid you goodbye,

before the Iroquois
make a feast of us all.

Goodbye, Mr. West.

O'Reilley certainly
should have hear that.

How did he
take over the fort?

When the Iroquois
started to raise Cain,

half his men
infiltrated the fort

disguised as
refugee settlers.

And yesterday when most
of my men were out on patrol,

they made their move.

My men didn't have
a chance.

Major, I didn't know you had
women and children here.

Better evacuate them
right away.

With what? O'Reilley took
every horse we had.

No, not every horse.

Whoa.

Thattaboy.

When do you think
the Indians will strike?

Well, the Blackfeet

will hold their big palaver
with the Iroquois

at Jefferson Hill
in 48 hours.

Soldier.

They'll unite and move
this way at that time.

That gives me 48 hours

to get those ammunition wagons

back to this fort, doesn't it?

Any idea which direction
O'Reilley will head?

I'm positive north,

probably to meet
a man named Andre Durain.

Durain?

Well, he's in British Columbia.

That's right, major.

I hope to see you in 48 hours.

Close the gates.

Tex!

You and Pinto ride back
and check on Fort Savage.

After that explosion?

Get going!

You are troubled, milord?

My mind is troubled
like a fountain stirred,

and I myself
see not the bottom of it.

Troilus and Cressida.

Yes.

That may apply very aptly

to that so-called
explosion back there.

So-called?

But we all heard it.

Yes, well, we all
heard something,

but was it that rich,

full-bodied disturbance

six kegs
of dynamite makes?

I think not.

Perhaps it was-

Perhaps it was what,
my love?

A gust of wind
may have carried

the full force
of the blast

away from us.

Ah, yes, of course,
macushla.

You're probably right.

Or was it perhaps,

some hocus-pocus

arranged by a very
resourceful gentleman

to make it sound that way?

Give me a drink.

I said give me a drink!

I'm bored.

Bored! That's what I am!

You hear me?

This child is bored

right down from

the topknot
to his big toes,

and I've got
this here now hankering

to shake things up
a mite.

I've seen the elephant,

and I've heard the owl.

I have been every place
that was out of bounds,

and done everything
that was illegal!

Before I was out
of my swaddling clothes,

I killed me
every form of critter

that walks, flies,

crawls, or bites.

He's right back
where he started from.

Bored!

All the way from his topknot

down to his big toes.

Everybody out, vite!

Hey,

you are a very
mean fellow.

What is your name?

Along with
being bored,

I got me a distinct
aversion

to pushy-type
neighbors

who try to strike up
a friendship.

I can offer you
something

better than
friendship;

participation
in a project

that is guaranteed

to relieve
your boredom.

Well, this child
is listening.

Although I must say,
you've got the look

of a natural-born
exaggerator.

How's the rest
of your tall tale go?

How would you like to help
me and my associates

take over Canada?

Lock, stock, treasury...

...and every barrel and bottle

we can lay our hands upon, huh?

Well, I might just find
a flicker of interest

in that kind of a project.

My name is Durain.

Name's Bluebeard.

Hey...

You the number-one man
in the deal?

Yes, are you
interested?

This child might be,

if it was
distinctly understood

that he's the number-two
man of the deal.

Oh, Briscoe here,

he occupies
that position.

Unfortunate, isn't it?

Yeah, that could be...

...for the old number-two man.

To our little project...

...and to our
new associate.

Well, they ought
to reach the fort

in a few hours.

Now, you boys can do

one of two things.

You can yell for help,

and that might
attract the attention

of a few Indians.

Or you can
work on those ropes,

and in about
four or five hours,

you might be free.

Then I suggest

you leave
the territory...

...for good.

Good luck, boys.

You know,

one thing my pappy learned me

with a swamp willow switch

when I was just a tad.

Never turn my back

on a one-eyed rattler

unless I was sure

I'd taken the poison

out of his fangs first.

And I'm giving that

one-eyed rattler in back of me

exactly three to put down

his empty gun.

That's one.

