All language subtitles for First Legion.En

Wonderful things, these new brakes.

And a lovely spring morning.

How are you, Father Fulton?

Well enough Monsignor.
It was all my fault.

I was in too much of a rush.
I missed my train last night.

You stayed over for a good
steak dinner, didn't you?

They don't feed you well
at your place, do they.

It was a concert. I meant to leave
before the last movement started but...

Mr Toscanini and Mr Beethoven digging
away at the discipline of a Jesuit, huh?

No. This time it was Edvard Grieg.
His piano concerto.

Was it? Well, I'm a man who
likes words with his music... songs.

That's what makes me merry.
Excuse me while I get my paper.

Father, aren't you the
man who gave up music?

Yes, I gave up my piano. Monsignor,
I wonder. I know it is out of your way.

Not a bit. Sure, step in. Step in.
─ Thank you, Monsignor.

Caesar... Caesar. Down!

Down. Nothing wrong in helping a Jesuit.

Smell this spring. You smell it?
Ah, the old bones.

Every one of them begins
remembering this time of year.

Pollen. Never could stand the stuff.

Monsignor, I'm rather late.

There should be a law
against classrooms in spring.

Oh, Father Keene!

Father Keene, I called Father
Fulton and he's not in his room.

Again?
─ Very well. I shall take his class.

That's the third time this month.
He's missed his train again.

I shall have to speak to him about
those concerts. Excuse me, Paul.

The Jesuits embrace
certain basic disciplines.

The disciplines of mind,
body, prayer, work.

Fifteen years of study and preparation.

As the church counts time,
we are a very young society.

We are only four hundred years old.

And yet in that time, fourteen Popes
have received Jesuit training.

And we have given to the
church twenty-four Saints.

And now if... ah...

Good morning Father Fulton. I was just
starting to give your lecture for you.

I'm sorry Father Keene.
─ Yes, I know.

You missed your train again.
We'll say no more about it.

For now...

He's not a good example for the students.

As Master of Novices I feel it
my duty to warn you of that.

With your permission, Father Rector...

I shall take it as my duty to ask Father
Fulton several, very pointed questions.

No, I think we'll leave
that to Father Arnoux.

What?
─ Why not?

Before he joined us, he was a
remarkably successful lawyer.

This is hardly a legal matter.

Nor is it legal to condemn a man
before hearing his defence.

Oh, Brother Clifford.
─ Yes, Father Rector.

Will you ask Father Arnoux
to stop by and see me please.

Yes Father, yes... a telegram.

Thank you... one moment.

As a matter of fact, Father Arnoux is
coming to see me in a few minutes.

Good.

I'm having my own difficulties with him.
─ Is it anything serious?

He persists in writing articles
that I do not approve of.

Nor do I like the magazines
that publish what he says.

Brother Clifford, have someone meet
Father Quarterman at the station.

Father Quarterman?

Yes, she's stopping off here
on his way to the Far East.

Father Quarterman will be an inspiration
to your novices, Father Stuart.

Good, Father Rector. I'm sure we can all
do with a little inspiration these days.

Now as regards Father Fulton...
─ And Father Arnoux. ─ Yes.

For four centuries, we have been
known as the militant Jesuits.

The First Legion of the Lord.

Don't you feel that it's rather soon for
us to begin turning our swords inwards?

I have a great deal of
faith in Father Fulton.

And I shall continue to place
my trust in Father Arnoux.

I'll see him in your office as soon
as you've had your talk with him.

Very well, Father Rector.

I do not enjoy mutilating another
man's work, Father Arnoux.

I've left as much as my
conscience will allow.

Anyway, I see you've left the title.

"The Jesuits In The Modern World."

What have we to do with
the world as it is today?

The time for isolationism is
past, Father... even in religion.

And may I ask, why did you take out this?

"Jesuits have no monopoly on faith."
What does it mean?

But surely, it is obvious. That we are
not the only people who believe in God.

Father Arnoux, why do you persist
in making things difficult for me?

Sorry if I seem to you...

Good afternoon, Father Rector.
─ Father Arnoux.

Marc... I'm worried about Father Fulton.

I have reason to believe that he
may be near the breaking point.

I don't believe...

I know that in the spring we always tell
the novices that it's just spring fever.

Sometimes it is... but this is different.

Father Fulton is no novice.

Spring fever has no
respect for rank or class.

Marc... Marc, will you speak to him?

Frankly, I would prefer not to.

You know... these are such
delicate matters... and besides.

Fulton is my friend.
─ All the more reason, then.

Friends know each other. Know
each other's desires, ambitions.

I hope you won't give this to me
as a command, Father Rector.

And do you know... I think I will.

I do.

Well, if you put it that way, of course
I have no choice but to obey.

Please, Father. Let me point out to you...

The particular glory of the society
is that it chooses to obey.

Oh, thank you Father.
Thank you for reminding me.

No, never mind. I'll write another.

There it is. Now Johnny... take it easy.

Come in.

Oh, hello Marc.
─ How about some handball this afternoon?

No, I don't think so.
─ Come on. A good workout after class.

That's right. When the flesh
is rebellious, slap it down.

I'm sorry Marc. Not for me, not today.

Well... on a day like this...

I get the feeling, that
either I let a lot of steam...

Or I'll pull the walls down,
right on top of me.

And a new Samson was hailed in the land.

But where, oh were, was Delilah?

By this time not too young,
and probably . very fat.

Thank you.

I don't think about her any more.
─ Oh, I do. ─ Oh...

Well, let's hear more.

Smile if you want to.
I suppose I broke her heart.

You know that still haunts me.
─ How old was she?

Not quite eighteen.
─ Well, she's forgotten it by now.

I hope so.

And yet I don't... isn't that strange?

No, perfectly normal.
─ Marc.

I'm tired of fighting devils real and
imaginary. I'd like to go home.

I mean the house where I came from.
The street where I used to play as a kid.

I'd like to be part of a real family again.

Well, you talk of leaving,
but what is it you're leaving?

You know, once a Priest, always a Priest.

I don't know, Marc.

All I know is I've got to stop somewhere.
I have to get away from this house.

I'll be regular about it. I'll write to
Father Provincial asking for my release.

But I'm not going to sit around waiting
for an answer. I'm leaving now. Tonight.

You know, Marc, it's pretty lonely
being a Soldier Of God all the time.

You too, Tom?
─ Yes, I'm like John.

I want a furlough. A long, long furlough.
─ I want to get out and stay out.

I'm dying in here while
the world passes me by.

It's not much of a world.

I'm not inclined to be
particular about it.

It's beautiful.
─ As you remember it.

The little part of the world that's
around you. Your childhood, your music.

And your faith in God.

But it is not like that.

