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Constable Crane?

Ichabod Crane, is that you?

None other.

Not only me.

I have found something,
which was lately a man.

- Burn it.
- Yes, sir.

Just a moment, if I may.
We do not yet know the cause of death.

When you find them in the river,
cause of death is drowning.

Possibly so,
if there is water in the lungs,

but by pathology we might be able to
determine whether or not he was dead

before he went into the river.

I will need to examine the body.

Cut him up. Are we heathens?

What happened to him?

Nothing, sir. Arrested for burglary.

Good work.

The millennium is almost upon us.

In a few months,
we will be living in the 19th century,

yet our courts continue
to rely on medieval devices of torture.

Stand down!

I stand up for sense and justice.

Our jails overflow with men and women

convicted on confessions
worth no more than this one.

Constable Crane!

This is a song that we have heard
from you more than once.

Now, there are two courses open to me.

First, I can let you cool your heels
in the cells

until you learn respect
for the dignity of my office.

I beg pardon.

But why am I the only one
who sees that, to solve crimes,

to detect the guilty,
we must use our brains

to recognize vital clues,
using up-to-date scientific techniques?

Which brings me to the second course.

There is a town upstate,
two days' journey to the north

in the Hudson Highlands.

It is a place called Sleepy Hollow.

Have you heard of it?

I have not.

An isolated farming community,
mainly Dutch.

Three persons have been
murdered there, all within a fortnight.

Each one found
with the head lopped off.

Lopped off?

Clean as dandelion heads, apparently.

You will take
these experimentations of yours

to Sleepy Hollow

and there you will detect the murderer.

Bring him here to face our good justice.

Will you do this?

I shall.

Remember, it is you,

Ichabod Crane,

who is now put to the test.

"The Pickety Witch, the Pickety Witch

"Who's got a kiss for the Pickety Witch?

"The Pickety Witch, the Pickety Witch

"Who's got a kiss
for the Pickety Witch?"

Is it Theodore?

No, pardon, miss. I am only a stranger.

Then have a kiss on account.

I'm looking for Baltus Van Tassel.

I'm his daughter, Katrina Van Tassel.

And who are you, friend?
We have not heard your name yet.

I've not said it. Excuse me.

- You need some manners.
- Brom.

Come, come.
We'll have no raised voices.

It is only to raise spirits
during this dark time

that I and my dear wife
are giving this little party.

Young sir, you are most welcome,
even if you are selling something.

Thank you, sir.

I am Constable Ichabod Crane,
sent to you from New York

to investigate murder in Sleepy Hollow.

Then Sleepy Hollow
is grateful to you, Constable Crane.

And we hope you will honor us
by remaining in this house.

Well spoke, dear.

Come, sir, we'll get you settled. Play on!

Excuse me, please.

Thank you.

Please tell Mr. Van Tassel
I will be down in a moment.

I will, sir.

Thank God you're here.

Excellent. Come in. Leave us, my dear.

We are joined by
Dr. Thomas Lancaster,

Reverend Steenwyck,

our able Magistrate Samuel Philipse,

and lastly,

this fine fellow is James Hardenbrook,
our notary.

And you, sir?

A simple farmer who has prospered.

The town looks to me
as friend and counsel.

And landlord and banker.
Can we proceed?

Thank you.

So...

Three persons murdered.

First, Peter Van Garrett

and his son, Dirk Van Garrett.

Both of them strong, capable men,

found together

decapitated.

One week later, the Widow Winship.

Also decapitated.

Now, I will need to ask you
many questions.

But first, let me ask,
is anyone suspected?

How much have your superiors
explained to you, Constable?

Only that the three
were slain in open ground,

their heads found severed
from their bodies.

Their heads were not found severed.

Their heads were not found at all.

The heads are gone?

Taken.

Taken by the Headless Horseman.

Taken back to hell.

Pardon, I don't...

Perhaps you had better sit down.

Yes.

The horseman was
a Hessian mercenary

sent to these shores by German princes

to keep Americans
under the yoke of England.

But unlike his compatriots,
who came for money,

the horseman came for love of carnage.

When battle was joined,
there you'd find him.

He rode a giant black steed
named Daredevil.

He was infamous
for riding his horse hard into battle,

chopping off heads at full gallop.

He had filed his teeth
down to sharp points

to add to the ferocity of his appearance.

This butcher didn't finally reach his end

until the winter of '79

not far from here in our Western Woods.

They chopped off his head
with his own sword.