Two.

Durain around?

Who are you?

Clint Hoxie.

O'Reilley sent me.

Oh, I've been expecting you.

Let's go fetch
our friend here a drink.

Sit down.

Well, how do you progress?

Well, for openers,

we knocked off
Fort Savage.

What about the weapons?

Coming out
of our ears.

We've got two wagonloads
full of rifles

and enough ammunition
to keep them company.

Splendid!

And the fort personnel?

Everything going
according to plan.

Where is O'Reilley now?

Bedding down
in French Meadows.

Good.

You've ridden hard.

A day and a half's worth.

You'll find beds upstairs.

I suggest you take a rest
before you return.

Briscoe,

I want you to go
to O'Reilley

immediately
with a message.

Where is
French Meadows?

French Meadows

is just beyond three forks.

It should be this area-

Don't get yourself
all tired out

hunting for the place,
rattler.

Excuse me for pointing,
number-one man,

but that's
French Meadows

right there.

As I was saying,

I want you to ride
to O'Reilley.

Tell him I will meet him
at Beaver Creek

with 2000 men.

Day after tomorrow.

All right, come on, lad,

on your feet.

Keep your eyes sharp.

Mr. West,

is there no end
to your persistence?

Well...

...not if you're a man

of Homeric destiny.

Well, I do hope
this is the last time

I'll have to live
through your destruction.

I find it very unnerving.

O'Reilley-

Your presence has made
a difficult task

even more difficult.

I'm either going
to have to kill you-

which I could never do-

or take you with me.

You want to go with me?
I'm flattered.

To make the journey
more pleasant,

I'm just going to apply

a little pressure right here

which will cause
a beautiful sleep.

I shall return, my sweet.

Hah!

All right, boys,
get to your horses!

Come on!

Let's get a move on!

I had such a lovely dream.

Tell me all about it.

Well, I dreamed
that you and I-

You?

You and your
pressure points!

Wait 'till O'Reilley
gets through with you!

You're always throwing
O'Reilley up at me.

What uncommon
mood of fate

ever brought you two
together anyway?

A common goal,
Mr. West!

And that being?

To remove
the stamp of tyranny

from the brow of the masses.

Oh, your heart bleeds
for the downtrodden?

Yes!
And the sufferers?

Yes!

Like the men, women,
and children at Fort Savage?

The Indians are experts

at creating suffering.

You're a fraud, Vixen.

Beautiful,

but you're a fraud.

Mr. West,

I suggest you
throw down your weapon.

O'Reilley,

I suggest
you back up.

One shot and this wagon
will go sky-high.

You're bluffing, Mr. West.

Your precious fort
needs that wagon.

You won't
destroy it.

O'Reilley, you're bluffing.

You wouldn't jeopardize
Miss O'Shaugnessy.

Take him.

Your lord seems

easily willing

to have you
blown up, my love.

Because you give him
no choice, West.

Go ahead. Pull the trigger.

But I'll die hating you,
not him.

Oh, come now.

Can't you dislike him
just a little?

His ideals are more important

than mere mortal flesh.

Mr. West,

I am unimpressed
with this charade.

Yes,

it grows more
tiresome by the moment.

And who are you?

I am Jacques Beaumont,

personal emissary
from Durain.

Your Clint Hoxie

brought us the good news
about Fort Savage.

Glad to have you
with us, Beaumont.

Thank you, monsieur.

And you, monsieur!

You are a coward
and a blackguard!

You are hopelessly outnumbered,

and yet you persist
in exposing

this lovely, young lady

to danger.

Show some fortitude,
monsieur!

Throw away your gun

and face this
like a gentleman.

There.

Now doesn't that

make you feel
much better, huh?

Well, since you put it
that way, yes.

Would you like
a blindfold, Mr. West?

A blindfold?

Well, It's customary
at executions.

Execution?

Has fortitude
no reward, O'Reilley?

Alas, the right time,

the right place.

If you will permit me,
Monsieur O'Reilley,

but this is neither
the right time

nor the right place
for an execution.