Anyhow, wherever a man is
he has to live for something.

What is it you want to live for?
Your music?

If I can't find peace of soul
in this house, just as it is...

What chance would I have
of finding it in a piano?

You won't find much
peace outside, either.

The fact is, John.
It's a very difficult world.

It's ailing in every
joint and it has fever.

And it stinks like an
old-time sick-room.

Then, that's where we ought to be instead
of locked up here doing nothing about it.

Tom... if we manage to do
anything at all, it will be from here.

Well, Marc... as a lawyer, you must
have known the world pretty well.

Well, I was involved in
over fifty cases of murder.

So, you had an excellent reason for
coming here. For you it was an escape.

You wouldn't rebel.

No... well, I think Father Rector
has certain memories about me.

I was not always happy here.
─ Are you happy here now?

Come on, let's be very honest about it.
─ I can be very honest.

I could never find peace anywhere else.

Oh, I still rebel now and then.

Discipline can be hard.

And mind you... I don't pretend I love
every man in this house like a brother.

Every minute of the day.
─ No you don't.

But I belong here.

That might be alright for you, Marc.
But we don't belong.

That's not for me to answer.

Nor for you for that matter.

Belonging comes...

I don't know how.

You're reading or praying or sitting in
the window watching the rain come down.

Then suddenly you feel
at home... and at peace.

You belong.

And then, you can
begin to help the world.

And you can really help.

I know better than you what it needs.

Were you ever in the main ward of a
County Hospital on a Saturday night?

When they bring in the
beatings and the drunks.

All the people who try to kill
themselves and each other.

Because they have nothing to cling to.

No faith, no love, no roots, no altar.

Those are the things
you ought to bring them.

Can you?

Are you ready?

John... where is your own faith?

Where?

[ bell ]

There is the bell for class.

Marc.

Did Father Rector send
you here to talk to me?

Why yes. He did ask me to look in on you.

Follow these instructions
for now Brother Mayer.

Yes, doctor. Thank you.

Blessed Joseph.

Blessed Joseph.

Morrell... Peter Morrell.

Hello Father... small world isn't it?

How is Father Sierra?
─ The poor chap is running a high fever.

He's talking about Blessed Joseph
all the time. Who would that be?

Blessed Joseph Martin,
the founder of this house.

A Jesuit Bishop.
─ One of the few. ─ I see.

I can't believe my eyes. The last
time I saw you was... let me see...

Fordham College.
I was one of your students.

Of course... yes. Yes, I remember.

You will also remember
that I was thrown out.

Quite a row, wasn't it.

It just doesn't pay to call
the Dean a pious hypocrite.

No, it doesn't. Although I still think
they should have let you graduate.

Thanks. Perhaps it was all for the best.

Fordham's loss was Harvard's gain.
─ Well.

And what is a Harvard man
doing in this little town?

Born here.

I came back here when I got tired
of the rest of the world and...

First thing I know I've inherited a few
Jesuits along with Dr Morton's practice.

Quite a joke, isn't it.
─ No joke to Father Sierra.

Tell me... is his condition alarming?

Yes, quite. There is some congestion
of the lung. Pneumonia maybe.

Three years on your back as a paralytic
may be good for the soul but...

It's poor preparation for the kind
of fight his body is up against now.

The whole case is rather puzzling.
─ Puzzling?

I was just thinking. If he had as much
faith in his legs as he has in...

The Blessed Joseph, he might
not need a doctor at all.

Is Father Rector free?

Is Father Rector free?
─ Sorry, doctor.

Father Rector is with Father Quarterman.

He said not to put any calls through.
─ How do you like that?

What do I do to get to see him
about one of his own men?

Get an appointment a week in advance?

Look, Father.
─ Brother.

What?
─ "Brother" not "Father".

Okay. Brother.

I'm just as busy as Father Rector.
─ Oh, really.

So please tell him if he wants a report
on the patient, he can call my office.

Or speak to me when I come back this
evening to look in on Father Sierra.

So long, Father.
─ Rather impatient.

He's just reminding
himself he doesn't like us.

No, Edward, not a word. I know you're
tired. You've come here for a rest.

Ah Marc, you are just in time.
Father Quarterman.

Father Arnoux.
─ Father, this is a great honour.

The pleasure is mine.
I've admired your articles for years.

I only write about things.
You go out and do them.

All over the world.

It is like suddenly meeting Marco Polo
and realizing he's not just a legend.

There Edward, what did I tell you?
You'll have the whole house at your feet.

Now, you go along now, and Brother
Clifford will show you to your room.

Be sure to be at your best tonight.

Father Quarterman will have interesting
things to tell us about India.

Well, good day to you, Father.
─ Good day, Father.

Come in Marc... did you have a
chance to speak with Father Fulton?

Yes I did. The situation is
worse than I thought.

When are you leaving?
─ Tonight. As soon as I can.

I don't want to make a scene about it.

I'll leave a letter of resignation
in Father Rector's office.

That's all there is to it.

Maybe this is goodbye... for a while.

Where is John?

John.

We missed you in Chapel.

Let's get together afterwards.
And really talk this through.

Marc, there's nothing more to talk about.

Nothing.

Is he conscious?
─ From time to time.

He mentions your name.

Good evening, Doctor.
─ Good evening.

How is he?
─ Still delirious.

Is there any change in his condition?

If the fever breaks tonight,
we'll be alright... if not...

He was one of my professors when I first
came here as a novice. I've always...

Felt very close to him.
─ I know.

Is there anything one can do to help?
─ No, we're doing everything possible.

I'll sit up the next few
hours with Father Sierra.

You can take the last shift, Brother.

Thank you, Doctor. I do want
to hear Father Quarterman.

Goodbye José.

God be with you.

John...

John...

Ah, my militant friends.
Good evening, good evening.

Well, well. Monsignor,
what can we do for you?

Father Rector said Father Quarterman will
be showing some pictures about India.

Oh, Father Rector invited you here?

And I've never been to India,
and not to a good movie since...

Lassie Meets Frankenstein.

Well, there's always something
interesting going on with the Jesuits.

Monsignor, good evening.

Oh, Father Quarterman.
─ Bobby.

Permit me: Monsignor Carey.
An old friend of Father Rector's.

And this is... Caesar.

Now, Caesar, really...
─ Good dog, good dog. Come on, doggy.

I'm sorry.
─ Oh, never mind, never mind.

Monsignor.
─ I'm so happy to meet you, your grace.

No, no. Not "your grace".
─ No?

Now that I'm back from the foreign
missions, I'm no longer a bishop.

Just a Jesuit.
Nothing more, nothing less.

Well, take your coat off Monsignor.
Make yourself comfortable.

We are used to taking things easy around
the community room. ─ Thank you.

