Original subtitles

My Dear Holmes,

today I walked 14 miles across rough terrain

and hardly a twinge

from either my leg or my shoulder.

The landscape is as handsome as it is reported.

I still entertain the hope

that I can prevail upon you to join me.

I appreciate, of course,

that the beauties of nature mean little to you,

but I believe you would have found

some of the guests at my hotel most intriguing.

Moral splendor is on display in the person

of the striking Major Shlessinger,

a hero of the Boer War,

sadly crippled in the defense of Ladysmith

and now engaged in charitable work.

His nurse is a Ms. Calder

whose attentiveness suggests not only

that she is his disciple but also

that tenderer feelings may be involved.

Most fascinating of all, however,

is an extraordinary woman,

one who would stand out in any society,

the Lady Frances Carfax.

I suppose one would call her modern

except that she seems to come from

an ancient line of English eccentrics.

Yesterday, as if to confirm

the general opinion of her oddity,

she declared that she would

sail herself to church across the lake.

There was much speculation in the hotel carriage

as we traveled towards

the charming little lakeside chapel

about whether Lady Frances

would be as good as her word.

And those of us foolish enough to doubt her

were soon rebuked by the sight of a skiff

moored in the shallows

and by the stern gaze of its captain

when she greeted us within.

A surprisingly jolly sermon, Vicar,

a lot like a cat.

Well, she appears to care not a jot

what her fellow guests make of her

and seems quite insensible to the vivid impression

she creates wherever she goes.

We were all amused certainly

at the sight of her trying to board the skiff,

but since she had accomplished

the outward journey with such skill,

we had no reason to suppose

that her return voyage

would present her with any greater difficulty

or that it would end in the way that it did.

I had decided to walk back across the fill

so I was not amongst those who waited

to cheer Lady Frances on her return.

I arrived a little later at exactly the moment

when tragedy threatened to strike.

Help!

Help, here!

Help!

I was helpless, my dear Holmes,

helpless.

I have never felt so powerless in my life,

as powerless so I thought

as the old soldier in his wheelchair

who had only been able to shout,

it seemed, for help.

As with many men,

I have noticed a weakness in one part of the body

is compensated by great strength elsewhere.

Unable to walk,

Shlessinger was yet able to swim powerfully

with his arms alone.

Reinforcements arrived in due course from the hotel,

and tragedy was happily averted.

Now, all parties are recovered,

it is reported that the Lady Frances

is resentful of her rescue

as if her suffragette principles

had been somehow compromised.

All agree at any rate

that Major Shlessinger is the hero of the hour.

Ms. Calder's attentions are now translated

into patent adoration.

No doubt further praise will be in order

when he lectures on his missionary activities

at the hotel tomorrow.

He is, by the way, the British representative

of the Mission Church of Christ the Healer

whose theater works in the high Andes of Peru.

Morning.

Major Shlessinger is avoiding me.

The poor man is embarrassed by his own heroism.

Perhaps he now thinks

I'm obliged to contribute to his work.

Men have such extraordinary weaknesses.

Don't you think.

Oh, yes, certainly, we do, of course, I agree.

Would you care to take a turn by the lake, Doctor?

Major Shlessinger works tirelessly for his church,

does he not?

I understand the need for funds is considerable.

He's lecturing on his cause tomorrow

here in the hotel hoping to raise some money.

He'll do well.

The local matronage will happily part

with half a guinea each

for the company of such a man

all be it in public.

Do I shock you?

Not at all.

I shock my brother.

As the Earl of Rufton,

I think he feels it is his duty to be shocked.

Oh, it's very beautiful here, isn't it?

I spent every summer of my childhood here by this lake.

It's very beautiful.

It is indeed.

He's to visit me tomorrow.

Who?

My brother.

That is duty, too, of course.

Damn him.

Damn him.

Ah, Lady Frances.

What a pleasant surprise.

I must confess that her behavior

continues to fascinate me.

I grant that her reaction to this

unknown horseman was extreme,

but many of her reactions are.

Had she known him, I wonder?

What lies in her past to prompt this fear of him?

In looking for an explanation,

I am placing some hopes

in the visit we expect this afternoon

from her brother, the Earl of Rufton.

By all accounts, his oddities

are of an entirely different order

from those of his sister.

Where she flouts convention,

he has raised the conventions of a former era

to the status of a faith.

As for myself,

I notice an increasing indifference

to the natural beauty which lies about me.

My thoughts return constantly

to the Lady Frances.

There is something about her life

which prompts my sympathy,

some unhappiness I can sense

which I would dearly like to dispel.

