Original subtitles

Charles Atkins of Bristol, chimney sweep, poaching, transported to

Australia for seven years.

John Davis of Dorchester, age 12, butcher's boy, stole leg of mutton from

employer, seven years.

Seven years, time for a boy to grow old.

Nathaniel Morgan of London.

architect, crime counterfeiting, 14 years.

Bart Dyson of London, groom, assault with intent to murder, death,

commuted to 20 years.

20 years, whoops and pains, damn these bloody iron

chains.

Nobby Thompson of Liverpool, peddler, picked pockets from spectators at

execution, 14 years.

Here I sit, my feet in stocks, nothing ahead but a break

in rocks.

Hetty Green of Halifax, seamstress, stole potatoes from dwelling house,

7 years.

So damn...

Margaret Graves, Manchester, prostitute, theft of gentleman's wallet,

seven years.

She lay with a man and stole his purse. She's a thief and a whore, which one

is worse?

James Williams of London, shoemaker, petty larceny, seven years, assigned

as stableman, returned to prison for habitual drunkenness.

John Graham of Dublin, Ireland, transported to the penal colony in

Australia for inciting rebellion.

Assault with intent to murder during escape attempt, sentenced to death by

hanging.

Adam Beecher, convicted in Liverpool.

Trade unknown.

Crime, felonious assault.

Seven years.

For attempted escape, 200 lashes.

Don't you know there's no escape from our little bit of heaven?

Here, drink this and you'll know you're still alive.

Now, here's the elixir.

If you burn your belly so bad, you'll forget all about your back.

Want some more, eh?

Now, you took your lashing like a man.

Are you going to cringe now before a wee bit of home brew?

Pure Irish poaching blended with Tasmanian rum.

And a sprinkle of holy water to keep the leprechauns from whispering any more

damn foolishness in your ear about escape.

Don't try it again.

Keep it moving.

Keep it low there.

Keep it low.

Close, Dyson. Look alive.

Geez, quick!

What's a pretty girl like you doing here?

In a bed of spinach.

Running away from a sheep, ma'am.

She's a whore.

No common whore, you filthy lag.

I work for the Duchess.

The Duchess?

Madam of the rocks herself.

Now that's the place we want to go if we want to be Shanghai'd.

Ah, the Duchess, eh?

How much can you pay?

Oh, you set the price, sir. His daddy owns half of Boston.

Who asked you?

Nobody.

You haven't a crooked farthing between you.

But an honest face and a pure heart.

What more could you want?

Money.

And you'd be worth every penny.

What is your name, Yank? Adam Beecher.

Son of a Boston banker.

Your Grace.

You are almost as good a liar as I am. I wouldn't believe it either, but it's a

bloody truth. And I suppose once you get home, you'll ship me a handsome sum

through my Yankee captain.

How nice.

It's up to you, Your Grace.

Help me or hang me.

Wait here.

I say we clear out of here before she sells us for the reward money.

The captain of the Clipper's downstairs in his cups. The mate's coming to fetch

him. They'll weigh anchor at midnight.

I'll slip you on board just before she sails, so you haven't much time.

You, out.

Come on, you handsome fella.

Not so rough, you cheeky lad.

Pleasure.

Be careful with the buttons, darling.

They're real velvet.

Where else would I find my bloody yanker?

Robbie's dead.

Get out!

A man was killed as a result of your escape attempt.

You are thus as guilty as your accomplice.

Therefore, it is the judgment... Sir, may I address the court before you pass

sentence?

Even a convicted murderer has that right to speak, sir.

I'm no murderer, sir. I'm an innocent man.

I was in England on business for my father when I was waylaid by robbers.

The next morning, I awoke in jail to find myself accused of a crime I knew

nothing about.

In the blink of an eye, I was on a convict ship bound for Australia.

I tried to tell them here, sir, when I landed, but no one would listen to me.

Sir, the American Council can verify that I... There is no American Council.

Then I asked to see the governor.

Adam Beecher?

The sentence of this court is that you be hanged by the neck until you are

dead.

And may the Lord have mercy on your soul.

Dammit, I'm innocent!

Next case.

You're asked to see this, sir.

Two execution orders, sir, and an urgent request for more troopers at Parramatta.

Zilk me on with this infernal contraption, Alex.

But, sir, you have a dozen appointments that they're lining up outside.

Did you not see all those people outside, Sergeant?

A matter of life or death, sir.

Sergeant... O'Shea, sir. Served under you in India, sir.

General, are you all right, sir?

I see.

Every time you try and straighten up, the bloody thing bites into your neck.

General,

sir, could I have a word with you? They had the poor devils working on the roads

like this.

No wonder one of them died of slow strangulation.

Sir, a man is about to die of strangulation, but it'll not be slow.

Alex, I want an order relieving Major Byrd of his command at Moreton Bay.

It's on your desk, sir.

I anticipated your decision, sir.

He's an American citizen, sir.

General,

sir, will you listen to me? An innocent man has been condemned to death.

Who says he's innocent?

I do, sir.

Who sentenced him?

Chief Magistrate Barrett.

Barrett?

The lad's to be hanged at noon, sir.

