All language subtitles for Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) DVDRip (SiRiUs sHaRe)

What we see ...

and what we seem ...

are but a dream ...

a dream within a dream.

"Meet me, love, when day is ending."

"I love thee for thy highborn grace,

thy deep and lustrous eyes,

for the sweet meaning of thy brow

and for thy bearing so high."

Six ...

and seven ...

and eight ...

and nine ...

and ten ...

and 11.

"I love thee not because thou art fair,

softer than down, smoother than air,

nor for the cupids that do lie

in either corner of thine eye.

Wouldst thou then know
what it might be?

'Tis I love thee 'cause
thou lovest me."

See the little horse

My little horse

Trotting down the paddock

On his fine white feet

Black horse, white horse

Brown horse, grey

Trotting down the paddock

On a bright, sunny day

Someday, Sara, you shall have to
come home with me to the station,

to Queensland,

and meet my sweet,
funny family for yourself.

Would you like that?

You must learn to love someone else

apart from me, Sara.

I won't be here much longer.

What do you think, Miranda?

Somebody had the nerve to
send Miss McCraw a card

on squared paper
covered with tiny sums.

Girls! Girls!

Unless you all deport yourselves

with rather more grace
and considerably less noise,

Mrs. Appleyard will see to it that
none of you go to Hanging Rock today.

Bonjour, Miss Lumley.

Good morning,
Mademoiselle de Poitiers.

I believe Mrs. Appleyard has decided
you're not to go on the picnic, Sara.

That makes two of us.

Off you go!

To St. Valentine!

Frere Jacques
Frere Jacques

Dormez vous ...

Tais-toi, Irma.
Miss McCraw vient d'arriver.

She wants algebra today.

Today?

Good morning, girls.

Good morning, Mrs. Appleyard.

Well, young ladies, we are
indeed fortunate in the weather

for our picnic to Hanging Rock.

I have instructed Mademoiselle
that as the day is likely to be warm,

you may remove your gloves once
the drag has passed through Woodend.

You will partake of luncheon
at the picnic grounds near the rock.

Once again let me remind you that the
rock itself is extremely dangerous,

and you are therefore forbidden
any tomboy foolishness

in the matter of exploration,
even on the lower slopes.

I also wish to remind you, the vicinity
is renowned for its venomous snakes

and poisonous ants of various species.

It is, however, a geological marvel

on which you will be required to
write a brief essay on Monday morning.

That is all.
Have a pleasant day,

and try to behave yourselves in a
manner to bring credit to the college.

Mr. Hussey! Mr. Hussey!

I shall expect you back,
Miss McCraw and Mademoiselle,

at about 8:00 for a light supper.

Come, girls.

Whoa!

This we do for pleasure,

so that we may shortly
be at the mercy

of venomous snakes and poisonous ants.

How foolish can human creatures be?

There she is, ladies.
Hangin' Rock.

The mountain comes to Mohammed.

A hanging rock comes to Mr. Hussey.

More than 500 feet high she is.

Volcanic, of course.
Thousands of years old.

A million years old, Mr. Hussey,
or thereabouts.

Yes, well, that'd be right.

Thousands, millions.

Devil of a long time, anyway,
in a manner of speakin'.

Only a million years ago.
Quite a recent eruption, really.

The rocks all around
Mount Macedon itself

must be all of 350 million years old.

Siliceous lava forced
up from deep down below.

Soda trachytes

extruded in a highly viscous state,

building the steep-sided mountains
we see in Hanging Rock.

And quite young, geologically speaking.
Barely a million years.

Waiting a million years just for us.

More cake, Michael?

No, thank you, Aunt.
I'm ...

I think I'll just, um,
stretch my legs a bit.

Oh, don't go too far and be careful.

There could be snakes.

How's it goin'?

All right.

They finished eating, have they?

Eh?

The colonel and the missus ...
they finished eating, have they?

Oh, yes, they have.

Expect me up there in a minute,
I suppose.

Clear away.

