Original subtitles

All clear.

Mount pickets and keep a watch.

Bring hemp, wrap the officers.

Bury the rest...

over there.

That as Thou hast raised up my body from fast and sound sleep,

so also Thou would deliver my mind from the sleep of sin.

Did they change the prayers for middle sleep?

I'm praying for us.

Before first sleep, second sleep, morning, afternoon, and night again.

Don't you see that this plague is a sign?

- Mary... - God is sending you a message.

Look, it's not a plague.

It's maggots. They happen.

Perhaps it's the Lord's grace.

We can leave here and move in with your father at Whitehall

before winter comes.

Come here. Come here.

Look.

You see that?

We still have over half our crop

stored safe in the shed.

I'll haul it to the green tomorrow and sell it.

How much will that make?

It'll be enough to make it through the winter.

Then what about spring? We'll have nothing left to reseed the field.

We're not moving in with my father.

Did we wake you up, little man?

Come here, come here.

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

Here, I'll show you something.

What's in here? Huh?

Oh.

What's this?

Ooh.

Pirate treasure.

Pirate treasure.

Yeah, your pa's made arrangements.

Our little secret, though, eh, Sprout?

Abraham!

Luke! Jeremiah!

Oh, mercy!

Get back inside!

♪ Hush, hush ♪

♪ There's snakes in the garden ♪

♪ Soul for sale ♪

♪ Blood on the rise ♪

♪ Hush, hush ♪

- ♪ I can't wait anymore ♪ - ♪ Soul for sale ♪

♪ I can't wait anymore ♪

♪ Hush, hush ♪

Did anyone else see them?

No.

They wore masks of Guy Fawkes

like the ones the soldiers are making for their bonfire night.

Could've been soldiers, could've been anybody.

A royal officer gets his throat slit and the killer walks free,

and there are many in this town believe you got away with murder

because you are my son.

Look.

What is this?

You accused me of lying to you in your house

and you were right.

I wasn't robbed by rebels, as I told the major.

Instead, I cut my own scar,

I buried the silver by the shore, and I used the silk to sell my story.

Now, I did all those things...

but I did not kill Captain Joyce

nor any other man in my life,

and nor will I until God meets me for judgment.

This is the profit from your smuggling?

I undertook a risk

to take care of my farm and my family

on my own terms...

when I should have accepted your offer to help.

I knew in my heart you didn't do this.

That's why I kept your name from my list.

What list?

Major Hewlett will have justice for Captain Joyce.

He requested I make a list of the most likely and suspected individuals.

Well, now that we know that it's not me,

maybe the next rogue on your list

is the same bastard who fired my farm.

The next name on my list is Anna Strong.

Anna St...

Before you protest, acknowledge the facts.

Following the brawl with Joyce, her husband was imprisoned

and her estate made vulnerable,

and she's always been someone who acted without thought.

- Now may I protest? - No.

No.

Bring in Guy Fawkes.

Whoa.

Here's to defeat.

Everyone's speaking of the ambush in Connecticut.

Looks like your message got to Ben.

Captain Joyce.

He was quartered in your home, was he not?

Joyce, aye.

In the room Captain Simcoe took.

Won't have to worry about either of them now, do we?

You may have to worry about Joyce.

My father believes that you killed him.

And he plans to say so to Hewlett.

I need to look through the captain's belongings,

try and find something that can tell me about the man.

What?

I don't know exactly.

I mean, he obviously kept secrets.

Why else would he walk to Lewis Field

in the middle of the night to get his throat cut?

His trunk is in my home. I'll look through it.

For now, let's celebrate.

Captain Simcoe's gone to heaven and we did that.

More rum, please.

Can't get the ball out. At least with my knife.

Then let's toast to that.

He's awake now, ready to talk.

He's ready to die, yeah?

__

Hey, you didn't promise Abe this lobster would vanish, all right?

I did.

Look, there is a greater obligation here.

Someone has been whispering into the enemy's ear,

and the only ones that knew about the location of that safe house

were ranked well above me.

Yeah, and him.