Even today,
the Western Woods is a haunted place

where brave men will not venture.

For what was planted
in the ground that day

was a seed of evil.

And so it has been for 20 years.

But now the Hessian wakes.

He's on the rampage,
cutting off heads where he finds them.

Are you saying...

Is that what you believe?

Seeing is believing.

They tell me that you've brought books
and trappings of scientific investigation.

This is the only book
I recommend you read.

I see.

Reverend Steenwyck.

Gentlemen.

Murder needs no ghosts
to come from the grave.

We have murders in New York
without benefit of ghouls and goblins.

You're a long way
from New York, Constable.

The assassin is
a man of flesh and blood

and I will discover him.

Come out, devil.

His name's Gunpowder.

He should do just fine, Mr. Killian.

Thank you.

Good luck, sir.
If you need help, you call my name.

Much appreciated.

Now, don't you worry about a thing.

Everything's going to be just fine.

Thomas! Inside!

Run along for your breakfast.

Kiss your mother
once for you and twice for me.

Murder! The horseman's killed again!

All right, Gunpowder, we're off.
Come on.

No, no. Come on, the other way.

No, no. Turn around.

Good horsy.

- Mr. Miller, ride back for the coffin cart.
- Yes, sir.

The rest of you keep a sharp lookout.

It's all right. I'm here now.

The fourth victim, Jonathan Masbath.

I see.

And the head?

Taken.

Interesting. Very interesting.

What is?

In headless-corpse cases of this sort,
the head is removed

to prevent identification of the body.

But we know
this was Jonathan Masbath.

Precisely. So why was
the head removed?

- Why?
- Right.

- You have moved the body?
- I did.

- You must never move the body!
- Why not?

Because.

The stride is gigantic.

The attacker rode Masbath down,

turned his horse,

came back.

Came back to claim the head.

Yes.

There's a chemical reaction.

It shows there was a powerful,
singular thrust to the neck.

- Interesting.
- What is it?

The wound was cauterized
in the very instant,

as though the blade itself were red hot.

And yet, no blistering,
no scorched flesh.

The Devil's fire.

"Be vigilant,"
as it sayeth in the Book of Peter,

chapter five, verse eight.

"Because your adversary the devil,

"as a roaring lion, walketh about,

"seeking whom he may devour."

God rest Jonathan Masbath.

Amen.

Mr. Constable, sir.

You're young Masbath.

I was young Masbath,
but now the only one.

Masbath, at your service.

In honor bound to avenge my father.

Well, one and only Masbath,
I thank you very much,

but your mother will need you
more than I.

My mother is in heaven, sir.

She has my father now to care for her.

But you have no one to serve you.
I am your man, sir.

Yes, and a brave one, too. But I cannot
be the one to look after you.

I'm sorry for your loss,
young Mr. Masbath.

- Constable Crane.
- Mr. Philipse?

Something you should know.

Jonathan Masbath
was not the fourth victim,

- but the fifth.
- The fifth?

Aye.

Five victims in four graves.

Young Masbath.

Find a place
in the Van Tassel's servants' quarters.

Wake me before dawn.

I hope you have a strong stomach.

Peter Van Garrett.

Dirk Van Garrett.

Jonathan Masbath.

There are five victims, four graves.

The Widow Winship.

Bring the Widow in.

This is most irregular, Constable.

I should hope so, Doctor,
but in this case, necessary.

We need to operate immediately.

Operate? She's dead.

When we say "operate,"

we mean, of course,
I will need the operating table.

Once more, the neck wound cauterized.

The sword thrust to the stomach,
the same.

But to what purpose?

To what is your purpose
is the question.

What manner of instruments are these?

Some of my own design.

All right, then.
Step outside, young Masbath.

Thank you very, very much
for your help, Mr. Killian.

And if you don't mind, Doctor,

my concentration suffers greatly
when I'm observed.

I am finished.

What in the name of God
have you done to her?

We are dealing with a madman.

What did you find out, Constable?

The Widow Winship was with child.

Ichabod.

Ichabod. Ichabod.

Ichabod.

Who's there?

Ichabod.

Oh, pardon my intrusion. I saw a light.

It is no intrusion.
I come here to read when I am wakeful.

To read books which you must hide?

They were my mother's books.
My father believes

tales of romance caused the brain fever
that killed my mother.

She died two years ago
come midwinter.

The nurse who cared for her
during her sickness

is now Lady Van Tassel.

There was something else, too.