It is to be hoped that her spirits

will be lifted by her brother's visit

for she remains subdued

from yesterday's strange encounter.

Who is he, Holmes?

Why does he not wish to make himself known?

Why indeed?

Watson, you're a brick.

I came here, Fanny, to see how you were,

not to be lectured.

It's not a lecture, it's a request.

It sounds like a lecture.

It's quite simple, I need some money.

Just like that?

I suppose you've been overdoing again, haven't you?

I do not overdo it, John.

If I have ever overspent

the wretched allowance you've given me,

it's because someone has been in need.

Oh, yes, your famous heart of gold,

except that it's my money, and there isn't any.

You know perfectly well there isn't.

The hall is falling to bits.

There's a family of owls in the east wing,

and you think.

What is it this time?

Helping penniless poets in Islington?

You only know how to be cruel, don't you?

When have you ever cared for what I want?

The last 15 years of my life have been wretched

and now, at last, I had a chance

to make something of it.

Doesn't that have any meaning for you?

I don't see what difference it makes.

The difference it makes

is that I'm being told what to do.

You know I loathe it.

The trouble is you won't even take advice,

will you?

You've been offered everything.

You've turned it all down.

What have I been offered?

Marriage, good marriages.

Ha, ha, ha.

To be the unpaid slave of a titled yokel

who hasn't even read a book,

who thinks Bach is something terriers do.

All right, all right.

What have you got against me doing this?

What?

I want to get out of this

miserable mess my life is in

to be my own woman, for God's sake,

to fulfill just a portion of my life.

Why do you always hold me back?

Think of it, John,

think of it.

Just one payment.

One.

You could see the back of me forever.

The mule express as we have dubbed it

brings the mail once a month.

Letters, of course,

and food for the mind from the Library of Christ.

And medicines for the well being of my flock

whom you may see here

posing outside the mission

below a temporary belfry.

When I show you the next picture

of a leading member of my congregation,

you will understand how the parable

of the shepherd and the lost sheep

has become transmuted in our teaching

into that of the llama herd and the lost llama.

And finally, our church,

humble as it is,

rough and poor indeed,

I'm proud to tell you

that the word of God

is preached as fervently within its walls

and is as joyously received there

as in any great cathedral here at home.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

It was inspiring as I predicted.

I regret to say that the rigors of his itinerary

press hard upon Major Shlessinger

who will shortly be departing for Whitehaven.

We shall be taking up a collection

on behalf of his estimable mission, of course.

What do you mean?

I mean that the remedy lies in your own hands.

How?

You know how.

If you're really serious, you'll know what to do,

damn it.

I'm sick of you coming to me

with these crackpot notions.

You know my responsibilities.

If you hadn't thrown away all your chances,

you wouldn't be in this position now.

Well, I've had enough.

You know what you have to do.

Grow up and do it.

My last resort, my very last resort.

How can you suggest it.

Groom.

Groom.

Where the devil are you?

In which room

is Mr. Shlessinger's meeting taking place?

I am afraid the meeting finished

half an hour ago, madam.

Mr. Shlessinger will have left for Whitehaven by now.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I've forgotten.

Thank you.

Lady Frances.

Leave me alone.

Excuse me.

You, sir.

I've no doubt

you will tell me my fears are unfounded, Holmes,

but the repeated appearance of this man

has cast a shadow over her life

which try as she might

she cannot lift.

Evening paper, Mr. Holmes?

Mrs. Hudson, fetch me a cab.

Mrs. Hudson.

As soon as the telegraph office is opened,

to Dr. John Watson,

Lake Hotel, Felmire, Cumberland.

And what of Mr. Holmes?

I shall not be here, Mrs. Hudson.

Dr. Watson.

I shall be on the 8:17 out of Uston.

Dr. Watson.

My cab awaits you downstairs.

Read.

Mr. Holmes.

Read.

Grave danger Lady Frances, stop.

Never let from sight, stop.

On my way, Holmes.

How long has this been here?

I um.

Holmes.

Disappeared, Watson.

Disappeared.

Did Lady Frances pay her bill?

No, sir.

Did she order any transport?

No, sir.

And she took none of her luggage?

We think not, sir.

Where is Mr. Holmes?

Nothing yet, Holmes.

I'm beginning to fear the worst.

I blame myself.

I knew I should have pursued that fellow.

It is a possibility.

What is?

Do you not see it?

It is most conspicuous.

What?

The skiff, Watson, the sailing skiff.

It's not here.

Precisely.

It is possible there lies the Lady Frances Carfax

silent road to Avonside.