You truly think that Captain Simcoe, last week Lieutenant,

is gonna know the name of a turncoat in our buff and blues?

Huh?

He's low on the chain, Ben.

Yeah, he may know enough.

We'll have a surgeon attend to his leg at camp.

I'd like a word with the captain now.

A word?

Do you suppose pain will rob me of reason?

Oh, I should hope not.

You should not hope.

It wastes your time and my rum, of which there is little left.

I'm afraid I...

Even given the tragic state of the Continental Army,

this is no way to detain a fellow officer,

which is how I know that after our "word,"

you mean to extinguish me.

You may as well do so now.

This rum tastes like piss.

__

Think they'll stop him in time?

It'll be more interesting if they don't.

What's the name of the dead man that told you I was here?

Funny you should ask.

I believe you misplaced one of those to an intrepid young dragoon.

Where?

I told you, a rebel safe house in Connecticut.

After you turned me down, I turned to another,

a warden of some backwater in Long Island who sent 20 men.

Apparently not the right men.

That bonnet was found with their corpses.

Perhaps your precious source in New Jersey

is having a laugh.

Sounds like your ambush was ambushed.

I intend to...

reexamine New Jersey.

I thought you might be interested in a trip to Connecticut,

seeing as the bonnet doth bellow for revenge.

What's the name of the backwater?

Oh, some little fish town you've probably never heard of called Setauket.

"My dearest captain,"

when last we were together under the stars,

I felt you were holding back your true feelings and most tender words.

There is so much I wish for myself to say,

but I thought better to wait until you spoke first.

Please forgive my forward nature,

but I must make my feelings known to you.

It is my great happiness that this war would bring us together

and my great agony that I cannot spend

"each day and every night in your embrace."

And so on like this for a while.

But let me get to the telling part.

She writes, she cannot wait for Joyce to sound retreat here.

"For even though it be end of day,

mine ears hear reveille in the rising sun."

"Sound retreat."

"Sound retreat."

That'll be their signal.

Like the petticoat I hanged for Caleb.

Yeah, it's clever 'cause Captain Joyce could have the regiment's drummer

sound any alarm he wished to test readiness, so sound retreat...

And, at the same time, signal to meet under the tree at Lewis Field.

Exactly.

Why do you suppose that trysts are always held under a tree?

It was good enough for Adam and Eve.

It was good enough for us.

Tell me, Philomena,

how did you come to be a player?

I admire you.

What skill.

Oh, I merely pretend at the heroics, sir.

You live them out.

Now I can say to my friends

that I was paid a compliment

by Major John Andre of the King's Army.

Tell me, how many men are under your command?

In a way, the whole theater of war falls under my concern.

I'm special adjutant

in charge of gathering intelligence, you see.

Oh?

I divine what the enemy plans to do before they do it.

General Howe applies his military strategy on the field

with the discipline and precision of a science,

but what I do...

is closer to an art.

Mm.

Now, if the prospect of a lone woman

overpowering a royal officer is too much,

I submit Mrs. Strong could've hired a cutthroat

from some nearby port to do the deed.

The matter of Captain Joyce's death will be addressed,

but my priority now is to secure this garrison.

This loss has made us vulnerable to attack.

- Sir? - Yes?

A Major Robert Rogers from New York to see you, sir.

Major?

That's a letter of introduction

from your friend, John Andre.

Ah, well, the famed Robert Rogers needs no introduction.

Welcome to Setauket, sir.

This man here is our local magistrate, Richard Woodhull.

- Major, it's an honor. - Thank you, Richard.

Now, you must be tired after your journey.

Perhaps you would just like to rest

or have a proper discussion over dinner.

Here about the business in Connecticut.

I should like to question your officers who ran the raid.

They are dead, sir.

Not all of them.

Captain Simcoe is still missing.

Then I should very much like to question him.

It says there that you're to give me what I require

so that I may find the chalker who left me that.

Yes, I did wonder why

a cap of the Queen's Rangers was found at the ambush.

It was left for me

by a young cavalryman

who felled one of my men.

