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[dramatic music]

[male #1] 'You get used to it when you've been out East a bit.'

'The cholera, the plague.'

'It strikes white men and natives.'

'Men, women and children, they die by the thousands.'

'The cholera makes no distinction.'

'For a long while nobody knows who is dead'

'and who got away to the hills.'

'Nobody knows but the vultures'

'circling, waiting..'

Mostly, this is what you have afterwards.

An empty place with no breathing soul.

It's not England, Barney.

I ventured to say you'll get used to it.

You haven't been here long enough. I have.

[hen clucking]

"Sadea and her husband. No children identified."

I had tea on this verandah once.

"John Lennox, Mrs. John Lennox."

If I'd been a captain or better, they'd have asked me again.

Remember, Barney, I told you

the cholera makes no distinctions.

[woman humming]

[woman humming]

[woman humming]

Who are you?

I might ask, miss. Who are you?

My name is Mary Lennox.

And you haven't answered my question.

Where's my servant? Where's cook?

Sadea said my servant was ill and then Sadea never came back.

Are you a relative of the Lennoxes?

I told you, my name was Mary Lennox.

My father was Mr. John Lennox

and my mother is Mrs. John Lennox.

They went away. They are always going away.

Your servants. Some of your servants became very ill.

They, they died.

The others were frightened, they ran away to the hills.

I knew it, I knew they didn't all die.

Mother's right. She says, "You can't trust natives."

They ran away. Didn't I tell you?

[scoffs]

He's a silly-looking man, isn't he?

With a silly-looking hat.

- They was identified, sir. - Well, be certain.

Mr. and Mrs. John Lennox. Check it again.

They died at the hospital, sir. No mistake.

What's up, sir? What's in there?

Their little girl. I never knew they had any children.

- Who's he? - Uh, he's my orderly.

- His name is Barney. - Why does he looks so funny?

You needn't stand up. You're an officer, aren't you?

You'd better stand.

I'm not supposed to be in here at all, you know?

If mama should catch me..

Oh.

- You never come in here, Mary? - Of course not.

Children aren't permitted in the front of the house.

Don't you know anything?

I came here once. I didn't see you.

- Is that why? - Of course, it's why.

There. She'll never see those.

I never even knew Mrs. Lennox had a little girl.

- Has she any more children? - No.

Well, can't you see?

I'm the only one here in the house.

Well, I meant, home in England, perhaps?

'Have you a grandmother? Somebody else home in England?'

Haven't you any aunts or uncles?

What's wrong with that man? He's a common soldier.

He should be standing at attention.

- Barney. - Yes, sir.

He looks funny.

Never mind about Barney.

There's something I've got to tell you.

I shan't be very good at it.

So you'll, you'll have to forgive me.

You see, I knew your mother.

She was a very beautiful woman.

I knew your father, too. He was a fine man.

But w-w-what I'm trying to say is..

- You must trust me. - They're dead, too?

Please.

Mama didn't go away, she died!

- I know how you loved her. - Stop talking!

I know how she must have loved you.

Stop talking about her. She's dead!

And who's going to take care of me?

[Mary sobbing]

[mumbling]

[clattering]

[ship horn blaring]

It was good of you, nurse, looking after so many of them

the whole long voyage to England.

Oh, they looked after themselves.

They became great friends.

[female #1] 'Poor things, all of them orphans.'

Say goodbye, Muriel darling.

- Bye, Muriel. - Goodbye, Muriel.

- Bye, Muriel. - Bye, bye.

Her grandmother hasn't got any money.

I heard nurse say so.

I hope my aunt's half as nice as Muriel's grandmother.

Your aunt, probably, hasn't got any money, either.

I'm going to live with my uncle in a great house in Yorkshire.

It has a hundred rooms.

And I shall have acres and acres of gardens

and a great many servants.

My uncle is Mr. Archibald Craven

and he has a great deal of money.

- Your uncle's a hunchback! - He is not!

- He is, he is, he is. - He isn't, he isn't!

- I heard nurse say so! - I'll cut out your gizzard!

[indistinct yelling]

No, not just as we are saying goodbye.

Can I help you?

These are the orphans from India

I presume?

- Which one is Mary Lennox? - Are you Mrs. Medlock?

- 'Yes.' - This one.

Hm. Unattractive, isn't she?

Oh, well, I wouldn't say that, Mrs. Medlock.