I see.

On your feet!

Stand to, Yank. You're in the presence of the governor.

A Burmese prince gave this to me some years ago.

Said if I rubbed the little fellow's belly, it'd help me make wise decisions.

But when I read him your testimony, Beecher, not a word out of him.

His belly just rumbled.

I'm going to find out about you if it takes me months to get a proper report

back from our embassy in the United States.

Meanwhile, I've commuted your sentence to 20 years.

20 years?

I'd damn well rather hang to spend one more hour in this bloody dungeon that

you call Australia.

So you've commuted the sentence I gave him.

years to 20 years.

didn't your informants tell you that too?

with one stroke of your pen governor you've undermined the authority of every

magistrate in this colony.

no Barrett what I've done is simply to cover my yardarm against any possibility

of diplomatic action.

if that American boy goes to the gallows and his story turns out to be true heads

will roll and mine will be first into the basket. that's not why you spared

him and you know it.

you're more interested in your miserable convicts than you are in the men who

built this country the landowners.

What would this country be without us? We've made it what it is, with our toil,

our sweat, with our capital, our enterprise.

And above all, with your cheap convict labour.

I don't deny it.

It's made Australia.

Made it what, sir?

A dumping ground for England's misery? A stinking jail?

When I first came out here as governor, I had high hopes that I could work with

you and all the other big landowners.

I thought I could persuade you it might be in your own interest to help me with

the changes I wanted to make. Yes, Barrett.

I actually thought that you would help me. Help you?

A man who wants to give away my grazing lands to ex-convicts?

There's even a rumour that you intend to mate prison whores with murderers and

set them free to colonise the bush country.

That's not a rumour, Barrett. That's an ideal.

You don't deny it?

I'm damned sure London doesn't know what you're up to behind their backs.

well you've gone too far this time sir Philip. you've insulted me personally by

overruling my sentence.

I'm sending a letter to Lord Brent with a full list of your radical ideas.

please do that sir.

and believe me mine won't be the only signature on that letter.

Bloody Yank.

Will you look at him?

Big as life.

Thought you'd be in hell by now.

Wish I was.

2-11-7. Beat ya.

Cheated the bloody Yankman, did ya?

Jezebel!

Fornicator!

Just my joke, the orly man.

Giving him his blessing with a Bible and a few rocks.

Right from the female factory.

So he figures she must be a whore.

Somehow the elk coot always finds out when there's a convict lass getting

married. Convict?

They offer a ground of land to any ex-convict who marries a female

prisoner. All right, that's enough. Back to work.

I'd like to see the governor.

You'll see hell first.

Striking a courtroom, fermenting unrest among the convicts, starting a work

stoppage, leading a food riot.

All to get yourself sent here to me.

What am I supposed to do?

Applaud your cleverness or ship you back to the flogging post?

Why don't you just set me free, sir? Can you think of a better way to get rid of

me? Don't be insolent, Beecher. No, I'm serious, sir.

I'll take a chance on a prison bride.

Diary grants are for ex-convicts, not for serving prisoners.

Excuse me, sir, but I heard there was word for another scheme.

For the rehabilitation of convicts.

And you'll get more work out of serving our time that way, sir, than with bloody

whips and chains.

And I have lived in New England for a while on a farm. I know how to work the

land, sir. Beecher, you'd be the very last one I'd pick.

Sir, you're thinking that I'd like to do a bolt.

And you could be right, but... Sir, I know I wouldn't have a chance.

And just between you and me and the sergeant here, sir, if I did happen to

escape, would you really miss me that much?

Sergeant, get him out of here.

May I remind the governor that I also work as a carpenter, sir.

That boy troops in here with the very same harebrained scheme I've already

proposed to London.

Alex, it's a sign.

Sir, not... I know, I know.

Barely into his britches.

Probably make a botch of it and end up back on the gallows.

Oh, how our chief magistrate and his cronies would roar if we did pick him as

our first convict bridegroom. All he wants is to tweak your nose and sail off

into the sun. Well, of course, of course.

But who could tell what could happen to a clever young rascal if we set him down

in the bush with a girl and a piece of earth?

You can't be serious.

Why not?

This land is doomed unless we give our convicts a stake in it.

Some reason to hope.

A challenge.

A sense of pride.

As a ticket-of-leave man, Alex, you should know that better than I do.

Aye, sir.

Besides...

I think that boy deserves one of our charming ladies from the female factory.

Oh, your honor.

I'm so glad you got my message, sir.

I have just what you've been looking for.

Which one?

The middle tub.

Sweetest you on your grass, sir.

Just came in on the last convict ship.

I was certain you'd like her.

Make a fine kitchen maid.

Not like that last one. I was so sorry about that Maguire, sir. I prefer not to

be reminded of that bitch.

I'll take her.

Oh, you won't be sorry, sir.

I wanted you to have your choice before they're picked over by the convicts.

You didn't know, sir?

The governor is about to offer the dowry grant to lags.

There's one coming tomorrow for a bride.

The matron will try to palm off one of our troublemakers on you, so look close.

A shilling you don't pick any.

Lucky day for you, lad.