Now, sit down Monsignor.
─ Here is your beast, Monsignor.

Thank you Bobby, kindly. Thank you.

How are you Monsignor? You're the
cheeriest thing I've seen in weeks.

I'm quite well, but then I always am.

Tell me Bobby, how goes everything with
the shock-troops of Heaven this evening?

I detest being called "Bobby".

And if you don't like us, Monsignor,
why do you keep calling on us?

We all have our weaknesses.

Mine is the fondness of the
foot-soldier for the general staff.

It must be that I like to be seen in
the company of the brass-hats.

Brass-hats. Nonsense...

But you are miles away from the real
fighting most of the time, aren't you?

What do you know for
instance, about living?

Or about dying?

I saw a man die tonight.

And this morning... I saw a baby born.

Did any of you ever see a baby born?

Let me commend it to your attention.
─ We are not a nursing order.

Would that be so bad?

I tell you my friends, the world is sick
and someone ought to attend to it.

People are worried. They're frightened.

Ah, Father Rector.

How are you, Monsignor?

Sit down. Don't disturb yourself.
─ Thank you, Father Rector.

Ah Caesar old man, how are you old boy?

How is Father Sierra tonight?
─ I'm worried.

His fever is higher and he
has considerable delirium.

We were wise to anoint him.

Don't you think one of
us should be with him?

No. The doctor thinks it
better for him to see no-one.

He'll let us know if there is any change.

Well now... are we ready for the films?
─ Just about, I think.

Well now, let's have them.

Get the light, Brother.

In India... I found
that in some respects.

The Saints of our church and the
Indian holy men are not so far apart.

They lead the simple life and
have similar ways with people.

They capture the soul by
capturing the imagination.

Most of what happens in
the East... seems incredible.

Sometimes it makes you wonder
what there is in hypnotic suggestion.

Out there you begin to believe
that you have this power yourself.

To the natives...

The presence of Our Lord and his blessed
brother and all the Saints in Heaven.

Is a real thing...

Paul... look...

Father Sierra.
─ It's impossible.

Father Sierra.

John... where is John?

John.

John... where are you?
─ José... here I am.

I came as soon as I could, John.
Are you in trouble?

José... you came down for me?

I heard you say goodbye. And a voice
was telling me to get up and suddenly...

I saw that I could walk.
─ This is wonderful, José.

It was a miracle.

Now I know the meaning of those words.

I am the resurrection and the life.

He that believeth, I believe.
─ Your blessing, José.

Benedictione... Dei Omnipotentis.

Patris, Et Filii, Et Spiritus Sancti.

Descendit Super Nos, Adventiat Semper.

Amen.

You were lost, and I found you.

I wasn't lost...
─ Lost in a great forest.

And a voice kept saying: "go to John".
─ You mean... you had a vision?

I spoke with Blessed Joseph.
I put my hand in his.

And he brought me straight to John.
─ José, this is great joy for all of us.

It's a miracle... a great miracle.

Just what did happen?

All I know, he was running a high fever.
And when the fever broke he was walking.

Did you give him anything?
─ Nothing.

How do you explain it?
─ I can't.

You mean... this is what
we would call... a miracle?

You know it's a word we
don't use lightly here.

I'm not using it lightly. I'm not
using it at all. Excuse me, Father.

Father Sierra, I want you back in bed.
─ Oh, please, doctor...

Please let me say one
little prayer in Chapel.

Just one little prayer
of joy and thanksgiving.

The Fathers will say it for you, José.

Father, will you give
me a hand with him?

That man has been in bed for three years.
I know he couldn't walk.

What do you think of it, Father?
─ I don't know, Monsignor.

Who are we to say for sure?
Yet we saw it happen.

A great and strange event.

Very great and very strange.

Well, people will be saying...

Those Jesuit rascals are
dealing in black-magic again.

Fortunately, our reputation
doesn't depend on magic.

Well Monsignor, let us
join the Fathers in Chapel.

John... shall we go to Chapel now?

What does it all mean, Marc?

Why did a miracle happen to Father Sierra
just as I was getting ready to leave?

It was a miracle, wasn't it?

What difference does it
make what we call it?

All that matters is that
Father Sierra has recovered.

And that you feel differently
about a lot of things.

I'd like to pray now if I could, but...

Suddenly, I don't know how any more.
The words... won't come.

Well, maybe you're not
meant to do it with words.

Maybe there is a
better way for you, John.

One dollar. One dollar for this
little girl. Thank you. One dollar it is.

Well, Paul, it looks as if the Jesuits
are popular once more, doesn't it.

Anyone suspected of having the ear
of God is popular these days, Edward.

If the world comes back to us,
inspired by a great miracle...

Shall we shut the door
in the world's face?

This is the final proof which you need
for the cause of Blessed Joseph.

For which you have worked most of
your life. To have him declared a Saint.

Yes... this would mean a
great deal to me, Edward.

Yes, it's sign... a sign of
God's goodness to this house.

You don't need a doctor anymore, Father.
─ Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much.

Not at all. Bye-bye and
take care of yourself.

Doctor Morrell.

Hello, Father.
─ I'll walk to the door with you.

I've been wanting to ask you a
few questions about Father Sierra.

Well, he's doing fine.

Forgive me, doctor, but...

Why do you keep on implying to
the Fathers that this was a miracle?

When you don't believe
in anything yourself.

I have no explanation for what happened.

If you people accept it is a
miracle, alright. Make the most of it.

I'm not particular about the label.
─ But I am.

What are you complaining about? You have
people coming from across the country.

We happen to have a
responsibility to the people.

Sorry, Father. I'm due at the hospital.
─ One more question, if I may.

Would it be possible for me to
see the records on Father Sierra?

What records?

Well, Dr Morton must
have had a file on him.

I haven't had a chance to go
through his records yet.

Could I have a look at that file?

I'll make a note of it.

Good morning, Father.
─ Good morning.

Hold it! This one is for page one.

Terry... what are you doing here?
─ Why, Peter Morrell.

I want you to go back to town
right away, you understand?

No, I certainly don't.
─ How did you get here?

With the boys who drive this truck.
Joe and Tom. This is Joe.

Meet Doctor Morrell, Joe.
─ Hi.

Everybody in town is coming along.
So I just came too.

Did you ever see such a crowd?

They say it's started to happen again.

And I thought if it can happen to folks
besides Father Sierra, who knows?

It might even happen to me.
Don't you think it might, Peter?

Well... here we go.

Now stop this, Terry.

You want me to push you to the gate?
─ Terry, I don't want you to do this.

What's the trouble?
─ Look!

Look Joe, this is no place for Terry.
Can't you take her back to town now?

Sorry, Doc. Got to have that
furniture delivered by 5 p.m.