It is the nearest railhead as you know.

You don't mean that this fellow abducted her by boat?

Silk.

It is one of the three more likely possibilities.

Best French sewn, dove gray.

She had a gray silk shawl.

No, well, that will tell us nothing more.

What are the three possibilities, Holmes?

In what did she usually wear the shawl?

Oh, her outside clothes.

The three possibilities?

She may have run away with her intended abductor.

He may have abducted her by boat as you suggest

or by some other means.

She may, considering her emotional condition,

have been deceived into going with him.

I can hardly believe that.

She was terrified of him, believe me.

I believe you.

Yes.

A stray chicken in the world of foxes.

Once she's gobbled up, she's hardly missed.

Come, Watson.

And our horses should be saddled by now.

Horses?

I have been somewhat extravagant

in choice of mounts,

but delay must be dangerous in this matter.

We should be at Rufton Hall at dusk.

I don't see what possible interest

it could have for you, sir.

Considerable interest I assure you.

One of the most dangerous classes in the world

is the drifting and friendless woman

with no one to protect and guide her.

She is the inevitable inciter of crime in others.

I treat the disappearance of your sister

with utmost seriousness.

Do you think I do not?

I'm merely suggesting that it is frivolous

to keep from me the substance of your quarrel.

It was after all this quarrel

which immediately preceded her disappearance.

Might it have something to do

with a drunken poet she once knew?

What?

I understand of my colleague

that she may have seen him recently.

Green?

I thought I'd seen the last of him.

I sent him packing, 15 years ago.

What is his connection with your sister?

He used to court her.

Great brute of a fellow.

She wouldn't have anything to do with him.

The Honorable Philip Green.

Never was a title so abused.

He went to the dogs completely,

drink, gambling.

Ended up destitute in Islington

pretending to write poetry.

Of course, Frances became interested in him

as soon as he lost everything.

How did you send him packing?

He was a violent fellow,

and he drank.

I'd heard talk of prosecution,

debt, assault.

I gave him 100 pounds

and bought him a ticket to Australia.

Show his face around here,

I'll set the dogs on him.

Now, your quarrel with your sister.

Money.

She wanted money.

She has none of her own?

I make her an allowance out of the estate.

It's modest, but you've seen the place.

She has no assets herself?

Yes, she has.

I told her if she wanted money,

she could sell this.

It's a priceless collection.

That was designed for the French royal family

by Fragenalt.

We acquired it all at the revolution,

and now, it's hers.

What I have is owls,

owls in the east wing.

Want to see the owls?

Where does she keep them?

Does she travel with them?

No.

Well, now, where are they kept?

My Lord, your sister has vanished.

How and why we do not know,

but I have reason to believe

she is in the gravest danger.

Were we to know the whereabouts of the jewelry,

we might have some chance of saving her.

The Oxford and Lombard Maritime Bank in Pall Mall.

Thank you.

The Oxford and Lombard Bank

opens its doors in 12 hours.

She may already have come and gone.

The bank's been open for 20 minutes.

I've been quite blind, Holmes.

I had the evidence in the palm of my hand.

If anything's happened to her, I shall...

Holmes, look.

May I help you, sir?

Yes, please, I wish to see the manager.

It's a part of a deal.

It's a private matter concerning

a family deposit with the bank.

My colleague.

Watson.

You, sir?

I, sir?

You, sir.

What have you done with the Lady Frances Carfax?

I insist upon an answer.

(unintelligible)

Frances!

Frances!

I blame myself.

No, you need not.

Nevertheless, I do.

We all bear equal blame.

She's disappeared again,

and that is that.

It is pointless to dwell on it.

Our task now is to find her.

Mr. Green,

let us go back to that moment

by the lake yesterday morning.

I was out riding in the dawn,

and I saw the skiff

sailing across the lake toward Ironside.

And you realized that it was the Lady Frances?

Yes.

Was she alone?

Yes.

Please continue.

I managed to board the same train.

I begged her to speak to me.

I told her how I'd traveled the world

and had become a very rich man.

I told her that I'd never stopped loving her

and that she could have whatever she wanted.

I can see her now.

She sat saying nothing,

smiling like a sphinx.

No, she said.

She wanted to go her own way.

When we got to London,

I followed her as best I could,

but she seemed determined to be rid of me.

I lost her somewhere near Sellick Bridge.

Sellick?

Oh, that is most interesting.

Why?

I'm reliably informed that his usual haunts

are west of Westminster.

Who's haunts?

How did you come to be at the bank?

I reasoned that she would be needing money

while she was in London,

and I know the address

of the family bank well enough.