It's just her manner.

I'm your uncle's housekeeper.

We've a long journey. Come along.

Have you no luggage?

Unattractive, I call her.

Oh, golly.

[laughing]

[female #2] 'Children, children.'

[train chugging]

[train horn blaring]

[horses trotting]

- Mrs. Medlock. - Hm?

Are we crossing the moors?

[dramatic music]

A bad night, Mrs. Medlock.

Bad, indeed, Charles, a long and nasty journey.

- 'Mr. Pitcher about?' - 'Yes, ma'am.'

[Medlock] 'Fetch him, will you?'

'Wait here a minute, child.'

[wind howling]

[wolves howling]

Good evening, madam.

Oh, oh, oh.

Something amiss?

Oh. Oh, no.

It's-it's just that the children on the boat said

that you were a hunchback.

He doesn't want to see her.

[Medlock] 'So long as I know what's expected of me.'

[Pitcher] 'What's expected of you, Mrs. Medlock'

'is that he doesn't see what he doesn't want to see.'

Well and good, Mr. Pitcher.

He's leaving for London late tomorrow.

Her rooms are ready.

Goodnight, Ms. Mary.

[Medlock] 'Come along.'

Why, I thought he was my uncle.

Mr. Pitcher? He's just Mr. Craven's man.

Rules the roost like the high and mighty, I might add.

No better than me.

[wind howling]

[wolves howling]

Well?

What's down there? The hundred rooms?

Never you mind what's down there. Come along.

Here's where you play. There's where you sleep.

You might have a bright word.

Tore out everything for you, he did.

Painting, furnishing..

...trips to London for clothes and such.

I have my hands full, I can tell you.

You might say you're thankful.

What's down that hall?

Now, let things be understood.

You play here and you sleep there.

Down the stairs on the right is the kitchen and the outdoors.

All that, you're welcome.

But don't you go poking about the house.

Why didn't my uncle want to see me?

I came all the way from India and his light's on

and it's the queerest house I've ever seen in all my life

and he doesn't want to see me.

Well, you might say he's a queer one.

Well, I don't want to see him.

Hm, you're a queer one, too.

[kid groaning]

[kid groaning]

I heard somebody crying.

I told you, no gadding about the house.

I wasn't gadding about. I heard somebody crying.

I'm sure I heard somebody crying.

The wind off the moors, wuthering around the house

and you talk about someone crying. Goodnight.

[kid sobbing]

[wind howling]

[door opens]

- Hey, thar awake. - 'Who are you?'

Why, I'm Martha.

[chuckling] Ah..

What does thy think of thy room?

I hate it.

[laughing]

- What's so funny? - Well, uh..

If you don't like it, then look out a window.

- Look at the moors. - I hate them.

[laughing] Well, you've none seen them yet.

Thou says that because they're bare

and lonely with the winter time.

You wait till it's spring and summer

and the gorse and the heather are smelling high with honey

and the skylark making noises, ah..

What kind of language are you talking?

Yorkshire, miss.

Hm, Mrs. Medlock, she says I'll be a servant ever

what with the Yorkshire drooling from my tongue

like rancid butter.

[laughs] Rancid butter.

[laughing]

Say, but the good Lord knows

I'll never speak a proper language.

- Are you my servant? - Well, there..

Aye, uh, you might say I'm Mrs. Medlock's servant

and then, then you might say

that Mrs. Medlock's Mr. Craven's servant

and thee are..

...thy are Mr. Craven's niece.

So in a manner of speaking, I'm thy servant. Aye.

[laughing]

What's so funny?

I, I'm always laughing.

[laughing]

- Martha. - In a minute.

- Martha! - In a minute.

Eh. Eh, but thar's thin.

My pillow's on the floor. Pick it up.

What thy needs is exercise.

Fresh air, good food and exercise a-plenty.

That's what my mother says will do for the skinniest.

And she should know, my mother, she was raising ten of us.

I said my pillow's on the floor. Pick it up.

Well, pick it up by thyself

and have a bit of exercise, for starting.

I want another servant.

In India, it's the custom for servants to do as they're told

and she doesn't laugh. My servant never laughs, never!

[sobbing]

- I hate you! - Aye..

My uncle doesn't want to see me and nobody will do as I say

and I can't go anywhere.

Aye, it's, it's dreadful.

Get away from me! Go away!

There, there now.