And 19 of mine.

All by himself?

Obviously not.

How many of them was there, then?

Ah, you don't know

'cause you didn't count the tracks,

and you buried the bodies

that could tell us the tale,

except for them highborn lads

who paid for passage back to London Town.

Upon reflection, I do not believe I shall be able to host dinner tonight.

Please accept my apology.

You fancy that I wish to spend one more hour than necessary

in this clammy province?

I should like

to question your officers.

Here they are.

All pickled in rum.

- The barrels are sealed. - Not for long.

You said only three were recovered.

Who's the fourth?

That would be Captain Joyce.

Who in the hell's Captain Joyce?

He was a troubled officer.

He was found murdered in a field here last week.

I'm examining the situation very closely.

His death is not connected to theirs and should be no concern of yours.

Oh.

So you think it bad luck, then, his murder so close to theirs.

- I think a coincidence, yes. - "Coincidence"?

I've seen all manner of strange things in this life,

but never one of those.

Now, why don't you tell me all about troubled Captain Joyce?

Thank you, Captain Tallmadge.

Tallmadge?

That's one of the family names where I'm stationed.

You must hail from Setauket,

like your man here, mister, um...

Caleb Brewster, Your Grace.

I do apologize for my ill manners before.

It was my leg talking.

Again, the apology is all mine.

You had every right to doubt my intentions.

Now, then...

to business.

What is it you wish to know?

Oh, nothing, sir. We already know all we need to.

Truly?

You know where we mean to strike after retaking New York?

We know you have 4,000 men

stationed at Throgs Neck in Brooklyn

as part of your occupation force.

4,000?

Try six.

Well, it doesn't really matter how many.

You'll never catch Washington anyway.

Ah, yes, the old fox.

Well, it's not my duty to bag him.

I leave that to the brothers Howe.

Oh, of course, though I suppose General Howe

might be slowed a bit by the ash pile in the city.

Ashes dissolve in the sea.

Our navy is not only the mightiest on Earth, it is the fastest.

But where will it sail?

Well, I suppose it doesn't matter because you already know.

I'm sorry.

"Mock not nor jest at another man's misfortune

though there seem to be some cause."

No, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

It's my turn now.

Hey, hey, how much wood would a Woodhull haul

if a Woodhull could haul wood?

It's good to see you came down.

Thought you might not.

- Yeah? - Well, we all heard about your accident.

Oh, right.

That was no accident.

No, I just cooked up the rest of the cabbage that my maggots didn't want.

Well, you're loyal to your friends.

Glad to see you here.

Are you surprised as well?

Judge Woodhull, is this your son I've heard so much about?

Major Rogers, I don't believe I mentioned my son.

You didn't. Robert Rogers, Queen's Rangers.

Abraham Woodhull.

Why don't you fine gentlemen let me buy you a round

and we shall drink to friends and traitors alike tonight, eh?

To the enemies of our country,

may they have cobweb breeches,

a porcupine saddle,

a hard-trotting horse,

and an eternal journey.

So, then, what brings a legend of the frontier here to Long Island?

Ah, the Rangers go where needed.

Our quarry be those most dangerous to His Majesty's rule.

General Washington?

Ooh, we'll get him.

But I am now after a man

more deviant and difficult to track.

Hides not behind an army,

but a thicket of lies and deception.

So you've come here looking for a single man?

Perhaps.

Though like all good plots,

there's usually more than one involved.

Ask your warm friend, Guy Fawkes out there.

Though usually it's only one man who takes the credit

and the infamy.

Or immortality.

Oh, beautiful. 1605.

In commemoration of the 5th of November act,

Parliament issued, Amsterdam struck.

Passed to me for my services in the Seven Years' War.

- Mm. - Huh?

"He who concealed himself is detected."

Madam, will you drink with us?

- Actually, I have to... - Oh, no, no.

Please sit.

I was just telling these good gentlemen

what a fine, uncommon town you have here.

Uncommon?

Well, for such a tiny hamlet,

there's an unusual amount of smuggling, arson, and murder.