I had the wild idea

of enlisting the manager's help.

Do you know where she is, Mr. Holmes?

No, I do not.

Where do you think she is?

I believe that through our efforts to save her,

we have driven her into the hands

of her worst enemy.

But we saw her free.

My dear Watson,

a person may walk over the edge of the cliff

because they've been invited to gaze at the moon.

Her eyes may be open,

but she is I believe at this moment

walking into mortal danger.

Shlessinger.

Mr. Shlessinger.

This last week I sought to acquaint myself

with the world of apostolic missions.

I've also made a search of the records

of Scotland Yard.

Shlessinger,

is also known as the Reverend Joseph Cubbington,

Amos Callow, the Dean of Masaro

and Edmund, the Bishop of Lima.

His real name, in fact, is Peters.

He's a confidence trickster

known at Scotland Yard by the uninspired logic

of that place as Holy Peters.

What is not yet suspected

but incontrovertible nonetheless

is that he is a murderer.

Peters specialty,

is the beguiling of single woman with private means

by playing on their religious

and charitable feelings.

Helena Rosenbloom had been engaged

in charitable work for ten years

when she met Shlessinger.

He inspired her to devote her energies

to a new mission in the Andes.

Ms. Rosenbloom changed her will,

said good-bye to her former life

and boarded the SS Elmyria at Glasgow

bound for South America.

She was lost overboard

the first night at sea.

The SS Elmyria docked at Liverpool

for the family to retrieve her effects.

Shlessinger also disembarked.

He went to ground at the Lake District

where he met his next intended victim,

the Lady Frances Carfax.

At last, gentlemen,

at last.

Where was it pawned?

Riley's of Stockwall.

It was by my calculation the 27th shop I tried.

Riley has received two sentences to my knowledge

for the receipt of stolen goods.

He will cooperate with us.

What does this mean?

What does it mean?

Please, Mr. Green, this is pointless.

Don't torture yourself.

Do you think the torture is self-induced?

The thought of Frances in the hands of criminals.

Such thoughts come unbidden, Mr. Holmes.

They break through the strongest defenses

the mind can raise against them.

Calm yourself, Mr. Green,

calm yourself.

If she's still innocent

of Shlessinger's true identify,

she may well be safe for a time.

And if not?

Then it is clear that he cannot let her loose

without his own destruction.

Now, we must continue to hope

that she remains ignorant of who he is.

Fifteen years.

I knew I could never come back

until I'd made something of myself.

Perhaps it was foolish of me to think

that she would look kindly on me

after all these years,

but I was ridiculously encouraged by the fact

that she was not married.

And now, my stupidity has driven her

into the arms of a murderer.

What can I do?

Is there nothing I can do?

Does Shlessinger know you by sight?

No.

Ah, well, then there is something that you can do.

But it'll demand great patience.

I have waited for 15 years, Mr. Holmes.

Shlessinger's had a fair price for the jewelry

and no questions asked.

He'll almost certainly return to Riley's shop.

And Rosenblooms attorney for the will.

Now, give this note to Riley.

He will let you wait at the shop.

It may be a long wait,

but you possess your soul in patience.

And above all, no violence.

It's late.

Well, it should have been here before now.

Well, they say it took longer

being out of the ordinary.

The address, dear, remind me.

Yes, sir, can I help?

Argyle Street.

I'm looking for Argyle Street.

There's a post office round the corner.

Try there.

Mr. Green, we can do nothing without a warrant.

This is intolerable.

Until we have some wretched signature

on a piece of paper, we can do nothing.

Meanwhile,

these fiends can do with her what they will.

Are you certain

that you've told me every detail?

Every detail, I promise.

Then take this note to Scotland Yard.

They will understand the urgency of it.

And I am to wait there for the warrant.

You will not get it today.

What?

Some delay is inevitable.

A magistrate must be found.

The process of the law can be encouraged

but not goaded.

Tomorrow may be too late for God's sake.

Mr. Green,

everything that can be done will be done.

Go.

Tomorrow may indeed be too late.

I'm well aware of it.

Arm yourself, Watson.

We are as usual the irregulars

who must take our luck together

as we have occasionally done in the past.

8:00 tomorrow morning,

Brickston Cemetery.

I fancy that you've been misdirected, sir.

Possibly if you try further down the street.

That will do.

We have no time to waste.

You are Harry Peters,

late Major Albert Shlessinger,

veteran of the Boer War.

Your further aliases

I will not bore you by repeating.

And what is your name?

Sherlock Holmes.

My friend and companion I think you know.