Thar feel strange here and lonely.

After thy've had thy porridge and got thy self dressed

hey, thy can go out and play.

My brother, Dickon, will be coming up to see thee.

- Your brother? - Aye, Dickon.

Thy like Dickon.

What a one he is for growing things and the animals.

Half lives on the moors, he does.

Almost like an animal hisself.

My mother told him to go and play with that poor child

she said, all by herself

up in that great lone house.

Yes, thy'll be a right fond of Dickon.

I never saw such a servant.

Does thou think I play with thy brother?

I-I-I mean, do you think I play with your brother?

I hate him, I hate him!

I hate you! Go away!

[laughing] Aye, get thy self dressed.

[laughing]

Wait a minute.

Aren't you going to dress me?

What?

Well, in India it's the custom.

Thy cannot dress thyself?

[laughing]

Of course, I can, it's, it's just..

[door shuts]

[Martha laughing]

[instrumental music]

I do not eat porridge.

I said, I do not eat porridge.

It's breakfast.

I don't want any breakfast, Mrs. Medlock.

I'm going for a walk in the garden.

[laughing]

[dramatic music]

[birds chirping]

[bird cawing]

[cawing]

[cawing]

Well, don't be so cocky about it.

[cawing]

[cawing]

Go away, go away, go away.

[cawing]

That's frightened him. Now be the most quiet.

[imitating crow cawing]

[cawing]

Come on, did she frighten ye? Come on, then.

Come on.

Thou must be the one from India.

- I'm Mary Lennox. - Aye. I'm Dickon.

My sister, Martha, swore thy'd be black.

'At least, dark brown.'

Hmph!

That's frightened him.

What are you doing here? Where did you come from?

I came through the moor path.

I've watched ye go about the garden.

There's no way in.

- In where? - The secret garden.

'He locked the gate long years ago.'

- Who locked the gate? - The master, Mr. Craven.

- 'Thy uncle.' - What do you know about it?

I know what's said.

He locked the gate and buried the key

and ne'er a soul's been in there since.

I don't believe you. Do you know why I don't believe you?

Because there isn't any gate. I looked.

Yeah, so have I.

[imitating crow cawing]

Come on, come on. Come on, then.

[cawing]

You know everything, don't you?

Only what's said.

Who cares about this old garden? I don't.

That's why thee run about it so often?

What were you doing, hiding in the bushes watching me?

I came to play with thee.

My mother said thy might be lonely.

Well, I'm not and I don't play

with any servant's brother.

I've never heard of anything so ridiculous.

Thou can just go home. I mean, you can just go home.

[cawing]

Thou must learn not to frighten animals.

My mother sends thee a skipping rope.

- A what? - 'A skipping rope.'

'Thy can play with a skipping rope.'

Dickon, I..

[cawing]

Hey, for a young lady that took no porridge or breakfast

thar suddenly making up at tea time.

I'm not hungry, I'm just eating. Give me another biscuit.

With the rate thy going, thou'll soon resemble

something lovelier than a slat.

[laughing]

Hey, what's that?

A skipping rope. Any fool knows that.

Oh, so thy saw Dickon.

Did thy ever meet such a lad?

No, I hate him.

- So that's what you do with it. - Of course.

Any fool knows that.

Do you mean to tell me, in India they have no skipping ropes?

It's very undignified. Can you hand me another biscuit?

Aye.

Martha, why would somebody lock up a garden and bury the key?

Oh, so Dickon told thee?

I was just wondering. How long has it been locked up?

[sighs] Well, I'm just a servant maid.

I have no head for such matters.

Martha, I heard somebody crying last night when I went to bed.

'I'm sure I heard somebody cry.'

It was the scullery maid.

'Aye, it was last night.'

'Yes, she had a toothache.'

[giggles] What a fearful row.

Mrs. Medlock said it was the wind.

Oh, she did?

[Mary] 'Martha, has my uncle left for London yet?'

He leaves tonight, miss.

- Why thou ask? - I'm going to see my uncle.

I don't care whether he wants to see me or not.

You may speak to Mrs. Medlock.

This is the funniest house

I've ever seen in all my life.

Gardens locked up, rooms you can't go in to

people crying, and nobody will say anything.

I'll make my uncle explain things.

Child, thy does not know thy uncle.

[kid screaming]

[Martha] 'Mary!'

Mary!

[kid screaming]

Mary!