Choice of my best girls you have.

All good workers, sound of wind and limb, no lice or fever, and gone off

reaching everyone by the doctor.

Primed and ready for the marriage bed.

See one that strikes your fancy.

Well, don't be shy, Yank. Take your pick.

Maybe the gentleman'd like to have a closer look at one of our ladies.

Hetty!

Hello, dearie.

I'm Eddie Green.

I'll treat you right.

You see I will.

I'm a good girl.

One of the best, Hattie.

Please.

Please, mister, take me with you.

I love you, swear I will.

I can't bear it here one more day. Please.

Take her away.

Agnes.

I said Agnes. Get out of it.

Don't you dare, please.

Ah, no.

Here's a prize.

Our Agnes.

Say hello, dear.

Well, smile at the gentleman so he can see how pretty we are.

Agnes, I wish I could... Oh, no worry about the little one. We'll take care of

that here at the factory.

I'll see she gets over her weeps soon enough.

Me name's Maggie Grave, sir, from a good Christian home.

Me father's a sexton, married to me mother.

And if it's God's will, you should choose me, sir.

I serve you faithfully as I serve him.

Thank you, Maggie.

Is that all you've got to say?

I'll take you right up to heaven every bleeding night, I will.

Go rot in hell, you Yankee bastard!

Anne!

Rest your papers on me, love.

And you can see you're picking yourself a good kook.

Feed her like a fighting cock, fat I will.

Just one of our shy ones.

She may seem a bit skittish, but... Wild Irish.

Seven years for thieving.

It was only two loaves of bread she stole.

Admit she had a bit of trouble when we assigned her as a housemaid. But shaving

her head soon cured that.

Half killed her employer with a meat axe.

All she needs is a proper man to calm her down.

And you might be just the one, lad.

We'll have her out here for you in just a... Down,

struggle, come on, Christian, through there.

Take her back.

How would you like to crawl into the hay with the likes of that every night, eh?

Well, Yank, which of the little beauties are you going to have your two minutes

with?

Two minutes to make up your mind.

Hello.

I've come to pick a wife.

You'll do.

Did you hear me?

I said... Irish bitch!

Any trouble in there? No, just have a little chat, Matron. Get out! Oh, shut

up! No, I'm not gonna touch you.

That's not why I want a wife.

You'll be my passport out of this bloody land.

First chance I get, I'll escape.

All that land.

It'll be yours when I'm gone.

Time's up!

Can it be any worse than this hell?

She's agreed.

Will thou convict Beecher have this woman for thy wedded wife?

I do. Will thou convict McGuire have this man for thy wedded husband?

She does.

The woman can answer for herself.

Do you want him or not?

Don't yell at her.

What was that?

She's very nervous. Don't make it worse by yelling at her.

I've a mind to return the pair of you to prison. May I remind the reverend that

the governor intends this couple to pioneer his colonization plan.

I don't care what the governor intends. I will not be lectured by a convict. All

I ask you is you show a little respect for a lady who is... A lady?

Get them out of here. I will.

Will what?

I will have him for me husband, sir.

I declare you married.

Next.

Next. This way.

Your dowry grant, Mr. Beecher?

The sergeant will locate the tract for you.

You owe me a shilling.

Meet our guardian angel.

Matron, there must be some poor woman in the factory who'll take this shilling

for a kerchief to cover her head.

Thank you, Matron.

That's my wedding present.

We'd best get going, Yank.

Luck go with you, lad.

Tell the governor we're grateful.

Ha! Come on!

We'll ride where the mountains tower high and climb to anywhere to touch the

sky. Down on the far side, you and I will make a home in the bushland.

Come ride with me to the bush.

We'll cross where the river's shallow spill And ride all day in the sun until

We find a place on the side of a hill And spend our days in the bushland Come

ride with me to the bush Whoa!

Well, there it is.

I never saw so much land and sky.

Does it have a name?

A name?

Where are you from, Irish?

Nowhere. They put down our village when we couldn't pay the rents. Must have

been called something once upon a time.

Kilmoran, County Clare.

I christen this valley Kilmoran.

Did you ever think you'd see that bald-headed wildcat down on her knees in

prayer?

Mother Downes will make fine meadow for the sheep.

And wheat and corn and spuds, they can go and be on the rise.

And those trees.

And a bar cot right there beside the river.

And... Is here all right with you?

Doesn't matter.

You're the men.

You decide.

Before I forget, here's something to brighten your wedding night.

What is it?

Now, I need you to ask, and you an Irish lass.

Oh, your husband is well acquainted with his magical powers.

It cures everything from a skint knee to a broken heart.

Smile at it, and it smiles back.

Feel lonely, and it'll sing to you.

O'Shea's elixir of love and marriage.

Now, one damn gun in the supplies.

Will you not interrupt me when I'm charming your wife? Now, how's a man to

hunt game and protect himself? Oh, it's for the general to be passing out

firearms to convicts.

Sure you've got a fish and pole and a snare.

And as for protection, I'm already on my way to set up a guard post the other

side of the hill.

There's bushrangers being waylaid in wagons.

We have to keep an eye out.