Why did no one think to mention that

the Van Garretts are kith and kin
to the Van Tassels?

Why, because there is hardly
a household in Sleepy Hollow

that is not connected
to every other by blood or marriage.

I see.

This land we're looking at
was Van Garrett land,

given to my father
when I was in swaddling clothes.

The Van Garretts were
the richest family around these parts.

When my father brought us
to Sleepy Hollow,

Van Garrett set him up with an acre
and a broken-down cottage.

My father worked hard for his family,
and prospered and built this house.

And I owe my happiness to him.

I remember living poor in the cottage.

Should I show you?

Yes.

Take this. It is my gift for you.

No, I have no use for it.

Are you so certain of everything?

It was your mother's.

Keep it close to your heart.
It is sure protection against harm.

Are you so certain of everything?

These are strange.
These markings, what are they?

I've had them since I can remember.

I used to play by this hearth as a child.

It was my first drawing school,

and my mother was my teacher.

Oh, look. See?

Carved into the fire back? The archer.

I'd forgotten it.

This was from long before
we lived here.

- Are you all right?
- Yes, thank you.

A cardinal. My favorite.

I'd love to have a tame one, but
I wouldn't have the heart to cage him.

Well, then I have something for you.

Cardinal on one side. An empty cage.

And now...

You can do magic. Teach me.

It is no magic. It is what we call optics.

Separate pictures
which become one in the spinning.

It is truth,
but truth is not always appearance.

What are you running from,
Magistrate Philipse?

Damn you, Crane.

- You had a mind to help me?
- Yes,

- and it's put me in mortal dread of...
- Of what?

Of powers against which
there is no defense. Come.

How did you know the Widow Winship
was expecting a child?

She told me.

- Then I deduce you are the father.
- I'm not the father.

Did she tell you
the name of the child's father?

Yes, she did.

She came to me for advice
as town magistrate

to protect the rights of her child.

I was bound by my oath of office
to keep the secret, but...

Do you believe the father killed her?

The Horseman killed her.

How often do I have to tell you?
There is no Horseman.

Never was a Horseman,
and never will be a Horseman.

What is that thing?

My talisman.
It protects me from the Horseman.

You, a magistrate,
and your head full of such nonsense.

Now, tell me the name of...

Oh, my God.

Constable Crane? Constable Crane?

Has he not come out at all?

- It was a headless horseman.
- You must not excite yourself.

But it was a headless horseman!

Of course it was.
That's why you're here.

No, you must believe me. It was
a horseman, a dead one. Headless.

I know. I know.

You don't know because
you were not there! It's all true.

Of course it is. I told you.
Everyone told you.

I saw him.

I suppose it's back to the city, then.

All right, this time
I'll go to New York myself.

I won't be fobbed off
with an amateur deductor.

This time, it's a magistrate
that's dead and...

Gentlemen.

I need able men to go with me
into the Western Woods.

You? We thought you'd shot your bolt.

I have faced my fears,
and come out determined

to locate the Horseman's grave.

In short, to pit myself
against a murdering ghost.

Who's with me?

Me.

The Van Garretts, Widow Winship,

your father, Jonathan Masbath,
and now Philipse.

Something must connect them.

Did your father
have dealings with the Van Garretts?

He worked for them.
We lived in the coach house.

It's nothing.

But there was something that happened
one night, a week before the murder.

An argument upstairs
between father and son.

And my father was later sent for
by Mr. Van Garrett.

An argument between father and son.

After which the elder Van Garrett sent
for his servant Masbath.

Listen.

- I hear nothing.
- Nor I.

No birds. No crickets.
It's all gone so quiet.

Quicken pace.

Pardon our intrusion,

- but perhaps you could help us?
- You're from the Hollow.

Yes. In a way, yes.

I should like to say that I make
no assumptions about your occupation.

Nor your ways, which, which, which are

nothing to me, whatever you are.

Each to his own.

Oh.

Do you know of the Horseman, ma'am?
The Hessian?

That'll be him, ma'am.

You, come with me.

Go out, child. Keep away.

Whatever you hear, keep away.

What might he hear
that he must keep away from?

He rides. To the Hollow and back.

- I hear him. I smell the blood on him.
- Do you?

Well, I'm here to find him
and make him stop.

You seek knowledge
of the netherworld?

I can show you.

- What are you doing?
- Do not move or speak.

When the other comes, I will hold him.

- The other?
- Silence. He comes now.

Madam?

Madam, do you hear me?

You seek the warrior bathed in blood,
the Headless Horseman.