'Mary.'

[kid screaming]

[kid screaming]

Martha! Martha!

[kid screaming]

[gasping]

[kid screaming]

You. What you doing here? What you want?

I want to go back to my room.

Next time you'll stay where you belong.

Mrs. Medlock, I..

Please, what was in that room?

Go to bed.

[gasps]

Where have you been?

- Nowhere. - Your uncle wants to see you.

- He's leaving for London. - I don't want to see him.

Mary, your uncle wants to see you.

We're keeping him waiting.

Ms. Mary, sir.

[Craven] 'Come closer.'

- Closer. - 'Yes, sir.'

I'd hoped you might be beautiful.

[Mary] 'No, sir.'

You're welcome in this house.

I shall be leaving for London in a few minutes.

I spend as little time here myself as possible.

You'll be alone.

You'll find my being away of no great loss to you.

I, I'm not amusing, I keep to myself.

I have my books..

'I drink.'

I had hoped you might be beautiful.

[glass shatters]

Is there anything particular you want?

'No, sir.'

Is there anything you'd care to ask me?

I shall be gone a long time.

'Yes, sir. Just..'

Just what?

'Who's the lady in the picture?'

My wife. She's dead. She died ten years ago.

This is an excellent house for bitterness, for regrets

for anger against the gods.

It's a poor house for children, Mary.

But perhaps, you're equal to it. I'm not. Goodnight.

One, two, three.

One.

Two.

One.

Two.

Two.

Oh, why bother?

[cawing]

[cawing]

Oh.

Hello. I'm Mary Lennox. I'm from India. Who are you?

I'm Ben Weatherstaff and I'm the head gardener

and I come from hereabouts.

What was thou doin' beside the wall?

The wall? Uh, what wall?

Oh. Oh, I was just skipping rope. I'm always skipping rope.

Let's see thee skipping.

Well, I don't feel like it right now.

[bird cawing]

Mr. Weatherstaff, what kind of bird is that?

[Ben] 'Him? A raven.'

[chuckles] Has thee never seen a raven before?

Well, in India we have lots of other birds.

Oh, look at him.

Why, he likes me.

Thy might say it comes natural.

Thar and me, we have faces like pickles.

He likes me, he likes thee.

Does he live on the other side of the wall?

Aye, perhaps.

Have you ever been on the other side

of the wall, Mr. Weatherstaff?

Why does thou ask?

Oh, I was just wondering.

- Have you? - Perhaps.

In the old days.

How long has it been locked up?

Ten year, come summer.

Ten years?

- What of that? - Oh, nothing.

My uncle just happened to mention..

We were having a little talking.

And he said that Mrs. Craven--

He told thee about it?

N-not exactly.

Let him tell thee the rest of it.

[cawing]

Be off!

Both of thee!

Well, well, good day, Mr. Weatherstaff.

[instrumental music]

[cawing]

Stop following me. Go away!

[cawing]

It's alright as long as you don't make yourself

so conspicuous.

There's bound to be a gate somewhere.

You're disgusting.

Well, I suppose we all have to eat sometime.

They could have walled it up so there isn't any gate.

But why should he want to do that?

[cawing]

No, I'm not going to look. I saw what you did last time.

[cawing]

I'm not going to help you.

[intense music]

[cawing]

I-I-I was just digging for worms.

- He was hungry. - What's in thar pocket?

Oh-oh, my skipping rope.

That's all, just my skipping rope.

One, two, three

four, five, six

seven, eight, nine, ten..

[woman bawling]

[woman bawling]

[woman bawling]

[screams]

[kid bawling]

[kid bawling]

You're a ghost!

I'm not at all a ghost.

- Are you? - No.

I'm Colin Crane. And who are you?

I'm Mary Lennox.

Mr. Craven's my uncle.

- He's my father. - Your father?

Well, so I have a cousin.

But you can't be the one who was making all that noise.

When?

The night Mr. Craven left for London.

Oh. Oh, yes. I was having a tantrum.

A tantrum? Why, that's ridiculous.

- 'Not at all.' - It is.

I've had dozens of tantrums

and I've never made that much noise.

Of course not.

Dr. Griddlestone says I have the worst tantrums

south of the Scottish border.

It's 85 miles from the Scottish border.

- 'I looked it up on the map.' - Well, I never--

'You may ask Dr. Griddlestone.'

Why hasn't anyone ever told me about you?