The house will shortly be under police observation

until a warrant is prepared

authorizing a search of the premises.

Your name does not frighten me, Mr. Holmes.

I have nothing to hide.

What is your business?

I'm looking for the Lady Frances Carfax.

I'm delighted to hear it.

If anyone can find her, I imagine you can.

Perhaps you'd be so good as to tell me when you do.

I've a note against her for nearly 100 pounds,

and nothing to show for it

but a couple of trumpery pendants

that the dealer would hardly look at.

The woman's a leech.

How dare you, sir.

You imposed upon us as a man crippled

in a military action.

You are a fraud.

Oh, it may not have been a military action

to satisfy your standards of slaughter, Doctor,

but it was enough for me.

Hm-mm.

I salute your powers of improvisation, sir,

and your effrontery, but it will not do.

Oh, I'm perfectly serious.

You find her, and I'm your debtor.

I mean to go through this house until I do.

You have a warrant?

This will serve until a better one comes.

Why you're a common burglar.

And my friend is a dangerous ruffian.

Together we mean to go through your house.

I'm in no position to stop you.

Search where you will.

I have nothing to hide.

Where is the coffin

that you had brought into this house?

That is none of your business.

I repeat where?

Is it not enough

that you force your way into my home,

that you threaten me at gunpoint,

must you also now invade the peace of the dead?

Where?

I shall not tell you.

Hold him here, Watson.

I don't believe you'd use that

on an unarmed man, Doctor,

and in my condition.

I was a soldier in India, sir.

I've shot nobler creatures than you.

Lights, Watson, lights.

I smelled formaldehyde and astringent.

Thank God.

It's not her.

Get them out.

You have violated the peace of the dead.

You will now leave.

Who is she?

Get them out.

Her name is Rose Spender.

Get them out.

She is my wife's old nurse.

She's been with the family for half a century.

She died two days ago.

We are to bury her tomorrow morning.

Now, get out before I ask the police

you have summoned to my home

to come in and throw you out.

I've been considering the problem, Holmes.

It does seem to me that they

could not have murdered Lady Frances

and thought to have disposed of her body in that coffin

for they would then be faced with

burying the old lady.

It may be that this burial has no connection

with Lady Frances' disappearance after all.

I mean she was, as you know, the most

unpredictable creature.

It may be that she had second thoughts

about Shlessinger.

She may even have had some inkling

of the kind of man we believe him to be

and removed herself from the house.

He was, after all,

happy to let us search it.

What do you think?

What is your theory then?

I have none.

There are insufficient facts to construct a theory.

You think there's something you've overlooked?

It's late.

Well, it should have been there before now.

They say it took longer being out of the ordinary.

What has happened to any brains

that God has given me.

Watson.

Quick, man.

It's life or death.

A hundred chances on death

and one on life.

Oh, God most mighty, holy,

most merciful savior,

and our most worthy judge eternal,

suffer us not at our last hour

for any plains of death...

and never continuous in one stage.

In the midst of life, we are in death.

Of whom may we seek for succor but of thee, oh, Lord

who for our sins are justly displeased.

Yet, oh, Lord God, most holy...

For as much as it hath pleased almighty God

of his great mercy to take unto himself

the soul of our dear sister here departed,

we therefore commit her body to the ground.

Earth to earth,

ashes to ashes,

dust to dust

in sure and certain...

Stop.

Raise that coffin.

Whatever do you mean by this sacrilege?

Murder, sir.

Murder is what I mean.

Why such a deep coffin

for such a small old lady?

A sovereign to each of you

if you can lift the lid off that coffin in one minute.

Watson.

Stop or I'll shoot.

Ah.

It's chloroform.

She's known literally the terrors of the grave.

God knows what this will have done to her.

I've failed.

I have brought her back here

to the country of her childhood

which is one of the most beautiful on this planet.

There has been a great improvement as a result.

A landscape so familiar

and so intimate to her

will prompt in time a full response I feel sure

as will the company of friends and family

who've all been most kind and dutiful.

Her poor brother, the Earl,

is beside himself with anger at the criminals

and with mortification at his having quarreled

with Frances before all this happened.

Finally, please accept the enclosed

as a token of my gratitude

for your saving of my dear Frances,

Mr. Holmes,

and I look forward to our entertainment

of you and Dr. Watson

in a happier future.

I cannot accept it.

I refuse to be rewarded

for fostering a tragedy.

I've never suffered such a

complete eclipse of my faculties.

Well, like any eclipse, Holmes,

it's only temporary.

There's every hope of a full recovery.

I wonder.

I wonder.

Frances?