All language subtitles for The.Woman.In.Black.2012.BRRip.XviD-Blackjesus [Eng]

My babies!

Arthur?

Daddy?

Coming.

Do you like it, Daddy?

Very much.

- You didn't look at it properly.
- Of course I did.

That's me, that's Nanny,

that's Mummy, and that's you.

Why do I look so sad?

That's what your face looks like.

It is, is it?

I wish you didn't have to go away from me.

Me, too.

But we'll have the whole weekend
in the countryside, won't we?

See, tomorrow,

then Thursday,

and then we're back together.
Not long at all.

You look just like your mother.

- Have you got the train tickets?
- Yes, we've got the train tickets.

- And you know all the times?
- Yes, we know the times.

Okay, I've got to go
. Don't want to be late.

Go, we'll be fine. We'll see you Friday.

- See you.
- Wave bye-bye.

I know you've had it rough, Kipps,

and I'm sympathetic to your situation.

But we can't carry passengers.

We're a law firm, not a charity.

Good.

I take it Tomes has briefed you

on Mrs. Alice Drablow of Eel Marsh House.

Died. Last month.

Years since I went there, of course.

The old widow
didn't greatly care for visitors.

No children?

A boy. Died young.

Many years ago.

I'll let you have the details
to read on your journey.

But, principally, you're going to go
through Mrs. Drablow's documents.

Make sure we've got her final will.

There's a mountain of paperwork
at the house.

It all needs to be gone through.

- Every page.
- Very good.

We've been dealing
with a local man, Jerome.

But he's not really been cooperating.

What I'm hoping, Kipps,
is that you'll seize this chance

to prove your dedication
to pursuing a future with this firm.

This is your final warning.

Mummy?

- Mummy.
- My darling.

Mr. Kipps.

It's a boy.

I'm very sorry, Mr. Kipps.

Have we passed Crythin Gifford yet?

Next stop.

- So, you're up from London?
- I am.

Trying to sell Eel Marsh House?

You won't find a local buyer.

- Are you staying at The Gifford Arms?
- Yes.

It's a bit of a walk from the station.
I can give you a lift.

- It's on my way home.
- Thank you.

- Samuel Daily.
- Arthur Kipps.

It's a beautiful car, Mr. Daily.

First one in the county.
Still scares the locals.

Here we are.

Well, thank you.

Very good to talk to you, Mr. Daily.

Mr. Kipps?

Would you like to have supper with
my wife and me tomorrow evening?

You know, we don't get to see
many new faces here.

Besides, the food in there,
reckon even a dog wouldn't eat it.

- That'd be lovely. Thank you.
- Night.

Good evening.

I've a room booked until Sunday.
Mr. Kipps.

No, I'm not finding any booking.

My office had telegraphed ahead.

Well, we're packed to the rafters. So...

- Evening.
- Good evening.

I was just telling Mr. Kipps
that we don't have any room.

Well, we can't have him out
in this weather, can we?

Not in the rain.

We must have something, just for tonight.

We don't.

Unless you want to put him in the attic?

Fine.

It's this way.

Actually, I was hoping to stay
till the weekend.

My son and his nanny
are traveling up to join me.

I see.

If a holiday is
what you're after, sir,

you'd honestly be better off
further inland.

It gets awfully cold here,
what with the sea mists.

Sea mist. Sea mist.

It's this way.

- How old is your son?
- He's four.

Lovely age.

Thank you.

Goodnight.

In.

Hello?

Mrs. Jerome?

- Mr. Kipps?
- Yes.

My husband went to meet you
at The Gifford Arms.

This is Mr. Kipps.

I made it clear to your firm...

that there was no need for you
to make the journey.

We could have sent all
the relevant documents to London.

In any event, you'll find
all the legal papers in here.

Mr. Fisher tells me you're leaving today.

Not until I've taken care
of all Mrs. Drablow's paperwork.

- All in there, as I said.
- No, at the house.

I'm told there's quite
a substantial amount.

I don't expect to be finished
until Friday, at least.

It's not possible.

The Gifford Arms is fully booked
for the week.

I shall have to contact my office.

Do you have a telephone?

Not even Mr. Daily has a telephone, sir.
You'll not find one in Crythin Gifford.

Fine. I'll send a telegram.

The Post Office is closed
on Wednesday morning.

The London train leaves in half an hour.

My colleague, Keckwick, is waiting
outside with your luggage.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kipps.

Mr. Keckwick, a change of plans.

I'm not catching the train.
You'll take me to Eel Marsh House.

Jerome paid me to take you to the station.

- Make it six and I'll think about it.
- Six shillings?