Follow the Indian trail
to where the sun dies.

Follow it to the Tree of the Dead.

Climb down
to the Horseman's resting place.

We're leaving.

- What happened?
- We're leaving now.

We take the Indian trail
to the Tree of the Dead.

- How will we recognize it?
- Without difficulty, I rather fear.

We climb down
to the Horseman's resting place.

- His camp?
- His grave.

Stay here.

Halt and turn, I have a pistol aimed.

Katrina?

I might have killed you.
Why have you come?

Because no one else would go with you.

Well, then I am now twice the man.

It is your white magic.

Pardon my intrusion.

I think you'd better come
and look at this.

The Tree of the Dead.

Blood.

Stay where you are.

- What is it?
- Just stay where you are. Don't move.

This tree is a gateway.
A gateway between two worlds.

This ground has been disturbed.
The soil is loose.

Bring the shovel.

The skull is gone. Taken.

That is why
the Horseman returns from the grave.

To take heads
till his own is restored to him.

Ichabod?

Split up. Glenn. Theodore.

Don't pick your teeth,
you'll teach Thomas bad habits.

- I am a bad habit. There's nothing for it.
- Oh, isn't there?

- Come on, let's get ready for bed.
- Yes.

Beth, run!

Stay quiet.

- Wait! He's not after you.
- I'll get him.

We cannot win this.

Remarkable.
A wound like this should've killed him.

But it needs no stitch,
and there's hardly a loss of blood.

You must be still. The fever is on you.

Katrina.

Nostradamus mediamus, milk of mercy,

in media nos laudamas.

Katrina, I tried to stop Brom, but...

Drink this down. It'll make you sleep.

The Horseman was not set to kill Brom
or me. Had Brom not attacked him...

Later. Rest now.

I've discovered something.
The Horseman does not kill at random.

His victims are chosen
by someone who controls him.

By that very person who took his skull.

Someone who knew where to dig.

Someone of flesh and blood,
as I've always said.

- These are ravings.
- Drink.

Ichabod.

- You were dreaming.
- Yes.

Things I had forgotten.

- And would not like to remember.
- Tell me what you dreamt.

My mother was an innocent.
A child of nature.

Condemned.

Murdered. By my father.

- Murdered by...
- Murdered to save her soul

by a Bible-black tyrant
behind a mask of righteousness.

I was seven when I lost my faith.

What do you believe in?

Sense and reason.
Cause and consequence.

I should not have come to this place,

where my rational mind has been
so controverted by the spirit world.

Will you take nothing
from Sleepy Hollow

that was worth the coming here?

No. No, not nothing.

A kiss from a lovely young woman,

before she saw my face
or knew my name.

Yes, without sense or reason.

Forgive me, I speak of kisses

and you've lost your brave man, Brom.

I have shed my tears for Brom,
and yet my heart is not broken.

- Do you think me wicked?
- No.

But perhaps there is a bit
of a witch in you, Katrina.

- Why do you say that?
- Because you have bewitched me.

Oh.

- You slept like the dead.
- You're too kind to me.

I do not look to be served
by the lady of the house.

Nor would you be,
but that the servant girl has vanished.

- Sarah?
- Run away like so many others.

They're all leaving in fear.

Where is Katrina?

She watched over you till dawn.
Now it is her turn to sleep.

Well, I'm fit for another day, I think.

Fit enough to face a mortal adversary.

Doctor Lancaster, Reverend Steenwyck,

Notary Hardenbrook,
and Magistrate Philipse.

Who tried to cut and run,
and lost his head.

All frightened men,
arguing together on the very night

Magistrate Philipse was killed.

There is conspiracy here.

The doctor, the reverend, the notary

and the magistrate.

What is this secret that unites them?

Magistrate Philipse knew
there were five bodies to four graves.

He knew the Widow was pregnant.

He would not tell me
the name of the father.

What does this point to?

We must proceed
by a process of elimination.

I shall make a list of
every man and woman in Sleepy Hollow,

starting with its chief citizen,
Baltus Van Tassel.

I feel we're getting very close.

Yes, I suppose
Baltus is the chief citizen,

now that old Van Garrett is dead.

Yes, the Van Garretts.
I'd almost forgotten them.

Come with me.

- Where?
- To Notary Hardenbrook's.

- Have you thought of something?
- Yes. I have.

Hopeless.

My father's satchel. Why is it here?

- Leave me alone.
- Notary Hardenbrook.

Leave me alone!