For bushrangers or me?

Oh, I expect we'll be dropping in on you once in a great while.

Just to make sure you haven't perished of.

Easy living.

Still my bloody jailer, huh?

Good day to you both.

Oh, and a good life.

Well, that tent won't put itself up.

Somebody plucked our little chicken clean, eh?

Got your tail feathers too, dearie.

Dyson!

Tail high in the windowsill of a whorehouse. That's how I'll always

remember you.

You flew off so fast, you missed all the fun.

Well, well, well.

Hey, I, uh, I hated to leave you, Yank, but you seemed to be doing so good on

your own, and I did have a pressing appointment elsewhere, remember?

Oh, every man for himself. It's the only way to live, mate.

Yeah, and you'd understand, Alan.

Hey, boys, meet the Yank.

If it hadn't been for his self-sacrifice, old Bart would still be

breaking rocks for Her Majesty the Queen, God bless her.

Hey, put those guns away. He's one of us.

What are you doing here?

Well, I heard the governor was going to settle a couple of legs down here, so I

thought we'd ride over and pay our compliments.

But I didn't know I was going to find you here, Adam.

And married.

To a female factory wench.

Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Beecher.

Well, she ain't the Duchess, mate, but I guess you'll do on a dark night.

Can I help you with something?

What do you want?

You ain't got nothing worth taking, Yank.

So I may as well take you.

That's very funny. Yeah.

I saw the sergeant riding out of here.

So why don't you come with us? What's the matter with you? Well, I'd like to,

mate, but...

I'm a husband now.

That's true.

I got a wife to bed down tonight.

You're a husband.

He says he's a husband.

Well, you grow a little hair on her and fatten her up a bit and I might come

back and give you a hand.

Husband. Hey, give me the buns.

Mrs. Beecher.

For your wedding breakfast.

A present from your old mate, Bart Dyson.

Your new landlord.

You build a fire.

I'll skin them.

Well, you're not coming in here.

You come near me and I'll murder you.

What are you doing?

What's it look like I'm doing?

Well, you can't. Now get out.

I'm soaked, Emma. Turn your back.

No man tells me what to do in my own bed.

You want to drown?

If I wanted you Irish, I'd take you if you had three bald heads and a tattoo on

your tail.

Put your scarf back on and go to sleep.

Why don't you try a prayer to the Virgin?

About time you got back.

Where's the horse?

Oh, I don't know. He must have heard about all that work that you had in mind

for him. Some horses are like that, you know.

Look, are you going to do your share or not?

I'll then to hell with you!

What day?

Isn't it a glorious day, Mrs. Beecher? I want to go back.

Back? To prison.

I'll throw me things in the carpet bag and we're off. Why, what did he do to

you? Do?

That's what he didn't do.

All he wants to do is to lie under a tree and twiddle his toes.

Oh, I see.

Well, maybe if you gave him another chance.

I'm not about to bow and scrape before a lazy rich man's son.

It's work or starve in this world.

And since his highness won't work, I'm not about to stay and starve with him.

Because I know what it's like.

I'd rather be in prison.

Listen.

If she goes back, you go back with her. By order of the general himself.

Go on, load up. I'll have you back by nightfall. No, you tell her I'll do

anything she wants.

Go ahead, she'll listen to you. What if I don't want her to listen to me?

Uh...

What's the governor gonna think of you if you bring us back after one night his

precious colonization scheme

Oh

Sergeant, I'm sorry.

It wasn't meant for you It's just his britches wet in the rain last night and

he took them off to dry them

Now, now, that's me things.

Now, is it all right if I ride double with you?

Yang says he'll work for you. Do whatever you want. Will he now, the

liar? He'll have to go back to his chains, too.

Alas, a good owner needs to the holy family over a piece of wild land.

Just isn't the sort to give up without a fight.

Even if she is saddled with Satan himself.

Give it another go.

Sure, what can you lose?

You'll do anything I say?

so so

I'm not trying to rape you!

Your head!

You're bleeding!

Sit

down.

What the devil is that? O'Shea's elixir.

If you could see your face.

Our sun and wind will do the healing.

Your horse is thirsty, ma'am.

We've half a field to plow.

I've given you a rough go, haven't I, Yank?

Your time will come.

I want them in a round of dice.

This sheep man wanted to sell out and go looking for some fancy woman.

So what do I do with 12 woolies and three in a family way?

I decided to give them to a lovely lady who may be starting a family herself one

of these days.

I'm much obliged to you, Sergeant, but I thank you to save your haunted words for

your pregnant sheep.

Father Christmas!

You trying to trap me here with an army of bloody sheep?

None of your damn business what I do.

Now, if you brought her a horse... Well, now, there's a few wild ones running in

the hills.

Borrow one of my trooper's mounds, and tomorrow we'll have a go at roping one.

Make it a mare.

It's about time I put a female in front of my plow.

You got yourself your female, Yank.

Lady, your time will come.

Oh, her time came all right.

Oh, shut your mouth.

Nah, she's a bloody backbreaker.

Give it time to repent our sins and get used to that saddle.

We'll take tons going up on her tomorrow.