You'll not find anyone else
willing to take you there.

There you are.

- Can you pick me up at 3:00?
- I can't.

I need to get back to the mainland
before the tide comes in,

else I'll be stuck here for the day.

It will be out again by 5:00.
I'll come back for you then.

5:00 then.

Come on, then.

Hello?

Who's there?

Get the boy!

Keckwick!

Mummy!

Get the boy!

Constable, I'm telling you,
I heard an accident.

No one has used Nine Lives Causeway
for years, sir.

Not since the little Drablow boy
was drowned in the marshes.

Eel Marsh House, it's empty.

It's not, though. I saw a woman there.

Excuse me one moment, sir.

Sir, my sister needs help.

What's the matter?
What's your name, darling?

- Her name is Victoria Hardy.
- What happened, Victoria?

- Did something bad happen?
- She drank some lye.

Our mum was out.

Lye. Oh, God. Constable!

- Is she going to die?
- Constable!

It's going to be all right.
Darling, just let me look at you...

Constable!

No!

No, my baby!

Hello?

Mrs. Fisher?

It's getting late.
You'll miss your London train.

I can't leave yet.

Please don't go back to Eel Marsh House.

Why?

Mr. Kipps, you said you have a son?

Yes.

Go home to him.

Cherish him. Love him.

I wouldn't be here if I didn't.

- Mr. Kipps.
- Mr. Daily.

- Glad you could make it.
- My pleasure.

I'm just bidding my son,
Nicholas, goodnight.

- My condolences, Mr. Daily.
- It was a long while ago.

There's a place ready in there
for my wife and me,

so we can all be together again one day.
Come.

I heard about the girl in the village.

Terrible. Are you all right?

Yes.

My wife doesn't know

and I'd be grateful
if you could avoid the subject.

Indeed, the subject of children
altogether, if at all possible.

He would have been about your age now.

Thank you, Archer.

There you are, dear.

Mr. Kipps, I've been
so looking forward to meeting you.

I'm sorry, I must look a bit of a mess.

I found myself without a room.

Well, then he must stay with us,
mustn't he, Samuel?

Indeed he must, my dear.

- Arthur.
- Thank you.

The twins won't be dining
with us tonight, Archer.

Samuel, I'm sure Mr. Kipps won't mind.

Not at all.

Emily!

Thank you.

There.

Now, say hello to Mr. Kipps.

Hello.

Thank you, Archer.

There.

You're married, Mr. Kipps?

No, don't gobble. That's rude.

- Any children?
- A son.

That's lovely.
You don't want to end up like us.

Wealthiest folk in the county
and no one to leave it to.

- Did he tell you about Nicholas?
- Elizabeth.

That's him.

I painted that myself.
I love to paint and sketch.

It's lovely.

Nicholas loved to sketch, too.

- He still does.
- Elizabeth, please.

He wants to draw you a picture.

Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, no!

Elizabeth!

Archer, the medication!

- No.
- Medication!

No, no.

I thought some company
would do her good.

Please, think nothing of it.

She's convinced it's our son
speaking through her.

You don't believe
in this spiritualism stuff, do you?

I didn't.

But since my wife passed away,
I don't know.

Forgive me. I didn't...

Sometimes I feel she's still with me.

Sometimes I just

feel she's there. In the room.

Trying to reach me.

Well, you must be careful, Arthur.

These charlatans
with all their talk about séances

and contacting the dead.

They prey on those most in need.

They do more harm than good.

I think the worst they do is disappoint.

I have to keep looking.

It's not natural to lose someone so young.

But if we open the door to superstition,
where does that lead?

It's just chasing shadows, Arthur.

When we die, we go up there.

We don't stay down here.

Come on. Come on. Lie down.

I'll lose my job
if I don't get this paperwork done.

If Jerome gives me some help,
I can go and meet my boy.

I doubt if Jerome
will be much help to you.

Stay, Spider.

Mr. Jerome?

Go away!

I'm not going to hurt you.

You killed Victoria Hardy.

Get away from me!

Go!

Go! Go!

- What the hell is going on?
- Complete nonsense.

Let's get you to the house.

You should have left.
You should have gone when we told you to.

John.

His little girl is dead.

You saw her.

You saw that woman at the house.

For God's sake, take him home.
This isn't helping him.

All your superstitious rubbish.

You think this is superstitious rubbish
that took your boy?

All right.

I'll take him to the station.

Pay no attention to them.
They're still living in the Dark Ages.

But I did see someone at the house.

Trust me, Arthur. It's just an old
place cut off from the world.

The sooner the house is sorted out and
sold, the sooner people can move on. Here.

This'll keep you going.