Oh, they're not allowed to talk about me.

Who won't allow it? Your father?

No. I won't allow it.

They have to do what I say.

I don't like to be looked at, either.

A lady looked at me and she said once

said, "Poor child." And put her face not that far from mine.

- What did you do? - I barked like a dog.

And she ran away!

Well, I never in all my life..

Why don't you like to be looked at?

Because I'm a cripple.

Of course, you didn't know.

Yes, I'm a cripple.

I hate the word cripple. Don't you hate it?

W-well, I never thought about it, I really--

I can't move my legs.

I can't move them an inch.

I'll tell you something else.

If I live to grow up

I'll get a hump on my back.

Horrid, isn't it?

- Well, I, I really-- - It's alright.

- I shan't live to grow up. - How do you know?

Oh, everybody says so. They don't know I'm listening.

I keep my eyes closed, so they think I'm asleep.

But that's what they say. I'll never live to grow up.

I don't believe you.

Well, I don't. How does anybody know?

I don't know whether I like you or not.

And I don't believe you're going to get a hump on your back.

- Don't say that! - Well, I don't.

If you're going to get one, where is it?

Don't you dare talk like that!

Sometimes I can almost feel it!

Go away! I don't wanna ever see you again. Never, never!

No. Stay here.

I swear to goodness, I never met anyone like you

in all my life.

Didn't you? Honestly?

Doesn't anyone ever come to see you?

Oh, my father. He doesn't like to see me, though.

He doesn't come very often.

Why doesn't he like to see you?

Oh, he knows when I grow up, I'll be just like him.

He hates me.

Of course, I shan't live to grow up.

- So he knows that, too. - Oh.

Do you know what I think you are?

I think you're crazy. I do.

You and your father.

What was your mother like?

I don't know. She died when I was born.

- Then you're ten years old. - How did you know?

Well, your father said that, well..

- What? - Oh, nothing.

Hm, just that she died ten years ago.

Colin, do you know anything

about a secret garden?

A garden that's been all locked up

and no one's been into

for, oh, ten years?

I never go outdoors. I detest going outdoors.

Well, have you ever heard anyone say--

That's silly, if there was any such place

I'd have made them show it to me.

But, oh..

What happened to your mother?

She was killed.

You're a very dull person.

Colin, what do you mean she was killed?

Oh, a tree fell down or a limb or something.

It was an accident. That's her over there.

'Pull the curtain.'

'She's beautiful, isn't she?'

'Did you ever see anyone so strong-looking?'

That's enough, close the curtains.

People must do as I say. I said, close the curtains!

Don't you want to look at her?

No, I hate her.

[chuckles] You're shocked because I hate my mother.

- I am not. - 'No?'

Most people are shocked.

After all, she was my mother and she is dead.

What's that? I hate my mother.

Really?

She never let anyone see me because I wasn't pretty.

You needn't think hating your mother's so special.

But it isn't so wicked for you.

After all, your mother isn't dead.

Oh, yes, she is.

She is? Really?

You must tell me about yourself some day.

- Well, I-- - Not now.

Colin, Colin, you don't know where it was

that your mother was killed?

You act as if you know something that I don't know.

I don't like people who know things I don't know.

I don't like secrets.

It was somewhere on the grounds, that's all I know.

I'm sleepy. You may come and play with me tomorrow.

Do you know what you remind me of?

A young raja.

A raja?

That's a kind of a king, isn't it?

'In India.'

I like that.

A raja.

What did you say your name is?

Mary.

You may sing me to sleep, Mary.

[singing in foreign language]

That's a strange song.

I must ask you about it some day.

[humming]

[birds chirping]

Ah, oh.

[cock crowing]

- Are you Dickon's mother? - I am.

Thou must be Mary Lennox.

Well, thank you so much for the skipping rope, Mrs. Sowerby.

Do you think if I spoke to Dickon

Dickon would speak to me?

[laughs]

Thou might try and see.

He's caring for the little one.

[sighs]

- Oh. What's that? - A fox cub.

[Dickon] 'His name's Captain.'

Oh.

Oh.

Dickon, are you still angry with me?

When was I ever angry with thee?

Oh, good. Well, Dickon, I've got so many secrets.

- I'm dying, I'm just dying. - Thou seems most healthy.

Oh, I don't mean that kind of dying, it's just that..

Oh, Dickon, I need you terribly, terribly.