Newly-weds. You know,
kind of anxious to get their stuff.

I'll pick Terry up on the way back.
─ Never mind.

I'll take her back in my car.
─ But I don't want to go back!

I don't want to go back.

Doctor Morrell... good to see
you again... anything the matter?

No. Just giving Terry
a lift home. That's all.

Peter is angry with me because
Joe took me up to St Gregory's.

Oh, and she never told me a word.

Well, Miss Terry, with your permission
I'm going to have a little talk with Joe.

He takes her to all kinds of places.

You don't have my permission,
and I want him to take me places.

How else would I ever see anything?

I never dreamt that this
town would be so crowded.

People are streaming
here from everywhere.

Our home is about the only one that
hasn't been turned into a rooming-house.

Well, that's a wonderful idea.

Why can't we be a rooming-house?

Oh, Miss Terry...
─ But then I could talk to the pilgrims.

Pilgrims? A bunch of sensation seekers
chasing a fire-engine. They're everywhere.

Floods, tornadoes, murder trials.

You don't seriously think any
one of them really believes...?

Why not? Doesn't everyone
believe in God?

Not everyone.
─ They only think they don't.

I guess people get mixed up
because there are so many religions.

If you ask me, there ought
to be only one faith.

Who is going to select which one?

Look. Now my grandfather was a
Baptist and he married a Catholic.

When they couldn't agree on faith, they
sent my father to an Episcopalian school.

Then, when he met my mother,
well, she was a Lutheran.

And on Sundays they'd all
go to different churches.

And we little ones, would listen
one week to the Lutheran pastor...

And the next week to the Episcopalian.

How about some tea?
─ No dear. No tea, thank you.

But for you, Miss Terry?
─ Yeah.

Funny old Henrietta.

Every time mother is away, she
gets very possessive and talkative.

But she's still the best cook in town.
─ Just where is your dashing mother?

Why, she's in the city today.
Getting ready for another trip to Europe.

Magazine stuff. Paris in the spring.
All expenses paid.

Well, you Gilmartins sure get around.

They're flying from New York next Monday.
─ Say, that's alright.

Oh, Peter.

Why does everything have
to happen all at once?

Now hold on.

If you mean St Gregory's, I want you to
promise me not to go back there again.

Why?

It is a miracle, isn't it?
It says so in all the papers.

Now look, Terry... every time a miracle
happens someone gets hurt.

Hurt?
─ It doesn't always work for everyone.

I just don't want to see you hurt.

Not you.

Understand?

Yes, perhaps I do.

That sounds better.

You know... it's nice
to be back here again.

To find everything the same.
Just as it was in the old days.

It isn't the same, Peter.
It can't ever be the same.

Take it easy. Everyone says you
made a wonderful adjustment.

Oh, sure I made a wonderful adjustment.

But I've never given up
hoping that someday...

Terry, this isn't like you.

Oh, I know what's the matter, Peter.

You'll be the last one
to believe in a miracle.

But after all, it just stands to reason
that there must be something, somewhere.

That holds the world together.

And it fixes up pains
when no one else can.

I'm sorry angel, but...

That's a little out of my field.
See you tomorrow?

Tomorrow.

[ church bells ]

[ church bells ]

Hello Doctor.
─ Hello Monsignor. Come on in.

Can you spare a blessing
for a pious pilgrim?

Come on in. Don't talk
to me about pilgrims.

If this keeps up we'll have
to build a whole new town.

They're already talking about that
down at the chamber of commerce.

No. I'll stick to my pipe.

I hope the people go back home. We don't
have the hospitals to care for them here.

The doctors, neither. There is nothing
we can do for them... nothing.

My boy... they don't want
you to do anything at all.

They're looking to the Blessed Joseph.

A lot he'll do for them.

By the way, you... you
know Terry Gilmartin?

Yes, I know Terry.
In fact, I'm her Latin tutor.

A wonderful girl.
─ Yes. Wonderful parents, too.

I was with her father the day he died.

I was with Terry the day she
was thrown from the horse.

For a while, the whole world
just came to a stop for her.

And then she began to make the
kind of recovery doctors dream of.

She began to build a whole
new life for herself.

Now she's just like all
the rest of these people.

Dreaming and hoping for the impossible.

You mean, she's never
going to be any better?

There's nothing to hope for?
─ Nothing.

A complete break in the spinal cord.

She'll never walk again. Now you
see what I mean, Monsignor.

What are we going to do with people
like Terry? Who get their hopes so high?

They're going to be worse
off than they were before.

You're trying too hard.
Trying to do too much.

Alright, I'm out of joint just
like the rest of the world.

Nothing adds up to anything anymore.

Peter.
─ Yes?

What happened to you while you were away?
─ Oh, I don't know.

I guess I was just like
a thousand other kids.

I had a lot of big plans and somehow...

Nothing every came of them.

Here I am at 35, back in this town.
Not because I believe in it but...

Because there is nowhere else to go.

Nothing else to hang on to.

As a boy, you had on you
the mark of my hand...

When I caught you stealing
apples from my orchard.

Didn't you?
─ That was a heavy hand.

There is a heavier hand
over you now... Peter.

Well... drop in and see
me once in a while.

Even if you don't come to church.

And oh yes. If you're
running short of beds...

I can put up a few cases
for you in the Rectory.

Thanks Monsignor. Thanks a lot.

José... are you sure you got out of
bed all by yourself? ─ Yes.

I mean... Doctor Morrell did
not help you? ─ No.

But he was in the room.
─ Marc.

I was looking at Blessed Joseph.
─ Of course. See, I'm only trying to...

Reconstruct exactly what happened.

But you know what happened.
I walked... I can still walk.

Let me show you.
─ No, no, no. Not now.

Now José... you are a priest of God,
but also a man of science.

Don't you think you could possibly have
imagined this? While you were delirious?

Yes, I thought of all that.

But it's really very simple.

Because, if it was not a miracle.

I could not have walked.

Of course.

Hello John.
─ Hello Marc.

Isn't it wonderful?
─ I never liked crowds.

Come on, Marc. Don't always be
so rational about everything.

I know it will make a big
change in our way of life.

But perhaps we needed
a big change... all of us.

Listen to the murmur of that crowd.

It's like the hum of a great orchestra
just before the start of a concert.

And like music that
swept you off your feet.

Father... oh Father, bless me.

Bless me.

Father...

Thanks.

How is the boy, Doctor?
─ The poor kid didn't have a chance.

Is he?

Of course. The trip alone
was enough to kill him.

I only tried a million-to-one shot.
Alright Miss Hamilton.

You're elected... break
the news to his mother.

Shall I send her in here?

I suppose so. Technicalities and stuff.

Oh, do you want to see a Father Arnoux?