Can't be more'n midday.

No.

I thought it was a little
early for lunch myself.

Yes.

Drink?

Thank you.

You know, they always allow an hour
longer than it takes to get 'ere,

and then they got 'ere straight away.

Thanks.

Ah.

Not that they got anything else to do.

I mean, they never go
for a walk or nothin'.

Get on!

Come on!

Take your hats.
Let's go walk about now.

To St. Valentine!

To St. Valentine!

I hope you have learned your poetry, Sara.

Sit up straight, child.
Hold your shoulders back.

You're getting a dreadful stoop.

Well, have you got your lines by heart?

Well, have you?

I can't.
It doesn't make sense.

Sense!
You little ignoramus!

Evidently you don't know
that Mrs. Felicia Heymans

is considered one of the finest
of our English poets.

I know another piece of poetry by heart.

It has ever so many verses, much
more than "The Wreck of the Hesperus."

Would that do?

What is the name of this poem?

"An Ode to St. Valentine."

I'm not acquainted with it.
Where did you find it?

I didn't find it.
I wrote it.

You wrote it?

"Love abounds, love surrounds ..."

Oh, no thank you, Sara.

Strange as it may seem,
I still prefer Mrs. Heymans.

Give me your book and proceed to recite
to me as far as you have gone.

Your book, please, Sara.

Thank you.

Go on.

I can't.

Not one line?

I shall leave you now, Sara.

I expect you to be word perfect
when I send Miss Lumley in in half an hour.

Otherwise, I'm afraid
I shall have to send you to bed,

instead of letting you stay up
until the others return from the picnic.

Bertie! Bertie!

Jesus, where are you?

Oh, Miranda!

I like this one.

"Shall I compare thee
to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely
and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake
the darling buds of May.

And summer's lease hath
all too short a date."

That's funny!

Blowed if me watch hasn't stopped.

Dead on 12:00.

Real funny.

C'est tres jolie, n'est-ce pas?

Uh, you wouldn't have the time,
I suppose, miss?

Ah, Miranda, your pretty
little diamond watch.

Don't wear it anymore.

Can't stand the ticking
above my heart.

Ah.

If it were mine, I'd wear it always.

Even in the bath.

Would you, Mr. Hussey?

Stopped at 12:00.

Never stopped before.
Must be something magnetic.

Well after 2:00, I'd say.

We'd better be careful.
I promised Mrs. Appleyard

I'd have you lot back
at the college by 8:00.

Except for those people down there,

we might be the only living creatures
in the whole world.

Excuse me, Mademoiselle.

Yes, Marion?

I should like to make a few measurements
of the base of the rock if we have time.

With Miranda and Irma.

Please, Mademoiselle.
We'll be back long before tea.

Et bien. Allez!

May I come too, please?

So long as you don't complain.

I won't.
I promise.

And don't worry about us, Mademoiselle.

We shall only be gone a little while.

Ah.

Now I know.

What do you know?

I know that Miranda
is a Botticelli angel.

Wait!

Can you manage it, Edith?

I don't know.

I don't want to get my feet wet.

Oh!

Thought the little fat
one was gonna take a bath.

Some of them are real lookers.

Have a look at the shape of
the dark one with the curls.

Built like an hourglass.

And 'ave a go at the last one!
The blonde!

Oh, she'd have a decent pair of legs.

All the way up to her bum.

I'd rather you didn't say
crude things like that.

Oh, I say the crude things.
You just think 'em.

Miranda!

Take my word for it.

The sheilas are all alike
when it comes to fellas.

Doesn't matter if it's a
bloody college you come from,

or the Ballarat Orphanage where me
and me kid sister was dragged up.

I didn't know you were an orphan.

Geez. I haven't thought of that
bloody dump in donkeys' years.

Miranda!

I think I'll just, uh,
stretch my legs a bit before we go.

Look!

Not down at the ground, Edith.
Way up there in the sky.

Why can't we just sit on this log

and look at the ugly
old rock from here?