You're speaking now of Captain Joyce.

Aye, he's part of a riddle I'm trying to solve.

A captain lay dead in a field.

One week later, 20 of his men lay dead

in Connecticut with no enemy casualties

to save their honor.

How did this occur?

I suppose the answer to that lies in Connecticut.

The old fella brought me here.

- What old fellow? - Him.

Tells me there's something corrupt in this town.

- Something concealed. - I agree.

As you must have heard, I was suspected

of the captain's murder for a time.

Although I was cleared of all suspicion,

the accusation still vexed me greatly.

So I took it upon myself to look into the riddle of the man's death on my own.

- You what? - You've also likely heard

that the captain was billeted with Mrs. Strong.

And while she was cleaning his room,

she discovered a hidden letter addressed to Joyce.

Mrs. Strong, the letter?

The letter?

It is unsigned, but it seems to be

from a secret lover here in Setauket.

When did you find this letter, Mrs. Strong?

This morning, sir.

And why did you go to Mr. Woodhull?

Why not straight to Hewlett?

I...

I thought...

I thought, well...

That's all right.

I was in love once myself.

Unfortunately married at the time, eh?

Then you agree with me. That if Joyce was done in,

it was by the husband of the letter writer.

Let's ask Captain Joyce.

All right, let's get him out.

So, here is the gash

that did him in, across the gullet.

But here is another second stab,

more like a first, done with a short blade.

Means he turned his back on his killer.

Means he trusted him.

That's why I thought Captain Simcoe first, eh?

You think that...

you think that Captain Simcoe did this?

The only officer not found at the ambush,

and a man who inherited the captain's captaincy.

I thought him the serpent I seek

until I read your letter.

Then I knew it could be a woman

done with a paring knife or a letter opener.

And most likely we were just with her and have given her fair warning.

Now... now, wait. You didn't read the letter.

The letter she gave you.

She found it. It mentions a signal by drum.

- Sound retreat. - Yes, exactly.

And there are four other women by my count...

- Your count? What count? - Gentlemen...

By my count of those who work and live

close enough to hear the company drum.

Good, good. So there's four of them.

Now, which of those four

would Joyce likely dip his wick into?

Well, there's...

Hannah Ketcham, who's 74.

Or Loretta Brewster, who's plagued by palsy,

and that leaves only...

Maarten Dejong's wife, Klara...

And Anna Strong.

So there's two.

I think I have a way to settle this.

But it makes no sense to sound retreat at this hour.

The men will be confused, but the culprit will be alarmed.

- That's what I want. - Well, I won't allow it.

Captain Joyce had you play roll call on some days,

sound retreat on others.

Captain Joyce was the finest officer I ever served with.

But he made you play drums at odd hours.

To keep the men on their toes, he'd say. There was nothing improper.

Thank you, Clayton. This is foolish.

And after it's done, so is my work here.

You have my word.

Play.

Which one is Klara?

That one holding the lantern.

Well, it's not Klara.

Major, I wish you well on your travel back to New York.

You sure you can afford that?

I know it was you.

Meet me where you killed Joyce, midnight.

We can discuss where to go from there.

That's far enough.

What do you want, Woodhull? Money?

I've not enough to cover your blight.

All I want is for you to admit

that you killed Captain Joyce last Monday right here.

I thought you were gonna say you had some proof.

If I prove that this is your handwriting...

you'll be put to death for buggery, never mind murder.

Where did you get that?

He kept it hidden.

He protected you, John, and you killed him.

No, you killed him.

You... you and Selah Strong.

See, it was just like that.

I never even knew I drew it.

Then Selah started the fight in the tavern.

The fight that they blamed Charles for,

that he blamed me for.

It was the last night we were ever to meet.

And I knew his words, I knew his words.

What he said, he didn't mean it.

And when he turned, I just...

I didn't mean to.

Is that what happened?

You don't know what happened.

Yeah, you were just supposed to be a scapegoat, is all.

- That's all you are. - And so you burned my crop

to keep the people thinking that the town hated me.

That's why I wanted to burn it, yeah.