Is he waiting?
─ Since you went into surgery.

Okay... hold it.

First, get me the file on Father Sierra.

It's here.

Alright. Thank you.

Please step in, Father.
─ Thank you.

Hello, Father.
─ Hello, Doctor.

You have a very busy hospital.
─ Most haven't got a cent. Sit down.

They go up the hill to
be cured by your people...

And then they need medical attention
and we get them... cigarette?

You look a little tattered.
Did you get caught in the crowd?

More like a cattle stampede.

Yes. The rich, the hurt,
the lame, the blind... the poor

And all because someone
started to cry "miracle".

Half of them would have come just as
quickly if somebody had shouted "gold".

Humanity I love, but crowds...

Well now... may I please see
the records on Father Sierra?

Records? Oh yes... yes, of course.

They're around here somewhere.
Here we are.

Thank you.

Nothing much there. Just a record of
visits made. A few medicines ordered.

Is that all?
─ That's all.

No X-Rays?
─ I guess there were none.

Neuro-circulatory asthenia.
─ Yes.

Something like "shell-shock" isn't it?

Well, that depends.

And medicine you think,
cannot account for his cure?

Look, Father... human beings are just
so many wonderful machines.

Sometimes you can fix them.
Sometimes you cannot.

I see... and you couldn't...

Fix Father Sierra.

What is this? Cross examination?

Not at all. But you haven't
answered my question.

Excuse me, Doctor... but Mrs Dunne...
─ Ah.

Her son just died a couple of
minutes ago. Sure, send her in.

One of the "pilgrims"?
─ Uhuh.

Please sit down. There are several
papers to be filled out, Mrs Dunne.

Please don't mind. They
won't need much time.

First, I want to tell you about your son.
He had no pain when he died.

Father... why is my boy dead?
Why? Explain to me why.

Mrs Dunne, please...
─ They said there was a miracle here.

They said all I had to do was to come
here and my baby would be alright.

Please Mrs...
─ I came, and look at me.

I converted my insurance policy. I sold
everything I had. I'd have sold my flesh.

What did I have other
than the life of my baby?

Can you explain to me why he is dead?

Mrs Dunne...
─ Why?

Miss Hamilton.
─ No.

No, I don't want... I want...
─ Now, now Mrs Dunne.

Where is he? I haven't seen him yet.

May I go with you?
─ Thank you.

I want to see my boy.

I wish I could have
done more for the boy.

He would have died anyhow,
but not so soon.

He couldn't stand the excitement.
─ You mean he died of too much miracle?

I'll be going. I am sorry
I have taken your time.

Not at all... not at all.

Good morning, Miss Hamilton.
─ Good morning, Doctor.

The State Medical Association called up.

They want to arrange
an appointment with you.

Tell them tomorrow. No, make
it the day after tomorrow.

Some of the doctors have
come from out of town.

What do they want?
─ Well, I'm not sure they know.

No two of them seem to agree on
anything. But they'd like to talk to you.

Fine. Always glad to talk to doctors
who can't agree on miracles.

Make it this afternoon.

[ phone rings ]

Doctor Morrell speaking... who?

Mrs Gilmartin? Of course, put her on.

And how are you?

When did you get back?

Yes.

What's that?

I wouldn't have called you
at the hospital, Peter.

But Terry is running a high temperature.

Yes... 103 to 104...

Alright Nora, don't worry.
I'll be right over.

Yup...

Can I come in?

Oh hello, Peter.
─ Hi, Nora.

I don't know what to think.
She seemed fine yesterday.

We were packing for this trip and all of
a sudden, she began to run a temperature.

It's been rising ever since.

Oh, she was so excited about the trip.

Do you think that is what it is, Peter?
The excitement?

Never a moment of peace.

You go right on in, Peter. I'll be with
you in a few moments. ─ Alright.

Hello? Oh, hello Alice.
I've been so worried.

Terry is sick and I don't know what...

Hello, angel.

Your mother tells me
you are not feeling well.

Taking your own temperature, huh?

Uhuh.
─ Thank you.

Do you mind?

Say, all these yours?

Uhuh.

Not bad... dancing girls and everything.

You've come a long way. A lot
better than the last time I was here.

"107"... you know you're
a lucky young woman.

With a temperature like that you
should have been dead hours ago.

Oh, Peter...

I feel awful.

Just awful.
─ I know.

But you'd feel better if you'd really
put this over on me, wouldn't you.

Tell me, what did you use?

A hot-water bottle.
─ Peter, you beast.

You knew all the time.
─ Of course.

When I was a boy we used to use the
radiator to get a really high temperature.

Only trouble was, we sometimes
burned our tongues.

Oh Peter, look.

I love mother and I wouldn't
hurt her for anything.

If you're a good sport you won't
tell how I tried to fool her, will you?

Why shouldn't I?

Because...

I don't want to go to Europe.

I want to stay right here.

Now don't be silly. You're
not making sense, Terry.

I don't want to make sense.

I want the impossible to happen
just once in my life, Peter.

You mustn't say that, Terry.
You mustn't even think of it.

I know.

Be a good girl, Terry.

Be a brave girl, Terry.

Keep on drawing pictures of
all the things you can never do...

Well, Peter?
It's alright Nora, just a sudden flare-up.

I think the fever will go down
about as suddenly as it went up.

Thanks, Peter... I've been so worried.

Tell me, how soon are
you leaving for Europe?

The day after tomorrow.

Well, I think you can still
make that trip if you like.

In fact, I would strongly recommend it.

What Terry needs is a good
change of climate... at once.

But her fever?
─ Don't worry about her fever. Here...

Just see that she gets a few of
these, and take a few yourself.

Just relax.
─ Thanks, Peter.

Well... have a nice trip.
─ Thank you, Peter.

Thank you for everything.

Thank you.

Of course, we can't anticipate
the decision of the church.

But is there a reason the pilgrims can't
be allowed to say prayers in our Chapel?

If, of course, they don't disturb the
regular schedules of our novices.

Father Rector, photographers want to take
some pictures of Father Sierra's room.

No, that's quite impossible.

Father, there are times when pictures
are more moving than rosaries.

No... and tell them that is final.

We've been quite liberal with the
press and they must be content.

Content? Press?

It seems to me that when a tide is
moving there is only one thing to do.

We should move with it.

Father, there are sixteen new
applications for the novitiate.

Sixteen young men who wish to
follow in the steps of Blessed Joseph.

Who wish to follow and...

[ phone rings ]

Paul!

Yes?... No...

No, no photographs within the walls.

Paul, what is it?

Oh nothing, just a little dizziness.

You've been driving yourself too hard.

Why don't we hear from his excellency?

Every day brings us new evidence that
Blessed Joseph was truly a Saint of God.