It's nasty here!

I never thought it would be so nasty,

or I wouldn't have come!

We can't go much further.

We promised Mademoiselle ...

we wouldn't be long away.

If only we could stay out all night

and watch the moon rise.

Blanche said Sara writes
poetry in the dunny!

She found one there on the
floor all about Miranda.

She's an orphan.

Sara reminds me of a little deer
Papa brought home once.

I looked after it, but it died.

Mama always said it was doomed.

Doomed?
What's that mean, Irma?

Doomed to die, of course.

"The boy stood on the burning deck,

whence all but he had fled, tra la ..."

I forget the rest.

I think I must be doomed.
I don't feel at all well.

I do wish you'd stop talking for once.

Poor Edith.
We'll go back soon.

Irma! Look at them!

Where in the world are they going?

Without their shoes!

Irma, wait!
Wait for me!

Please wait!
Wait, Irma, wait!

Whatever can those people
be doing down there?

Like a lot of ants.

Surprising the number of human beings
are without purpose.

Although it is probable

they're performing some function
unknown to themselves.

Everything begins and ends

at exactly the right time

and place.

Look!

Miranda, I feel awful,

really awful.

Oh.

Miranda, I feel perfectly awful.

When are we going home?

When are we going home?

Miranda?

Miranda!

Miranda!

Miranda, don't go up there!
Come back!

I've gotta go.
That's Mrs. Appleyard.

Let someone else go.

They won't.
No. I'm on.

What time is it?

What've you got to do?

Mrs. Appleyard'll skin me.

We got plenty of time.

You'd better go.

Why are they so late?

God be praised!

Mademoiselle, why are you so late?

Madame, something terrible
has happened.

What? What do you mean?

I can't ...

And where in heaven's
name is Miss McCraw?

We left her behind at the rock.

You left her behind?

Has everyone taken leave
of their senses?

Miss Lumley, get these
girls to bed immediately.

And Cook, Cook!
Hot soup, please, for all of them.

Mrs. Appleyard,
I-I must speak to you alone.

Very well.

Straight up the stairs, girls.
Come along, quickly as you can.

Cook, I asked you for hot soup!

Well, ma'am, ma'am,
the strength of it is this.

Three of your young ladies

and Miss McCraw

are m-missing on the rock.

What happened?

Well, now, Mrs. Appleyard,

that's just the trouble.

Nobody knows what happened.

How soon after the girls
did Miss McCraw leave?

Don't know.
No one knows.

No one saw her leave.
We were asleep.

And the little one?

Edith Horton.

Like I told you,

she come tearin' out of the bushes,

dress all torn,

screamin' fit to ...

Well, after we'd shooshed her screamin',
all we could get out of her

was that she'd left the other three
somewhere up on the rock.

That's about all I can tell ya.

Miranda! Miranda!

Marion!

Marion!

Go on, get out of here.

Ah, stop it!

Come on.

Miranda!

Try to remember, Edith.

What it was that frightened
you on the rock.

Think carefully, darling.
Carefully!

Did you speak to anyone?

There must have been something.

Was there a man?

Her legs were quite severely scratched.

From running through the brambles,
I should imagine.

Nothing else?

Nothing I could detect.

She hadn't been ... molested?

No, no, nothing like that.

I have examined her.
She is quite intact.

Since you won't tell me all the details,

how can I give you an opinion, Lionel?

There are no details.

People just don't disappear,
my dear.

Not without good reason.

There's talk, is there?

Not just gossip.
People have ... theories.

Go on.

Well, it couldn't be local.

Why couldn't it?

No one around here would
do a thing like that.

I've just told you, Sergeant, I simply
noticed three young ladies crossing the creek.

What did they look like?

Hmm?

The girls.
Describe them to me.

Hmm, um, the first one
was tall and dark.

Um, then there was the
little dumpy one,

then the girl with the glasses,

and the last one was slim and fair.

That's four.

Pardon?

A few minutes ago
you said there was only three of them.