The late tide is due at 11:00.
I'll come back for you then.

It's fine.
I'd rather just work through the night.

Well, take the dog.

Come on, girl.

Just for company.

Don't go chasing shadows, Arthur.

Dear Alice,

you leave me no option
but to give up my son.

If you have your doctors

deem me mentally unfit to raise my child,
what can I do?

You and Charles can take him from me,
but he is mine,

mine, he can never be yours.

Jennet.

Dear Alice,

I find it hard to express the depth
of betrayal from you, my own sister,

at your refusal to let me visit my son

or even give him my birthday cards.

I begin to believe you're not doing this
for the good of the boy,

but to cause me pain.

He is mine.

If you won't let me see
him, I will find a way.

You didn't try to save him.

You just saved yourself.

You didn't even give him a proper burial.

You just left him there in the mud.

His blood is on your hands.

I will never forgive you.

Rot in hell.

He will never be yours.

Who's there?

You don't believe me, do you?

I believe even the most rational mind
can play tricks in the dark.

I saw them, Sam. I saw her and her boy.

No. The boy was lost to the marsh.

His body was never recovered.

I saw them.

Oh, my God!

No, don't...

Lucy!

Lucy!

Arthur!

- No! No!
- Arthur!

Arthur!

Stay there. I'm going to come and get you.

No!

Arthur?

Here.

I remember when
the Jeromes lost their first child.

They decided to have another. Lucy.

They locked her up to protect her.

- Not that you can ever replace...
- She was there, Sam.

You're tired.

Get some rest.

What happened to him, Mrs. Daily?

He was playing at the
beach with his friends

and they said the tide
must have caught them off guard.

You've seen her, haven't you?

She was there this morning in the fire.

She's always there.

You mustn't blame yourself.

- Blame myself for what?
- For not listening to the others.

For not staying away from the house.

What? I don't understand.

Whenever she's been seen,

on the causeway, on the marsh,
in the grounds of the house,

however briefly and whoever by,

there has always been
one sure and certain result.

Yes?

In some violent or dreadful circumstance,
a child has died.

So many... so many children.

So many children.

The Fishers' daughters
and Jeromes' eldest.

Keckwick's son, my Nicholas.

How?

Mrs. Daily?

Mrs. Daily?

She makes us... She makes us do it.

She makes us.

They took her boy away.

So now she takes us.

She saw you.

She saw you.

She's coming.

She's coming.

- Elizabeth!
- Sam!

- Sam!
- Elizabeth!

No, Elizabeth. No! No!

Elizabeth.

Joseph.

If we can get the telegram off now,

we can catch them
before they get on the train.

How could you take me to Eel Marsh?

If even a small part of you
feared the stories were true?

- But I never believed them.
- No, you didn't want to.

- There's a difference.
- I had no choice, Arthur.

Either Nicholas is in a better place

waiting for us to be reunited one day,
or he's lost.

Now which would you
have chosen to believe?

Forgive me, Sam, but my son is alive.
He's on his way here.

No.

The next village is over an hour away.

They'll have left by then.

What time is the tide back out?

5:00. Why?

If we can reunite Jennet Humf rye
with her son,

perhaps she'll finally be at peace.

They never recovered
the child's body, Arthur.

But you have something they never had.

Arthur?

Sam, I feel it. It's just beneath my feet.

Just give me a moment while I tie it.

Be careful.

Arthur?

Oh, my God.

Keep driving.

Don't stop!

The pedal's on the floor.

I've found the boy.

Can you go any farther?

The engine's overheating!

Come on.

Sam, please, it's sinking.

Hurry!

Here, here.

Let's just put him in the ground, Arthur.

Let's get it over with.

Sam,

there's something I need to do first.

They're lost.

They need to find each other.

Nearly time now.

Come on.

Nicholas?

Daddy?

Arthur!

Arthur.

I think she's gone.

Thank you.

I will never forgive you
for letting my boy die.

I will never forgive.

Never forgive.

Never forgive. Never forgive.

Never forgive. Never forgive.

One step, two step. Good boy.

- Joseph!
- Daddy!

Joseph, this is my friend, Sam.

- Hello, Sam.
- Hello, Joseph.

It's very nice to meet you.

Change of plans.
We're not staying here tonight.

We're going straight back to London.

Can you fetch us some tickets?
I'll explain on the way.

You're sure you don't want to rest up
before you go?

Yes, I just want to get him home.

I understand.

Three tickets back to London, please.

- Will you and Elizabeth be all right?
- We will.

Then you must come down to London
and visit us.

Elizabeth would love that.

Sam?

Daddy? Who's that lady?

That's your Mummy.