Hardly evidence.
─ Why do you fight this, Marc?

Why must your whole life be
one of unending questioning?

You've been stalking this thing like a...

Well, like a criminal lawyer.

Marc, what proof do you want?

We have the word of the doctor himself.

The word of a man who
believes in nothing.

All the more convincing, then.

If he can't explain it away,
it must be a miracle.

Peter.
─ Hello Monsignor.

Come in, come in.

Caesar! Quiet, Caesar.

Caesar!

Caesar, I'll give you to the Jesuits.

The final and most terrifying threat.
Well again, how are you, Peter?

Like the town. Nervous, rushed and
bothered. I'll tell you why I'm here.

You said the other day if we ran out of
bed-space at the hospital you'd help out.

And I haven't forgotten.
What space do you need?

What's the matter?

What goes on here?
─ This is her Latin lesson.

She's supposed to be on her way to
Europe. I said goodbye to her yesterday.

Now, everything will
work out for the best.

Come in. See for yourself.

Hello, Peter.
─ Hello.

I thought you'd be on
your way to Paris by now.

So did I.

But here I am, still following the
Roman legions around Gaul.

Come along Terry. Come clean.
What happened?

Alright, Peter.

This trip to Europe did mean a
lot to me, and to mother too.

But there was something else here
that meant a great deal more.

You know what, don't you?
─ I think I do.

Yes. Terry didn't want to go away because
she didn't want to miss graduation.

Oh, graduation?
─ Yes, didn't you know?

She's graduating in June.
Top of her class.

I'm very proud of her.

So at the last minute I
said to her mother, now...

You do what you want to do.

And I said to Terry: you
do you want to do.

And that settled everything fine.
─ It sure did.

Well... I'll consult with
the tyrant in the kitchen.

We should be able to make room
for at least five of your patients.

I didn't want you to do this, Terry.

I know you told mother to take me
away because you think I'm... incurable.

That's what every doctor has said.

I know no doctor and no
miracle can help me.

That's what you think, isn't it?
─ Terry, be reasonable.

I'm tired of being reasonable.

Tired.

There comes a time in everyone's
life when it's all or nothing.

That's the way it is with me now.

Either I throw this
chair away for keeps...

Honey, please.
─ But there's nothing more to live for.

Nothing.

Five blessings to you. I'll tell him.

Five people, Peter.
We'll take five she said.

But she won't shave the men's
whiskers... well, I'll do that.

Thanks.

I'll be running back now,
Monsignor. Thanks again.

Bye, Terry.

Goodbye.

Is there anything more I can do?

No... no, you've fixed
everything up fine.

Just fine.

[ buzzer ]

Alright, alright. I'm coming.

I'm sorry to bother you at this hour,
Brother, but I must see Father Arnoux.

Father Arnoux is busy right now.
─ Very well then. I'll wait.

He's in Chapel. Hearing the
confessions of the novices.

Oh. I see.

Of course... you can wait in the
community room if you like.

That's alright. I know the way.

Father Arnoux.

It is I, Doctor Morrell.

Doctor?

What are you doing here?
─ I had to see you.

Well... I'm finished now, anyway.

I'll see you in the community room.
─ No... no.

This is alright. I want to talk
to you and it has to be alone.

You want to go to confession?

No... no, I don't.

Well, what is it?

It's about a girl who
lives in the town here.

She thinks she's going to walk just
because Father Sierra was able to walk.

But... it's an incurable case.

I can hold her off for a while
but I can't hold her off forever.

It's hard to explain since
you don't know her.

Doctor, I'm not sure I understand.

Surely, you're not responsible?
─ I am responsible.

For every one of these pilgrims that
come here looking for a miracle.

Now, now Doctor. Control yourself.

What is it you are trying to tell me?

I'm trying to tell you that
you were right, to be suspicious.

Suspicious? Of what?

There is nothing to this
miracle. It is just a hoax.

A fraud, a thing I dreamed up myself.

Doctor... this can't be true.

Oh, I didn't mean any harm.
─ But...

At first, I only wanted
to help Father Sierra.

But after all, he...

He did walk and he... he did
have some kind of a vision.

A vision in which he spoke
with Blessed Joseph.

Father Sierra, didn't talk with
Blessed Joseph. He talked with me.

With you?

Yes, it was I that told
him to get up and walk.

I felt at the start it was
a nervous condition.

I gave him an injection and
his imagination did the rest.

But how?

I always wondered about
the power of suggestion.

And here was the chance to test it.

Besides, it was fun.

Fun?
─ Yes. A crazy kind of fun.

Watching you Jesuits scurry around
like so many black-robed dancers.

Getting worked up about nothing. Giving
statements, building up a Jesuit centre.

And all because of a
miracle that wasn't a miracle.

This is blasphemy!
─ What's the use of debating it?

It's done.

Now you want to know...

How to undo it?

Yes. Because there was
one thing I didn't count on.

I never realised what it was
going to do to other people.

People like Terry.

She wants this miracle so much
she'll die if she doesn't get it.

What are you going to do?

What can I do?

You are going to tell the truth.
─ To whom?

To everyone concerned.
─ Not to Terry.

Yes. To the whole world if necessary.

Come. I'll go with you to Father Rector.
─ Now hold on, Father.

I'm not going to tell the truth
to anyone and neither are you.

What you hear in confession
is secret, isn't it?

Why yes... but you are
not making a confession.

You said yourself...
─ Alright then.

I'm making a confession now. I'm
putting you under the seal of confession.

You can't do a thing like that. You mustn't.

There are others involved. You haven't...

You have no right... you are making
me an accomplice to blasphemy.

I can't help that. I'm binding you not to
breathe a word of this to a living soul.

The truth is bound to come out, sooner
or later. There will be other doctors.

They'll never agree with each
other. They don't agree now.

Well, they will want to see
the records on Father Sierra.

Just after I talk to you at the hospital.

I cannot even...

Curse you as I should... Morrell.

God help you.

And God help me.

Oh God most merciful.

Grant this man the
grace to see the truth.

And the courage to speak it.

Don't let this mockery continue.

Show us the way, oh Lord.

Or we are lost.

Fathers, this is a historic
day for St Gregory's.

The cause of Blessed Joseph
is moving forward at last.

The Archbishop has granted our petition.

Permission will be named
to take testimony at once.

Congratulations, Father Duquesne.
Congratulations.

But tell me... what was the Archbishop's
own personal feeling in the matter?

He doesn't say yes,
and he doesn't say no.

He gives us a free hand,
and that's all I need.

Well, now. Are there any questions?
─ Father Rector.

Do you... do you have a good canon
lawyer to plead our case in Rome?

One of the best. We shall be represented
in this cause by Father Arnoux.