Oh-Oh, ye ...

That's because the dumpy one
was back a little.

And then they moved off into the trees

and that's the last we saw of them.

Perhaps we could go a little higher.

I was tired.

I sat down on a log.

Which log, Edith?
This one?

Look around you, darling.
Maybe you can see it now.

Is that the one?
You went that way?

I don't know.

I was tired.
I'm tired now.

There is one thing I remember.

What do you remember, Edith?
Tell us.

It was when I was coming down,

when I was running.

It was a cloud.

What sort of a cloud?

It was red.

I remember it clearly.
It was just after I passed Miss McCraw.

Who did you say you saw?

Miss McCraw.

She was going up the
hill as I was going down.

Did she stop?
Did you speak?

No. She was too far away.

She was about as far away
as those dead trees are over there.

She was funny.

Funny?

How?

I'd rather not say.

You must, Edith.
It could be very important.

It's rude.

Les pantalons.

She had no skirt.
Just les pantalons.

Drawers?
You mean she was just wearing drawers?

One last go ...

for the bloodhound.

Miranda.

Why didn't you tell us
you followed the four girls?

Because ...

I didn't exactly follow them.

I just jumped across the creek

and walked towards the
rock for a little way.

I was curious.

In England, young ladies like that wouldn't
be allowed to go walking in the forest.

Not alone, anyway.

But they'd gone by the time I came out
of the trees, so I turned back.

As the girls were
jumping the creek ...

what were you thinking of?

Hmm?

Ah, Michael.

Oh, Michael!

The old man hired me to
look after the horses.

I'm buggered if I'm gonna be a lackey
at a bloody garden party.

That's what I bloody well told 'im.

More or less.

Had the bloodhound out the other day.

I wake up every night
in a cold sweat.

Just wondering if
they're still alive.

Yeah, well, the way
I look at it is this:

If the bloody cop and
the bloody abo tracker

and the bloody dog can't find 'em,
well, no one bloody can.

People have been bushed before today,

and as far as I'm concerned,
that's the stone end of it.

Well, it's not the end of it
as far as I'm concerned.

They may be out there
dying of thirst on ...

on that infernal rock and ...

you and I are sitting here
drinking cold bloody beer.

That's where you and me's different.

If you want my advice, the sooner
you forget the whole thing, the better.

Well, I can't forget it,
and I never will.

I'm not great shakes on music,

but I reckon the governor
must be leavin', eh?

Your aunt'll give you hell
if you're not on show.

Albert.

I want to go back to the rock.

To look for them.

Will you come with me?

Beautiful birds, them swans.

A week in the bush ...

they'd be dead by now.

Then I'll go alone.

Coo-ee!

Albert!

Hello?

Coo-ee!

Mike!

Michael!

Michael!

We'll have to be goin' soon.

Dark before we get back.

I'm staying here.

You're what?

I'm staying here.

Here? On the rock?

Yes.

What the hell for?
You're mad.

Yes, perhaps I am. But I'm still
staying, because somebody has to.

Just because you lot are Australians ...

You're a funny bugger.

Well, what the hell am I gonna tell 'em
when I get back there without ya?

You can tell 'em what you like.

Hmm? What? Woodend?

The Victoria, sir.

The little pub near the corner.

Mr. Michael's pretty knocked up, sir.
He's sleepin' there.

The pub.

Yeah. Yeah.

I'm dashed if I know how
his aunt will take it.

Yeah.

All right.
Carry on, Crundall.

Thank you, sir.

Stopped at twelve.

Never stopped before.

Everything begins and ends

at exactly the right time.

Waiting a million
years just for us.

Look! Way up there in the sky!

Now I know!

What do you know?

Surprising the number
of human beings

are without purpose.

Although it is probable

they are performing some function
unknown to themselves.

Everything begins and ends

at exactly the right
time and place.

Miranda.

Miranda!

Miranda!

Miranda!

Coo-ee!

Coo-ee!

Coo-ee!

Coo-ee!