Rub his leg with a drop of elixir.

Sergeant, I've work to do.

Oh! Yank!

He's a foolish donkey, dear, with more pride than sense.

Take pity on him, dear.

Do it for me.

One female to another.

There, now. We're a fine pair, the two of us.

You see?

You tamed her.

She's yours now.

Help me up.

My leg!

Help yourself.

I've supper to cook.

Irish, I'm coming up.

You proper?

Irish!

You want me as bad as I want you.

Please don't touch me.

I've got seven more years for what I did to the last man trying to take me like

that.

Who, you bitch, who do you think you are, the virgin queen?

All I want is what any man wants.

And don't tell me that you didn't get it on that bloody convict ship.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Sixteen I was.

First night out, the sailors came down, picked the ones they wanted.

I fought them.

Four of them held me down.

And the mate came at me, laughing.

And then the others.

One by one

If

you want me to keep my hands off you

You stop looking so damn much like a woman.

Hey, where's your man?

Finally got lucky.

Oh, well, and a merry good morning to you too.

What can I do for you today, love? You want me to plow the South 40?

Split some logs for the sheep pen?

Maybe I could fashion your royal chastity belt.

I almost froze out there lining that damn bush last night.

If you'd been here where you belong, maybe Dyson wouldn't have run off with

half my sheep and you her horse.

They go toward the caves? I think so.

Hey, you're not going after them on foot.

They'll be on the other side of the hills by now.

That's it.

Beautiful. Hey, Bart, look what I found.

Yank!

Bart, come and talk to me from the Duchess.

I missed you, Yank.

What's the matter with you? Give her a squeeze.

What's mine is yours.

What's yours is mine.

Right?

Plenty more where that came from.

Where's the rest?

And my horse.

Look, it ain't gonna work, mate.

You'll never make a farmer.

There's only one kind of life for a young rouser like you.

And that's my kind.

Come on now, Millie, back to work.

Yanker me when I talk. Come on now, do as you're told.

Nothing's sweeter than stolen meat, huh, Bart?

Whether it's a sheep or a whore.

Oh, well, I'll tell you.

It ain't a bad life.

Everybody has to work, of course.

Except us, that is.

We collect.

Not enough to break anybody, mind you.

Because we want them there.

Building and breeding.

The next time their rent is due.

Sit down.

Why don't you come in with us?

Share and share alike.

You get the swag and I get the rope.

You got a great sense of humor, Adam.

No, the Lord never touched us this time. Not with you planning the locks.

You and me, we could run this whole cockeyed country.

To hell with your cockeyed country, mate. All I want is some way to ship

out, and you owe me that much.

All right.

The rocks in Port Jackson, there's no chance there.

You need some way of getting down the river. I have a small boat.

Well, then, there's an opium packet that runs the coast from Sydney on the dark

of the moon. I know the captain. I could talk to him.

I've done a little training with him.

Maybe he could get you to Melbourne. There you could get a clipper.

How much?

Oh, the sheep will do.

But take that damn mare back, because none of my boys can ride her.

What about the lag woman?

She'll have the land. That's all she wants.

Irish! She must have tossed one of them off.

Found her west of the hills.

Not a sign of the sheep.

Six left. Three about to land. We'll need a shelter.

Have one up by dark tomorrow.

You've work of your own to finish.

I hope you don't plan to float that handsome boat of yours without caulking

it first.

Would you like me to put the tar on to boil?

Bloody yank.

I thought you'd be gone with the first stiff breeze.

Heard how good you and your woman make it now.

Thought we'd give it a go.

We're planting the other side of the valley.

It's a big country. Why'd you bring them here?

Oh, you're going to show those greenhorns all about the plough and the

seed. Like hell I will. You're still a lag and you'll do what you're told.

All right, Sergeant.

What are we waiting for? Come on!

Water your horses.

Then I'll show you your new home.

It's little bit and it's full of it And it's clear off this land

And it's slaving like a lunatic Which I never

had planned

I'm a gentleman and not used to it, and I'm no pioneer.

I would sooner be a sitting dancer with a pint of cold beer.

Try to get the center beam up in the morning.

All right, I'll be over and give you a hand.

Good night, ladies.

Good night, Adam.

Thank this for the sacrifice.

All right. Good night, Adam. Good night.

Yes, she's near.

Scratch her behind the ear. At least her pain if she knows you love her.

Ah, there now, my lady, there.

It won't be long now, not at all.

Get me.

Let me go.

She's got it coming.

I've tried to blighten her out of the world. Only she ain't got none. Me

don't. You kill her and we're all in for it. She's my woman.

Let's hear it, Kosh.

It's not just her stealing rum from her friends.

No, it's not the drink it made. That I can take.

The other.

At night.

To charge me for it.

Keep them to score, she says.

Till Bob arrives.

The girl has to put someone by for a rainy day.

Bow Street or... The cheap John Company bastard.

Oh, shut up, both of you.

You're a wife now Learn to live with him or it's back to the factory

and you a

Woman's like a good dog you

You pat her on the head and she'll wag her tail But you kick her every night

and you're gonna wake up with her teeth in your rump

Yang, quick!