Just as soon as you show me
the last will and testament

of old man Van Garrett.

The will leaves everything to his son.

Who died with him.
So the estate passes to the next of kin.

- Naturally. All legal and above board.
- Sir.

I'm a dead man. No.

Van Garrett's seal. Broken.

Seems Van Garrett
made a new will just before he died.

Naming Widow Winship?

And here, look. A marriage certificate.

Old Van Garrett
secretly married the Widow.

Left everything to her
and her unborn child.

So the new will
stood between the Van Garrett fortune

and the person who would have
otherwise inherited everything.

It's true. But we four were drawn in
against our will.

- Your will?
- He means...

Of course. The four town elders.

Now I see what parts you had to play.

Reverend Steenwyck knew the secret
because he performed the marriage.

Dr. Lancaster attended
the pregnant woman.

Magistrate Philipse
gave protection of the law.

And Notary Hardenbrook
concealed the documents,

which had been entrusted
by Van Garrett to his faithful servant.

The four conspirators
drawn into the plot.

We did not know
it was a murdering plot.

But I have not finished, sir.

First, the Van Garretts, father and son,
slain by a horseman

raised from the grave to chop heads.

Now, up pops a widow with a claim
on a fortune. Off with her head!

But murder begets murder.

It was the servant, Jonathan Masbath.

The night father and son
quarreled over the new will,

Jonathan Masbath was summoned
upstairs to bear witness.

Here is his signature.

I'm afraid it was his death warrant,
young Masbath.

The Horseman came for him.

Came for him at the bidding of
someone who had power over him.

Someone who dug in the earth in
the Western Woods and stole the skull.

The missing head, which must
be restored to the Horseman

before he will return to Hell.

Someone who stood to gain
or lose a fortune.

None other than Van Garrett's
next of kin, Baltus Van Tassel!

- Katrina? Why are you in my room?
- Because it is yours.

- Was it wicked of me?
- No. No, not at all.

I missed you. Where did you go?

To the notary.
I had questions to ask Hardenbrook.

And did you learn anything of interest?

Perhaps.

- My father...
- Your father?

Yes. My father thinks
you should return to New York.

Really? Why is that?

I don't know.

Perhaps he looked in your ledger
and did not like what he saw.

- What have you there?
- Evidence. I'm sorry, I must ask you...

Then I'll leave you to your thoughts.

- It's just a spider.
- Kill it! Kill it! No, no, stomp it!

- There's something under here.
- What is it?

- Help me move the bed.
- No, no, I mustn't. You do it.

The evil eye. It is someone
casting spells against you.

The evil eye?

Wait here.

Katrina, you took the evidence

and burned it.

So you would not have it
to accuse my father.

I accuse no one.

But if there is guilt, I cannot alter it,

no matter how much it grieves me.

And no spells of yours
can alter it, either.

Your father has the motive.

It is he who stands to profit
from these murders.

If you knew him, you would not have
such harsh thoughts about him.

No, nor if you felt anything for me.

I am pinioned by a chain of reasoning.

Why else did his four friends
conspire to conceal...

You are the constable, not I.

So find another chain of reasoning
and let me be.

I cannot, not the one or the other.
And I am heartsick with it.

I think you have no heart.
And I had a mind once to give you mine.

Yes, I think you loved me that day
when you followed me

into the Western Woods
to have braved such peril.

What peril was there for me,

if it was my own father who controlled
the Headless Horseman?

Goodbye, Ichabod Crane.

I curse the day
you came to Sleepy Hollow.

- She will not see you.
- Did she say anything?

Only that she will not come down.

I see. Thank you.

Constable?

You have not asked me how
I have hurt my hand since yesterday,

which would have been polite.

In fact, you have been as careful

not to look at it as not to mention it.

Yes, I'm sorry. How did you...

- I know you saw me.
- What?

I know you followed last night.

And you must promise
not to tell my husband what you saw.

Promise me!

The town is in ferment.

Horror piled on tragedy.
Hardenbrook is dead.

- Oh, no! That harmless old man?
- Hanged himself in the night.

Hanged himself?

Reverend Steenwyck's
called a meeting in the church tonight.

Every man, woman, and child
is going to speak out against you.

If you are wise, you will leave this place.

- What is that?
- I was careless with the kitchen knife.

The wound looks angry.

I will bind it later
with wild arrowroot flowers.

I know where some grow.

Come on, hurry up.
The meeting bell started tolling.

The Horseman!

- Katrina!
- Father?