Coo-ee!

Let me have him now, son.

I've had 30 years experience
puttin' them in,

so they don't fall out back on the road.

Eh, take her quietly, Sergeant.

Oh, Jesus. Jesus.

Help me!

Help me!

Mademoiselle, they found Irma.

What did you say?

They found Irma, and she's still alive.

Oh ...

No one else?

No.

Now go home.
There's nothing you can do.

Go on, now. Go home!
This is a police matter.

Well, go on.

We've got a bloody right to know.

We'd like to know what's going on.

He's right.

We simply want something
done about it.

Where's Bumpher?

What we should do
is go to the bloody rock ourselves.

We've got our own self-respect
to think about.

He's right, there.
Get Bumpher out here. Come on.

Come out, Bumpher!

Go back.

Go on. Go home.
The bloody lot of you.

Nothing you can do.

We can thank the Lord

for this merciful deliverance
of our dear classmate Irma,

and pray that Marion and Miranda

and our beloved Miss McCraw
will be likewise spared.

It has been seen fit that
Irma should convalesce

at the home of Colonel Fitzhubert
in Mount Macedon.

Although you'll be delighted
at these good tidings,

I would ask you to remember,
please,

that of the three remaining lost
members of the party,

there is, as yet, no trace.

Would you come with me to my study,
please, Miss Lumley?

You may carry on, Mademoiselle.

Wonderful news, Mrs. Appleyard.

Don't be so foolish, woman!

If all of them had been
found but only one?

This makes it worse.
Far worse.

This tragedy is little
more than a week old

and already three ... three,
mark you ... sets of parents

have written advising me that their
daughters will not be here next term.

Now the newspapers have something
further to sensationalize about.

Newspapers all over the world have
headlined our morbid affair, Miss Lumley.

I mean, you realize that, I suppose.

The three who have been withdrawn,

plus the three still
missing on the rock ...

Two, Mrs. Appleyard. Only two now.
I'm quite sure Irma will be coming back.

That makes six, Miss Lumley ...

will not be with us next term.

In addition, there are several sets
of tuition fees impossibly overdue.

Sara Waybourne, for instance.

Most inconsiderate,
if I may say so, Mrs. Appleyard.

Yes.

Well, I ...

I expect we shall see our
way through somehow.

But don't let me detain you, Miss Lumley.
You have a class in a few minutes, I believe.

Senior needlework.

Just ask the Waybourne girl
to come in to see me, please.

After luncheon will be convenient.

Yes, Mrs. Appleyard.

Oh, and Miss Lumley ...

do your best to forbid any idle gossip
about this whole wretched business.

Yes, Mrs. Appleyard.
I will.

Shh!

Ah!

Remarkable. Hmm.

A week out in the bush
and nothing more serious

than shock and exposure.

Extraordinary.

No bones broken.

Some cuts and bruises
to the face and hands.

To the hands especially.

Quite scratched.

The fingernails are all torn and broken.

There are several other unusual features.

Her head is quite badly bruised.

Probable concussion.

A blow, maybe?

Or a fall?

But then if she fell,

why is the rest of the body unmarked?

It's quite unblemished.

And the feet, too, are quite unmarked,
which is very strange

as she was not wearing shoes or
stockings when she was found.

We found no trace of 'em
up on the rocks.

Mmm.

She's quite intact.

I'd give my head to know
what really happened up there.

She's quite intact.

What is it, my girl?

Well, ma'am, it's Miss Irma.

Yes?

Well, it's about her clothing.

What is it, my dear?

Well, I didn't know whether the
sergeant should be told.

There's, there's no corset.

Miss Irma's corset.
It's missing.

You did right, my dear.

It can't possibly be
of any interest.

The north wind
brings me no rest

Any number of unsolved
murders there are.

Take, take Jack the Ripper,
for instance.

The police are up there again,
naturally.

Thick as flies.

Someone reported seein' a light
flashing around a pigsty

on a place about a mile
from the rock.

There's some questions got answers
and some haven't.