Found them lying outside on the hill, about to drop their lands.

This one's big enough for twins.

You must have dipped into the winter larder for that one, Irish. That's a

banquet fit for a king.

Or even a yank.

I'm gonna take a walk.

I won't be back.

You knew it had to come. I never lied to you about that.

And you have neighbors now. You won't be alone.

And O'Shea won't blame you for my escape. All you've done, he'll see they

let you keep the land.

Stop looking at me like some bloody sheep in labor. I kept my part of the

bargain.

The way you talked last night.

Well, you think I want some whore's belly slit with a knife and O'Shea

flapping down on us again?

Is that all it meant?

That's all.

I've my own life to live.

If I thought I could stop you by taking a knife, you'd do it.

Forget me, Irish.

You'll make some good man a proper wife.

Don't you understand?

You damn well rid of me.

If you want me, you can have me.

Now.

Top of the morning to you, missus.

How they look when you raft them out of the hay at first light.

That's by measure of a woman.

Any man that would go off and leave a morsel like you on a plate deserves to

be hung.

Where's Adam?

Where's Adam?

He's in chains by now, sweating out the rope.

I cashed him in.

Yeah.

His Excellency, Generalist of Philip MacDonald, ma'am.

Governor of New South Wales.

Never mind about all the fanfare and gold braid, Sergeant. Good afternoon,

Mrs. Beecher.

I'm just here to have a look around, and I must say I find the view quite lovely.

Start it with yourself, ma'am.

Oh, sir, you're close enough to the Blarney Stone to give it a lick.

Won't you come in and have a cup of tea?

Adam is just hunting on the other side of the hill there. Oh, I'll find him.

It's not very fancy, sir, but... Oh, don't apologize.

A good farmer always puts his first year's labour where it counts, in the

land.

Mrs Beecher, I've something to say to you. So if you'll be good enough to let

that tea brew itself.

Mr Muir is a very determined man.

He finally unearthed the truth about your ruckus with Magistrate Barrett.

It grieves me a great deal to learn what he did to you.

So we've decided to overrule the additional sentence.

And since your original term has now run out... you're a free woman.

Means you're free.

You can go where you like.

Or stay here.

If you were mind to.

And Adam?

Adam was convicted of a capital crime.

His 20 years must stand.

Please, sir.

Oh, don't think I'm ungrateful.

But don't tell Adam about this.

Sergeant, help Mrs. Beecher with the tea.

Afternoon, sir. Good afternoon, Beecher. I want to see what you've been up to.

Caught you at a bad time, haven't I?

Perhaps I should have given you another day or two to dry your soggy spirits

after your little dip in the sea.

You were a fool to try it, Beecher.

But you might be flattered to know that your Dutch captain wanted 50 gold

sovereigns for you. And once more, our chief magistrate would have been

delighted to pay it. Have you no sense, man, of how close you came to dancing a

hornpipe for the hangman?

If you're going to clap me an iron, sir, do it and be done.

That wasn't exactly my intention.

Then why are you here, Governor?

Are Boston gentlemen always so blunt?

So you finally got your report on the Boston gentlemen?

Actually, it wasn't that much of a lie, sir. My father is a wealthy old goat.

Unfortunately, he never married my mother.

So, like all poor Yankee bastards, I went to sea, jumped ship in Liverpool,

ended up in jail, and here I am.

King of the Kangaroo.

I want to take a look.

See how you ploughed the hill.

Ah, I see you've cut your furrows on the buyers so they catch the rain.

Excellent.

You didn't come here to talk about the rain, Governor.

No, I didn't.

One day I hope to see a town, a thriving town, built by convicts.

But that will never happen unless someone with a dream leads the way.

Someone like you, Adam Beecher.

Me?

Oh, sir, I'm no bloody dreamer. No, but you're young, you're stubborn, and

you're a leader.

Excuse me for saying so, Your Excellency, but you must be daft.

Indeed, I may be, but hear me out.

Barrett and his hounds are baying after me, and they've got friends in London.

I may have a year, even less, before they recall me.

You give me your best for that one year, and I'll move heaven and earth to secure

a pardon for you. How long will it take?

20 years?

You've tried to escape and failed.

You want your freedom?

This is the only way.

How can I be sure of the pardon?

All you have is my word.

Just as all I have is your word.

Sir, anybody who trusts me is a bloody fool.

Then shake the hand of a bloody fool and let's call it a fair bargain.

25 shillings.

Adam!

guys smile well

kneel, Edward Barrett.

Arise, Sir Edward.

Congratulations, Sir Edward.

Please convey my humble gratitude to Her Majesty on your return to England.

Congratulations, Sir Edward.

May I express my appreciation to our distinguished governor for helping to

make my day such a memorable one?

Thank you, sir.

Shall we discuss that charter with His Excellency?

Am I still the governor, Lord Croydon? Of course. Then I won't waste your time,

sir, or mine, discussing a charter that would give away New South Wales.

to a chief magistrate who has done all in his power to line his pocket at the

expense of the crown and harass my people at Kilmorry. And I, sir, will not

be vilified by a man who undermines British morality by setting convicts

loose to fornicate on crown lands.