Father Rector...

You know I found it impossible to believe
in this miracle from the very beginning.

I must ask to be excused.

Really, Father... I know
this is most irregular.

Let me remind you that your own belief
is a matter that doesn't concern us now.

Father Rector...

How can I plead a case
in which I do not believe?

One moment, Father.

As your superior, I can't of course...

Command you to believe in something
you in good conscience, can't accept.

But as your superior I can and do
request you to prepare the case.

In which I believe.

That will be all, Fathers.

I'll ask you to remain, Father Arnoux.

Father Keene.
─ Yes, sir?

I asked Dr Morrell to stop by. When he
comes, will you send him in here please?

I shall tell him.

You will be staying to supper, Monsignor?

Today is Sunday, isn't it?
─ Uhuh.

And you'll be having
cold mashed potatoes.

No thank you... besides, we're having
icebox cake at the Rectory tonight.

And your desserts are always terrible.

Well what do you say, Monsignor?

I don't know. I don't know.

Sometimes I feel very
much like Father Arnoux.

Thank you Brother Clifford.

Then why bother to help
us as much as you do?

Vanity, Father Quarterman. Vanity.

You Jesuits have a way of
turning up on the winning side.

And I like to be with the winners.

Now, Father Arnoux.

Perhaps you'll be good enough to explain
the meaning of this unusual attitude.

I have no explanation.

You must do as I bid you.

You are under a special vow of obedience.
─ Yes, I know.

I know, a good Jesuit surrenders his
will to that of his order. In all things.

And most of the time I have.

But suddenly there is
no point to it anymore.

Call it insubordination if you will.

Disrespect for authority.
The fact is I am going stale.

There is nothing anyone can do about it.
─ Marc, this isn't like you.

I'd expect that from Fulton or Rawleigh
or the younger Fathers, but not from you.

You're made of different stuff.

Am I?

I wonder.

Alright Father Rector.
Let me ask you a question.

Why were you so quick
to believe in this miracle?

Would you be so quick...

If it wasn't the one thing you needed
to prove Blessed Joseph a Saint?

You mean to imply that I perpetrated
a trick on this community?

No, of course not. You were
sincere, but you were wrong.

And then everybody followed you.
Even the church.

The church has taken
no stand in the matter.

Well, you said it yourself.
It gives you a free hand.

It allows you to go on promoting
this fantastic enterprise.

Sir, there is no promotion.
─ Not directly, perhaps, but...

You reasoned, this might be a miracle.
Therefore, it will prove itself.

It has proved itself.

Ah, Doctor, you've come
at just the right moment.

Doctor... let me ask you.

On your word of honour.

Is it your opinion that
this was truly a miracle?

The recovery of Father Sierra...

Will go down in medical history as a
case for which we have no explanation.

There Marc, you see?

I don't care what a doctor says.

What evidence do you
have as against Dr Morrell?

I have no evidence.

Marc... there are no two ways about this.

Either you do as I say...

Or I shall have to...
─ Very well then. I resign.

I can no longer be a Jesuit.
─ No, no, no. That solves nothing.

What are you holding back?

What is it? What is it?

Goodbye, Father Rector.

Oh no, Marc... you can't go like this.

Marc... you can't fail me now.

It is you who are failing me.

No.

God make me right.

Father Rector!

Father.

I don't know.

Heart attack.

There is nothing I can do in there.

It rather gets me.
These prayers for the dying.

What's getting you, Doctor, is that
in there lies another victim of your...

Glorious hoax.

I won't argue with you.

You can stop this thing
before it gets any worse.

By this time, no-one would believe me.

I destroyed Father Sierra's records.
I've no proof any more.

You can tell what happened.

I would tell now, but you call the truth.
What good would it do?

It would only hurt the people who have
come here with hearts full of hope.

Sooner or later you are going to help them
anyway. Just as you helped Father Rector.

Do you know when Father Rector was hurt?

At the very moment he
began to fear it was all a lie.

And that's when the rest of
the people will be hurt too.

Morrell, I beg of you.
Do what is right for once.

Stop worrying about who will
be helped and who will be hurt.

Try to live one life at a time.

Your own.

Alright, Father. Have it your way.

Tell anyone you want, any way you please.
─ Morrell.

Father Arnoux... Father Rector is
asking for you. Come quickly, please.

Edward.

Have I been anointed?
─ Yes, Paul. Everything has been done.

Father Rector.
─ Hello, Marc.

I'm sorry. I tried to do too much.

Too soon.

There is no hurry when you
are dealing with eternity.

Even a miracle needs time to grow in.

Edward.

Edward.
─ Yes, Paul.

There isn't much to dying.

It's like moving from
one room to another.

This is the day appointed.

And I'm content.

You must spare yourself, Father Rector.

Why should I spare myself now?

Father Keene... Father Keene.

Yes, Father Rector.

You will be acting-Rector.

Until the new one is appointed.

Use your authority with discretion.

And try to serve God with a smile.

And Monsignor... you too.

A Jesuit to the end.

I'm honoured.

Is there anything I can do for you?
─ Yes.

Don't neglect the Fathers when I'm gone.

Come and... plague them
in the way you did me.

And sometimes... remember to...

To sing a small... Te Deum for me.

A Te Deum, Father Rector?

Yes. This is not a time for mourning.

This is a time for rejoicing.

I begin to see now that...

The miracle is to have faith.

To have faith is the real miracle.

The Lord God is my shepherd.

Whom then shall I fear?

Edward.

Edward.
─ Yes, Paul?

Give me your blessing, Edward.

Dixio Dei Omnipotentis .

Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.

Amen.

I don't believe you, Peter.

I just don't believe you.

I'm telling you the truth, Terry.
There's nothing to this miracle.

There never was.

That's why the church has suddenly
called off all these pilgrimages.

But how do you know this?
How can anyone know for sure?

Terry, I was there. I planned it all.

Father Sierra walked because
he was always able to walk.

it was just like a case of
shell-shock. That's all.

So I gave him a new shock. A feeling
that he was talking with Blessed Joseph.

Suddenly, he got up and walked.

Is he really telling
the truth, Monsignor?

Would I permit him to lie
about a thing like that?

I don't know.

Everything seems to be a lie.

Maybe he thinks he can shock me.

Make me stand up and
walk like Father Sierra.

Of that, I would lie to you, Terry.

You've no idea what lies I would
tell you if they would help.

But... but what about
all the other cases?

Lots of people were helped.
You can't deny that.

Honey, they helped themselves. These were
all cases to do with the nervous system.

Like so many motors that turn
over if they get the right spark.

But your case is different, Terry.
Yours is organic.

Organic?
─ Yes.

It's like a break in the wiring system
of a car. A break that can't be mended.