And what brings you
to that conclusion, Beaumont?

Durain was most
concerned

that once the coup
had been achieved,

President Grant
would be unwilling

to recognize
our new republic.

And what has that
to do with Mr. West?

Well, it occurs to me

that if Mr. West's body

could be found at the scene
of our first big battle,

why then it could be made
to appear that President Grant

was secretly abetting
our cause, huh?

Would this not serve

to thoroughly
antagonize

Queen Victoria?

And if that antagonism

were to break
into open conflict?

Exactly.

Perhaps you have
a point, Beaumont.

Tie Mr. West up.
We'll take him along.

And how long
have you been

with Durain,
Monsieur Beaumont?

Oh, not very long.

But then,
a love of justice

always forges
the bonds of friendship

very quickly, does it not,

Monsieur O'Reilley?

Well spoken.

Thank you.

Well,

if you would excuse me,

there is much
I can do, huh?

Yes, well, we should
be leaving soon.

We've got a long day's
ride ahead of us.

Fine.

To the cause.

Mademoiselle.

Well, now, have we decided
to drink our breakfast

this morning, my love?

Milord,

would you really
have forced Mr. West

to blow up the wagon
last night,

even if it had
blown me up too?

Oh, James,
James, James.

You're always
hanging around.

It's an occupational
hazard.

Lately, I seem to get
tied up in my work.

You really should try

to get away from it all.

How were things
at the fort?

If we don't get
this wagon out of here,

there won't be a fort.

Why, you-

Break, 10 minutes.

Well, now, what have we here,
Monsieur Beaumont?

I caught him looking
at the young lady

in something less
than a gentlemanly fashion.

Fie, fie on thee,
Mr. West.

I'm almost tempted myself,

but, really, I find it
much too difficult

working up
all that indignation.

I've been thinking-

About your sins?

Would you have really
blown us up?

What do you think?

If I knew,
I wouldn't be asking.

I mean, we could have
been killed together.

I know it's probably
silly and feminine of me

to really let it matter,
but still...

My answer is on my lips.

Wait a minute!

How did you-?

We're back
to pressure points.

N-

Hey, sir!

Could you tell me
what kind of

formidable
spider that is?

Uh, your friend

seems to have fainted.

Tell me, does he have
these fits often?

Hyah!

Get on your horses!

Hyah! Hyah!

Artie, I've had
some experience

in situations like this,

and I've come
to the conclusion

that they always
catch up with us

when we're in
a heavily loaded wagon.

Yeah, well,
has your experience

given you a solution

to this ageless problem,
Mr. West?

Well, yes it has.

Well, what's that?

If one of us were to
stay back, heroically,

with a few sticks
of dynamite,

the other might just
make it to the fort.

That's an admirable
suggestion.

You! You!

There you are, Artie.

Thank you.

Hope to see you
at the fort, Artie.

Yeah...

...maybe.

Hey!

Hyah!

All right, lads, move out.

Fire!

Come on!

Glad you could make it.

Thanks.

It would have been pretty rough
with just these things.

Hold your fire!

She walks in beauty

like the night
of cloudless climes,

and starry skies,

and all that's best

of dark and bright

meet in her aspects

and her eyes.

What's that?

Lord Byron.

Why are you
reading to me?

Because you'll be
studying it yourself

in a few days.

Why?

Why? Because that's
your punishment.

Somehow, some way
we're going to get you

back into
the feminine fold,

and you're going to leave
the fighting to us.

What's that
supposed to mean?

That means you're
going back

to Miss Primwick's
finishing school.

As a matter of fact,
you'll be studying

this in class
in two days.

Back to finishing school?

I can't go back!

Why, I've just
tasted life!

I've seen the poor
and the downtrodden.

What about all those people
who need my help?

There are still causes

that need fighters who
aren't afraid

to come to their aid
no matter what-

Do you think we ought
to tell Miss Primwick

where her pressure point is?

Oh, yes, definitely.

Definitely.