The Horseman! Save me!

He killed her.
The Horseman killed your stepmother.

Oh, God!

Fire!

You'll kill us all!
You're the one the Horseman wants.

He cannot enter.

Over here!

The Horseman cannot enter.

Why should we die for you?

The Horseman cannot enter.
He cannot cross the gate.

We have to save ourselves.

The next person that lays a hand on me
will get a bullet!

He's coming back!

Enough have died already.
It's time to confess our sins.

- What is it that you know?
- Your four friends played you false.

We were devilishly possessed
by one who...

Get out of my way!
Stand back! Stay back!

Back! Stand back!

There is a conspiracy here,
and I will shake it out.

It was an evil spirit possessed you.

I pray God it is satisfied now,
and that you find peace.

The evil eye's done its work.

My life is over, spared for
a lifetime of horrors in my sleep,

waking each day to grief.

Goodbye, Katrina.

- You think it was Katrina, don't you?
- That can never be uttered.

A strange sort of witch,
with a kind and loving heart.

- How can you think so?
- I have good reason.

- Then you are bewitched by reason.
- I am beaten down by it!

It is a hard lesson for a hard world,

and you had better learn it,
young Masbath.

Villainy wears many masks.

None so dangerous
as the mask of virtue.

Farewell.

- Van Ripper, turn the coach.
- What?

Turn around now!

Pardon my intrusion.

No blood flow, no clotting, no healing.

When this cut was made,
this woman was already dead.

Dear stepdaughter,

you look as if you'd seen a ghost.

Rise up once more, my dark avenger.

One more night of beheading.
Rise up with your sword.

A head for a head.

My unholy horseman, rise!

Come now for Katrina!

Awake at last.

Did you think it was all a nasty dream?

Father saw the Horseman kill you.

He saw the Horseman come
towards me with his sword unsheathed,

but it is I who govern the Horseman,
my dear.

And Baltus did not stay to watch.

- But there was a body.
- The servant girl, Sarah.

And I always thought she was useless.

But it seems
she had a purpose after all.

Who are you?

- My family name was Archer.
- The archer.

I lived with my father and mother
and sister in a cottage not far from here.

Until one day my father died,

and the landlord, who had received
many years of loyal service

from my parents, evicted us.

No one in this God-fearing town
would take us in

because my mother
was suspected of witchcraft.

But she schooled her daughters well,

while we lived as outcasts
in the Western Woods.

She died within a year.

My sister and I remained in our refuge,
seeing not a soul.

Until one day, whilst gathering firewood,

we crossed the path of the Hessian.

I saw his death.

At that moment,
I offered my soul to Satan,

if he would raise the Hessian
from the grave to avenge me.

- Avenge you?
- Against Van Garrett.

The landlord who showed us no mercy
and left us to starve,

whilst Baltus Van Tassel
and his simpering wife and girl child

stole our home.

I swore I would make myself
mistress of all he had.

The easiest part was the first.

To enter your house
as your mother's sick nurse,

and put her body into the grave
and my own into the marriage bed.

Not quite so easy
was to secure my legacy.

The Widow had to go, of course.

And the servant, Masbath.

And then, just the other day,
that silly midwife Killian

told me the Widow had told her
a big secret.

And she told me this
right in front of her husband.

What a goose!

So, another little job for the Horseman.

But lust delivered
the Reverend Steenwyck into my power.

Fear did the same
for the notary, Hardenbrook,

and the drunkard Philipse.

And the doctor's silence I exchanged

for my complicity in his fornications
with the servant girl, Sarah.

- Yes, you have everything now.
- No.

You have, my dear, by your father's will.

I get everything
in the event of your death.

My sister, by the way,
sadly passed away.

Quite recently.

You killed your own sister?

She brought it on herself
by helping you and your master.

You're just in time
to have your head cut off.

The Horseman comes!
And tonight, he comes for you!

Katrina!

Thank God.

Watch your head.

To the roof! I have an idea.

Jump for the sails.

Jump!

Hurry!

- Is he dead?
- That's the problem.

He was dead to begin with.

- Where are we going?
- Anywhere but here.

Here, take the reins.

Ichabod!

My bag!

Jump!

- Still alive?
- Run, Katrina.

Yes, do run, and jump, and skip.

No!

Here! Take her!

She's yours!

Sir, you're not dead.

Horseman!

Just in time for a new century.

You'll soon get your bearings,
young Masbath.

The Bronx is up, the Battery's down,

and home is this way.

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