No. There'll be a solution turn
up directly, more'n likely.

A kidnappin'.

Or, you know, something like that.

They might have fallen down a hole.

No, no. There's a solution
somewhere, all right.

There's gotta be.

Come over here.
Come on.

Over here.

Did you know, lad,
there are some plants that can move?

No.

Miss Lumley said you wanted to
see me, Mrs. Appleyard.

That is correct.
Come in.

Close the door, please.

I have written several letters to
your guardian, Mr. Cosgrove, Sara,

but I have not been favored
with a reply thus far.

In fact, it is all of six months
since I have received a letter

or a check.

I, therefore, have no alternative
but to cancel all your extras.

This means that, as of today,

you can no longer partake
in dancing or drawing lessons.

And unless all your outstanding fees
are paid by Easter,

I'm afraid we shall have to
make other arrangements.

You know what that means,
don't you, Sara?

You will have to go away.

There are places for girls in
your predicament. Institutions.

Now off you go.

Sara.

Sara!
What's wrong with you?

Are you feeling ill?

People don't sit on cold steps in the
dark unless they're weak in the head.

You heard the bell.
Go and wash for supper.

Aren't you hungry?

Well, you best go straight to bed.

Quickly.

Tell Mademoiselle I don't want it.
Thank you.

But you must eat.
You'll get sick if you don't.

I'm sick already.
If I eat that, I'll be even sicker.

Nonsense.
Now come on, Miss Sara.

Do you know what, Minnie?

No. What?

I was in an orphanage once.

Were you, Sara?

I had a brother then ...
called Bertie.

I told the matron
I wanted to be a lady circus rider

on a white horse with
a spangled dress.

She was afraid I'd run away,
so she shaved my head.

I bit her arm. It bled.

So she painted my head
with gentian violet.

The north wind brings me no rest

And death is in the sky

I love you, Minnie

I love you, darlin'.

I feel sorry for them kids.

The ones on the rock, you mean?

Yeah, them too.

I was thinkin' of them other poor
little devils, here at the college.

Them. They're all right.

Rollin' in cash, most of them.

Or at least their
mothers and fathers are.

Some of them are orphans ...

or wards, or ...

You know.

Now I know.

What do you know?
What do you know?

I know that Miranda
is a Botticelli angel.

Hold it right there.
Thanks, gentlemen.

That's it. Smile, please.

Come on. Big smile.

Thank you, thank you.

Get those women over here, please.

The rope.
Not that stuff. The other.

Give me that rope over here.

What about a cup of tea up here?

Ah, tea. Ah.

Hello!

Good, good.

As if looking up.
Right up.

That's it. Looking for a cave
or something like that.

Little more expression
in the face, sir.

Hello, Irma.

Madame Fitzhubert showed me in.

How do you feel?

Oh, Irma!

Oh, Irma.

We thought you had gone forever.

Let me look at you, cherie.

You are so pale ...

but prettier than ever.

Has the nephew paid you a visit yet,

the one who found you?

Yes.

And the policeman.

And you couldn't ...

I, I remember ... nothing.

Nothing!
I remember nothing!

Morning.

Send that reporter packing!

Girls. Girls, get inside at once!

There you are, Miranda, dear.

You liked these best.

Mr. Whitehead gave them
to me to give to you,

my dear, my sweet Miranda.

She likes daisies best of all.

Oh, Sara! Oh, Sara!

You do know that Miranda
might not come back.

Miranda knows lots of things
other people don't know.

Secrets.

She knew she wouldn't come back.

Fanny, you are ridiculously out of step.
Pay attention to the music, please!

Excuse me, Miss Lumley.
Voila, mes enfants!

See who we have with us today?

Our dear Irma is with
us but for a few hours.

She is leaving soon
to join her parents in Europe.

Alors, mes enfants.

For ten minutes,
you may talk as you choose.

If you approve, Miss Lumley.

Tell us, Irma! Tell us!

What happened to Miranda, Irma?