He actually thinks you did the deed.

What?

Who's he?

A loyal drummer.

I told him, "Woodhull got away with it."

Woodhull's father's got him free.

"Woodhull's laughing about it."

Woodhull! He just confessed to it!

Crash that cull!

- Crash it! - Wait, stop!

Hang on a second!

You didn't tell me there'd be two.

I-I-I didn't know. I didn't know.

P-please. Please, sir, have mercy.

Shut your hole.

- Shouldn't we... - Shh, something ain't right.

Don't look so pale, Molly.

We just caught Captain Joyce's killer.

What?

Must've resented playing it all odd hours.

Wait, you just... you just heard this man confess.

I heard all sorts of strange tales today.

Sounds that fade away...

tracks that lead nowhere.

And a smell.

Oh, there's something rotten in Setauket,

but it ain't you.

Oh, you're an aberration,

one that could be of use now that we know your shame.

I'll do anything.

I know. You'll keep your eyes open and your trap shut

and you'll look and you'll listen

and you will sniff out the rot in this place while I'm away.

See? I'm gonna keep you alive, Robeson,

as the lowest form of life there is.

Lower than a sodomite or a serpent's belly.

A spy.

My spy...

reporting only to me.

No Hewlett, no regulars.

Now, if you attempt to flee,

Mr. Woodhull here will notify me

- and I will find you. - No, Major.

- Mr. Woodhull. - Listen, wait.

I want your word as a gentleman

you'll keep our little secret

until we put Washington's head in a noose.

And then we'll put that little bugger's head in one.

I know it's detestable business, looking after a spy,

but it is a task that you

shall have to endure for the king.

Aye?

Come to! Come to!

I'm not done with you.

Now, you can make this stop.

But I hope you don't.

It must be its own torture to live like you do.

On the run.

So close to your home, and yet not able to set foot in it.

Except it isn't your town, is it?

It belongs to our king. By rights.

It's the arrogance of the colonies that you forget this.

That's why I joined the Royal Army.

To remind you...

in Guiana, the Caribbean...

...and now New York.

I've enjoyed reminding you all over the world.

I think we're done here, Ben.

No.

I'll do it.

- General, sir. - Move!

My God, it's true.

- Let him down. - Please, sir, allow me to explain.

I've come straight from Fort Lee upon hearing a disturbing report.

I will be returning there straight away.

You will return with me to face disciplinary charges

and most likely court-martial.

- Sir, please, I can explain... - Enough!

You shouldn't have used your own dragoons.

Sir.

I apologize for the treatment you have received

at the hands of a captain under my command.

You should know that we treat fellow officers

with respect, whether captive or not.

You can expect the proper courtesy to be afforded to you

from this moment forward.

Thank you, General.

Please don't go too hard on Captain Tallmadge.

He's been a perfect gentleman.

I wish you could stay.

Moi aussi.

Can you at least tell me where your next secret mission will take you

so I can dream of you there?

I've just completed my mission...

the recruitment of a young, talented agent

willing to apply said talents in service to the crown...

for the aim of ending this reckless war.

Tell me...

have you ever been to New Jersey?

I saw your signal to meet.

What is happening around here?

First, your father and Major Rogers tell me

I'm to report to the church in the morning,

and then I go, and Rogers and his Indian are riding out of town.

Well, he won't be back. Not for a while.

And now there's a rumor around

that the company drummer killed Captain Joyce.

- How does that make sense? - It doesn't.

Right, because then who wrote the letter?

All I know is...

that the person who wrote that letter was living two lives.

I've seen where that double life can lead.

It's straight to hell.

What have you seen?

I've seen that a signal can be detected

no matter how secret it is.

I don't want you hanging petticoats for Caleb Brewster anymore.

Abraham, don't be hasty.

Look what we've accomplished so far.

Captain Simcoe's body was not found in Connecticut.

Getting rid of him was the sole reason I risked talking to Caleb,

and now he may still be alive?

We have accomplished nothing.

And I won't risk you further.

It is too dangerous for us to meet

or even see each other.