It can't.

Terry.

There are other things in the world.
Enough of them to make life pretty good.

Don't worry.

You said yourself, you thought it
would be a great joke on the Fathers.

Well, I've got a sense of humour too.

I can take a... joke.

Terry.

I'm sorry for what I've done.

Well, I guess being sorry isn't enough.
It doesn't change anything.

I'll be moving out of town as soon
as I can get my things together.

May I see you again before I go?

And you think I would close
my door in your face?

Thanks, Monsignor.

Take care of her.

Have you heard from your mother, Terry?

Well... I suppose she
must be in Rome by now.

Oh by the way. Thanks for saving
the stamps for me. They're beautiful.

You know, if I were an angel...

I think half the fun would be flying
from one new place to another.

And bringing home all the stamps.

Terry.

Would it be so bad to be
deprived of a miracle?

Well, I suppose it must be if
you need one badly enough.

It's hard for me to understand.

I see miracles everywhere I look.
They are there all the time.

I'm an old man.

And the only prayer I ever learned
to say was the "Our Father".

And that's left everything up to Heaven.

Once I learned to say it and mean it.

I saw miracles everywhere I looked.

We're miracles ourselves.

And what more proof
would one need of God?

It's a miracle that God
loves us... but He does.

He does.

Yes, Monsignor.

And He loves you too, Terry.

And He never forgets.

Well, I must be going, I guess.

Good morning. Good morning.
─ Good morning, Monsignor.

Cleaning up the miracle, huh?
─ That's right.

Caesar, here! Caesar, come here.

Back here, go. Get in there Caesar.

Stay there.

Good morning.
─ Good morning.

How goes everything with the grand
army of Heaven this beautiful morning?

May I advise you Monsignor, that
you are addressing the acting-Rector.

And the acting Vice-Rector
of St Gregory's.

Oh.

Well then, are congratulations
in order, Father Rector?

No... not quite... not yet, Monsignor.

Sit down.
─ Thank you.

We've reason to believe, that we may have
official word on the matter quite soon.

You sent for me, Father Keene?

Yes, I did.

But I did not send for Father Arnoux.

Isn't that your dog, Monsignor?
─ Now Caesar, down.

I told him to stay in the car but,
he likes to hear the latest news.

I took the liberty of asking
Father Arnoux to accompany me.

No matter. What I have to say might
just as well be said to you both.

As acting-Rector it is my duty to make
various assignments for the house.

And frankly Fathers, I am puzzled.
I hardly know how to place you.

I gather that you Father Arnoux, have not
been at all happy with us here, of late.

As for you Father Quarterman,
I can't seem to account for you at all.

We carry you as a guest of the house but
you seem to be assigned to no province.

May I suggest that...

Perhaps this cable from
Rome will clarify matters.

Ah, it is from Father General,
and it says...

It says that Father Quarterman
is an official visitor.

With power over us all.

Even over Father Provincial if necessary.

So they're changing the guard
at Buckingham Palace.

Father Quarterman, I am at your service.
─ Thank you, Father Keene.

I am happy to announce... Fathers.

That your new Rector
will be Father Arnoux.

Father Quarterman.

I don't know what to say.

On that point Father, our rules are quite
explicit. You have only to say "yes".

Yes.

Father Keene is relieved as of today.

Father Sierra becomes Vice-Rector.

What, if I may I ask, is your
pleasure with respect to myself?

Father Keene, your severity
almost tempts me to suggest...

That for the next thirty days
you make the long retreat.

But instead, I recommend to Father Rector
that he assign you to library work.

And also, to loan you on Sundays to the
Monsignor whenever he has need of you.

Oh no...

Father Keene is a valuable man.
You can't spare him.

Besides, the honour is to me.
Why do I deserve such an honour?

An order is an order.
I accept what is given me.

But I fail to understand
how it could happen.

Ah, my boy, discipline, discipline.
It's a lovely and wonderful thing.

Well goodbye for now, Father... Rector.
And the best of everything to you.

Thank you, Monsignor.
You must always feel at home here.

I will, if you stop
serving those awful...

I think I can promise some
French cooking from now on.

Do it... come on, Caesar... come.

Caesar!

Caesar!

Such a nice sense of discipline.

Perhaps he too should have been a Jesuit?

Caesar!

Hello.

Hello, Father.

Would it be alright Father,
if I said a prayer in your Chapel?

Well, there must be some mistake.

Our Chapel is not always open
to the public. This is a Seminary.

Oh.
─ But how did you get in?

Oh that was easy. Joe brought me.
─ Joe? Who is he?

He drives a delivery truck so
this morning he delivered me.

I came in the back way.

You don't mind, do you?

Well, I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you
to leave... you see, a rule is a rule.

But I want to say a prayer in the Chapel
where you prayed for Father Sierra.

It's quite impossible. I told you, our
Chapel is not always open to the public.

What's the matter with
everyone all of a sudden?

It was a miracle.
I don't care what anyone says.

You can't just lock it up and put it away
as if nothing had happened, can you?

My dear child...
─ You're just like Dr Morrell.

Dr Morrell?

He too tried to tell me that
everything was all over.

Just a minute.

Is your name Terry?
─ Yes... how did you know?

Well, we Jesuits get
around now and then.

Couldn't you break a rule just once?

No, Terry. I can't say it's alright
for you to go into Chapel.

But you can say a
prayer here if you like.

Oh thank you, Father.
That's something, anyway.

Now Terry, if you'll wait here,
I'll see about getting you back to town.

Oh, Doctor. Just the man I'm looking for.

Well, good morning and
congratulations Father Rector.

I've come to say I've done
everything you wanted.

I've told everybody everything
and now I'm discharging myself.

Peter... I want you to stay
on as the house physician.

Sorry, Father. Take it from me.

We're from two different worlds.
Better not try to mix them.

What is it you're angry about now?

Starting a new war with Heaven?
─ No, Father. I've learned my lesson.

Terry.

What is this?

Oh yes. That's what I
wanted to tell you, Doctor.

What's the matter?

Terry.

Is she hurt?
─ No.

Just fainted, that's all... here.

Hold her head down.

She'll be alright in a moment.

The pulse is coming back.
─ But Peter...

How do you explain this?

I can't, Father... it's beyond me.

You mean she...

She is going to walk?

You saw it happen.

She's coming around.

Hello Terry.

Hello Peter.

Oh Peter...

The strangest thing happened just now.

I know, Terry.

I know.
─ No, you don't.

I was praying.

Then suddenly, I don't know why.

I found myself praying for you, Peter.

For me?

And as soon as I
started praying for you.

It happened.

It happened.

The Monsignor was right.

God doesn't forget us.

No. He doesn't.

Doesn't...

T-G