You know what happened.
Tell us!

Tell us, Irma!

Why don't you tell us, Irma?
You know where they are!

Just tell us, Irma!
Tell us!

They're dead!
All dead and gone, Irma!

She's going to you know where!

You are a liar and a fool!

Mademoiselle?

It's for her own good!
To cure her terrible stooping!

Come in.

Well? Come in.

My notice, ma'am.

Have we an invalid in the house?

Miss Sara's supper, ma'am.

Mademoiselle asked me,
seeing as the child's feeling poorly.

Oh. Minnie!

Hmm?

Kindly tell Miss Sara not to put her
light out until I've had a word with her.

Yes, ma'am.

This is not a charitable institution.

You recall our recent discussion, Sara.

Answer me when I address you, child.

Yes.

I have considered your
situation most carefully,

and I have searched my mind
and my conscience for a solution.

But this is not a
charitable institution.

And as your fees have not
been forthcoming,

I have been forced to make certain
arrangements on your behalf.

You will be returned to the orphanage.

You still thinking
about that bloody rock?

I can't help it.

It comes back at night in dreams.

I had a funny dream last night.

There was this smell.
Real strong.

It was like, like I was wide awake.
Dead quiet.

Pansies.
That's what it smelt like.

And the whole place was all lit up,
bright as day.

Pitch black outside.

And there she is.

Who was it?

It was only a bloody dream!

My kid sister.
Haven't seen her since the orphanage.

She always liked pansies.

And she went all
sort of ... misty-like.

I calls out, "Sara, don't go yet."

"Good-bye, Bertie," she says.

"I've come a long way to see ya,
and now I must go."

And she went.

Clear through that wall over there.

Sit down, please, Mademoiselle.

Merci.

We were speaking last night
about the Waybourne girl.

You expressed concern over
the state of her health.

Yes, madame.

We have been relieved of
any further responsibility.

Her guardian, Mr. Cosgrove, arrived
this morning and took her away with him.

That's ...
But was she fit enough to travel?

Apparently.

I should have been here
to supervise her packing.

I, myself, helped Sara put a few
things she especially wanted

into her little covered basket.

Mr. Cosgrove was in
a hurry to get away.

I shall not be coming
into luncheon, Mademoiselle.

Kindly tell them not to
lay a place for me.

Nor for Sara?

Nor for Sara.

Is that rouge I see on your cheek,
Mademoiselle?

Powder, madame.
I find it becoming.

Oh, God.

Bye!

Thank you very much for
the lovely breakfast!

Bye-bye!

Hope you have a nice holiday!

Bye-bye!

Au revoir!

Frere Jacques
Frere Jacques

Au revoir, mes enfants.

Dormez vous
Dormez vous

Au revoir!

Arthur, my late husband, and I

always took our annual
holidays in Bournemouth.

Mmm. It's a delightful place.

Absolutely delightful.
Nothing changed.

Ever.
For 40 years.

The pier, the sands and the people.

And that guest house.

So dependable.

Completely and utterly dependable.

A little more, Mademoiselle?

No, madame.

As you wish.

I came to depend so
much on Greta McCraw.

So much masculine intellect.

I came to rely on that woman.

Trust her.

How could she allow herself
to be spirited away?

Lost.

Raped.

Murdered in cold blood
like a silly schoolgirl

on that wretched Hanging Rock.

Will Sara Waybourne be coming
back this term, madame?

Oh!

Now where was I?

Oh, yes!
Bournemouth.

What a delightful place!

Nothing changed. Ever.

Dirty kids.

Oh!

Oh! Oh!

Sara! Sara!

The body of Mrs. Arthur Appleyard,

principal of Appleyard College,

was found at the base of Hanging Rock
on Friday the 27th of March, 1900.

Although the exact circumstances
of her death are not known,

it is believed she fell
while attempting to climb the rock.

A search for the missing
schoolgirls and their governess

continued spasmodically for the
next few years without success.

To this day, their
disappearance remains a mystery.