While we're on that subject, sir, what would you say of a gentleman who amuses

himself by lifting the skirts of convict girls chained to the floor of his

kitchen? Does that qualify him to be knighted for having upheld British

morality? If you were ten years younger, sir, I would thrash you. Try it, sir.

I'd be happy to waive the ten years.

Governor, Sir Edward, I won't have this. Lord Croydon, you've been here long

enough to know just what responsible people think of the governor. You have

every authority to dismiss him. I ask you, sir, in the light of all the

evidence and the signed petition which I presented to you today, must we wait any

longer? You'll damn well wait and see Kilmoran and judge for yourself.

or I'll raise such a howl the Queen herself will hear me.

I'll make my own decision, Sir Edward, and in my own time.

I have a great deal more evidence to take, and I certainly want to see

Kilmorran for myself.

Thank you, sir.

We shall expect you at the end of the month.

It had to be.

The seventh this month.

Sun and fresh air, Doc. You can't top it for putting a bit of ginger in your

mouth. Well, when they are working night and day, how do they find the time?

I bet you can't wait to tell him. I can't, but I will.

He's enough to worry him just now.

After the governor's visit will be soon enough.

Dyson again. They stole our wagon load of black powder.

Adam and the sergeant went after him.

Need a light, mate?

I'm not going to let you go!

Take me, woman!

I was about to remove my breeches when that Jezebel there winked at me.

Naturally, I called my wife.

You like the dress, then? Oh, it's a lovely thing.

Yes, I'd ask it to dance, only my wife is a jealous type.

Bess, you're not worried about tomorrow.

I don't want them to come.

But we're bloody well ready for them, aren't we?

Well, why should we have to parade ourselves like prize horses at one of

their grand shows?

Nobby, Annie, you, me, and the rest of them.

We could win a hundred ribbons, and they'd still look down their noses at

us, because we'd still be nothing but bloody horses to them.

If you can make me smile, love, it can't be that bad. Now, come on, now, give us

a grin!

They're in heaven. Pins. I've spilled pins.

That's three years bad luck.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, seven more. It's ten years good luck.

It's just a superstition, love. You know that.

I'm scared, Adam.

I'm just an ignorant girl. I'll spoil it all for you. The pardon, everything.

If you could just shut me up in the attic until it's over.

Will you stop talking like that now?

You're a lovely woman, Bess.

And I'm proud to have you as my wife.

A bloody bog rat posing as a lady.

I've been on my knees scrubbing their kitchens, chained to a ring in the

floor.

How can I stand in front of them now?

Ah, you just don't understand.

You're a gentleman born to the silver.

I'm a bastard.

A rich man's bastard.

I don't believe you. On Cromwell's grave.

You don't believe me?

All right.

There's only one way I know for a man to prove his credentials.

They hear us all over the hills. Let them hear us in Sydney.

Are you listening, Governor?

Look alive, Lord Croydon. The legs are on the loose. They've worked their tails

off for a year more now.

It's time to play.

A game of tag.

Winner gets the prize.

Come here.

We'll make a new one.

I'm dizzy.

There's three of you as if one weren't enough.

She's still looking at us.

I'll let her find her old man.

I've got mine.

Welcome, Governor.

You've done it, Beecher. It's even better than I expected.

Thank you, sir. We both might get a pardon out of this.

Lord Croydon, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Adam Beecher.

Beecher's the man I told you about, sir.

Delighted.

And this is Sir Edward Barrett, Chief Magistrate.

We've met before, sir.

Mrs. Beecher?

Well, we are what we are, Bess. You said it. Horses on parade.

Notice how none of them are venturing too close to the show ring?

It's the manure.

I don't.

Has he said anything, the governor?

Now, why would you be worrying about my pardon?

Oh, you won't have that chain of yours around my neck anymore.

You'll have to watch yourself then, won't you, woman, if you want to keep

your fiddle-footed yank at home.

There's other ways to handle you, my bucko.

Even an old bird can't keep his wings still when there are charming ladies

about him. Excuse me, Alex.

Yes, sir.

Will he get it, sir?

The pardon?

Oh, I knew I shouldn't ask.

But all this will mean nothing to him if he can't be free.

Now, you're not to worry less.

Thank you, Mrs. Beecher.

Thank you, sir.

Come on, woman.

Oh, no.

It's my turn, Yank.

You're a lucky man, Beecher.

I hope so, sir.

Yes,

I think we've let Sir Edward harangue the poor Commissioner long enough, don't

you?

So, if you'll excuse me.

And, of course, this scheme of Sir Philip's would be a constant and a

growing burden on Her Majesty's treasury.

Ah, that's debatable.

Excuse me, Sir Edward.

I'd like a few words with the commissioner alone.

If you please, Sir Edward.

We're in for a dandy brawl before we bury our tin soldier, gentlemen.

With him sucking up to the crown now.

A dream, of course.

But fascinating.

Kill Moran five years from now.

Morgan did it. Our convict architect.

But the vision behind it was Adam Beecher's.

We might just transport that rascal the other way round. We could use him in

London, huh?

Sir, I'd like a pardon for Beecher.

Of course you would.

So would I if I were an incurable romantic.

Oh, perhaps in five years. Five years?

That boy's under sentence for a crime he didn't commit.

But he still worked like an ox to build Kilmoran.

To begin Kilmoran.

Be a realist, sir.

We need him here to finish the job he started so brilliantly.

It will be a feather in both our caps. I see.

You'd ride on his back to a cabinet post, but you'd deny him his freedom,

eh? That boy would jump the next ship to America if we were foolish enough to

give him a pardon. You're wrong. I know this man. He's tried to escape twice.

And from all I hear, he despises this colony.

That was before Kilmory.

There's nothing in this world would tear him away from it now, except perhaps the

incredible stupidity of Her Majesty's Commissioner of Inquiry.

Ah, just admiring your vision, Beecher. Most impressive.

Excuse me, my Lord.

He turned me down, didn't he?

Go ahead, sir, tell me.

It, um... It will take a little longer, that's all. Now, don't lie to me like

that. I'm not lying to you.

Give me time, Adam.

I promise you... No, you already promised me.

Don't you remember we shook hands on it?

I'll move heaven and earth, you said.

Well, you move them.

And where am I now?

All I wanted was to dance with her.

Hairs and braces for the malign bitch I used to have chained up in my kitchen.

Adam, darling, don't!

And where would you be off to at dawn?

None of your damn business, is there?

Ah, no, Yank.

We're sensible men.

Surely we can discuss this without losing our heads.

You die rough, you mate. Yeah, let me help you up, eh?

Ah, enough of that now!

I know. Why'd you make me go and do that?

Come on, we'll be getting home.

Well,

that was a raw one, young.

I think you're losing my favorite tooth here.

Go damn it! What does it matter to you?

It matters to her.

Your wife.

What the hell are you running away for?

You have it all right here, Yank.

A bloody paradise.

And a woman the likes of which you'll never find again.

Not in Boston or Timbuktu or wherever the hell you're going.

You're after her yourself, aren't you?

What?

You.

You're in love with Bess and you have been all along.

I know, but she's not for me.

It's Dyson.

He's riding on Kilmoran today.

She came to warn us.

Tell him, girl.

Millie, who's with him?

Jagger Burke's men and the Stratton bunch from up Kangaroo Valley.

We made a fool of him. He won't forget it.

We'll need a central defense point.

Town Hall.

Aye, everything into Glamoran.

Horses, cattle, sheep, women and kids. Best warn Morgan, now be the whole south

end of the valley.

All right, come on.

Yank, come on.

All

right,

we got it now.

I want all the wagons inside the town within the hour. What about the horses?

Take them into the bush and tie them up. Better take some men with you.

Come on, lads. Come on, guys.

One, two, heave!

Put some of those in there.

Two of you, come with me.

Over there, Bash.

You're welcome.

We got the bodies ready for the burying.

Pinned up as many animals as we could find.

We'll search the brush along the river in the morning.

We'll make it better than it was before.

They trusted me.

Believed everything I told them.

All dead and gone.

Quietly, so that they won't disturb our sleep tonight.

Adam. Oh, you love me, and I love you, and isn't it a lovely world?

You couldn't even wait till morning, could you?

Had to clamp your chains back on with your sheep and pigs and whatever the

hell else you got in that damn wagon.

And next you'll be whispering about a baby coming.

Now, won't that be a lovely song to sing together at the close of day?

Adam! A man is nothing without his freedom! Nothing! I know that! You're

just like that old bastard of a general. You'd like to lock me up here forever,

wouldn't you? Him with his lies about pardoning you with your bloody fairy

tale about love.

What the hell with you both?

I'll make my own life.

Adam! Take me with you!

Adam, no!

You've got your bloody land.

No! You'll not want for company.

O'Shea will look in on you, make sure your sheep increase and your spuds keep

growing at night.

And who knows?

He might just join you for that lullaby.

They caught him.

On his way to the docks.

Serves him right.

He's in Darlinghurst.

You know what that means.

Get on there.

You can't hang him now, sir.

After what he's done for you, you can't.

You'd be a bloody murderer. Don't worry, lass.

It's Dyson who will hang, not Adam.

I've done what I should have done that night and killed Morin.

Given him his full pardon.

I'd like to see him.

He headed back to the docks, lass.

I wish I could offer you some words of comfort, Lass, but I'm rather at a loss

myself.

I know it was only a dream, but I hope that Adam might be able to carry on for

me at Kilmorin now that I won't be here.

Are you not here, sir?

No, Sergeant.

I've been dismissed.

But, sir, without you... Without me, Sergeant, you'll probably be a damn

sight better off.

Back to whips and chains.

Not after I get to London and have my say.

Is there anything that I can do?

No, sir.

Nothing.

You never did choose the right place to build that bloody hut, didn't it occur

to you the stream could rise in a wet year?

If you knew so damn much, why didn't you say something when we first got here?

Fat chance that I had being heard with you shouting orders at me all the time.

If I hadn't, you'd still be bloody well lying down there under that tree,

twiddling your toes.