All you have to do is listen to me.

What good's a secret if there's no to tell it to?

- But first you must swear. - I swear.

Oh, good, Dickon. There's a secret boy, you know?

- A what? - A secret boy.

He lives in one of those hundred rooms.

And nobody ever gets to see him and he's ten years old

and he doesn't go anywhere and he's Mr. Craven's son.

Colin, the one that can't walk.

Why, I thought it was a secret.

Well, Mary, I've never seen him, but he's no secret.

My sister, Martha, tends him some.

Why, I was never so disappointed in all my life.

I hate you. I hate you.

- What's that? - Thar knows everything.

Now, it'd be a deal I don't..

- The garden. - The secret garden.

- Thou found the gate? - No, not yet.

[goat bleating]

Dickon, Dickon, wait for me!

[goat bleating]

It's bound to be behind those bushes.

What if there is no gate?

What if he sealed the wall up with stone?

If he had done that, then why should he bury the key?

That's not sensible.

That man, he's always working behind those bushes.

It's the only place I haven't had a chance to look.

[raven cawing]

Good morning.

[cawing]

[cawing]

Go away.

Go away, go away.

[cawing]

What ails thee?

[cawing]

You know what..

[imitating crow cawing]

[cawing]

I'm afraid they sealed the door.

Dickon.

- Oh, Dickon, we-- - Shh.

Thar?

[laughing]

Ah, true, it's dinner time.

[laughing]

[rattling]

The key, Dickon.

Oh. Open it up, Dickon.

Please.

[creaking]

[dramatic music]

[gate creaking]

[gate creaking]

It's thar and me, Mary, and none else in ten years.

Roses?

How that old bush would bloom with a bit of pruning..

Why, you could prune it, Dickon. No one would know, except us.

Lilacs.

Such lilacs.

What are lilacs?

Thou's never seen lilacs?

Mary.

In India thy never spied a lilac bush in bloom?

Thy'll see lilacs.

[water splashes]

Dickon!

Dickon, look, something's coming up already.

Daffodils.

I can't tell you what a daffodil's like

except it's yellow.

Oh, Dickon, we can take care of them.

- Aye. - We can come here every day.

We can dig around them and get rid of all those weeds.

We can make it just the way it used to be.

And nobody would know, just us.

- Oh, what a secret. - Aye.

Dickon.

Two?

Colin said his mother had an accident.

That a tree fell on her or a limb or something.

- You don't suppose? - Aye.

Just the two of them.

They were taking their tea.

Mr. Craven over there.

Oh, how dreadful.

He locked up the garden and left things just as they were.

Could be.

I always heard it was her garden.

And none came here but just herself

and the master and old Ben Weatherstaff.

- Ben? - Aye.

He tended it.

Just the two of them

taking their tea.

And then..

...the limb of the tree

falling from nowhere.

Poor Mr. Craven. What a terrible accident.

Dickon!

- Oh. - Mary.

I just didn't want to look at it any longer.

Aye.

But he couldn't have.

Colin said how his father loved her.

And if he loved her, it must have been an accident.

- It just must have. - Aye.

A man, let's say, who done a bad thing

he'd not leave his axe for all to see.

Of course, he did lock up the garden

and bury the key, but--

Well, all the same.

The master, I've not seen him.

But from all I've heard tell, he's a shy and a crippled man.

Thar's met him, Mary.

Would thar say he was the sort of a man to, to..

I don't know, Dickon.

Mary, it's ten long years.

And I can't put my mind on dead things in the spring time.

I'm not going to think about it, either.

I'm not going to think about it one bit.

[laughs] Thou's not such a bad-looking lass at that.

Why, thou's blushing like a beet.

Now, we'll need a hoe, two hoes. One for you and one for me.

You might make a list of what we need.

We have to have something to cut away all that dead stuff.

I hate dead stuff. Don't you?

Thou's an odd one, Mary.

Why, I'm not odd one bit.

I don't know what you're talking about.

It's lunchtime and I'm hungry.

I'll meet you here at two o'clock.

[gate creaking]

Dickon, did you really mean what you said about

that, that I'm not so bad-looking?

There they were. Lions all around me.

I'll finish the story some other time.

Mary Lennox, I told Martha

that if you didn't tell me stories this afternoon

I'd have a tantrum.

- But if Mrs. Medlock should-- - I'll fire Mrs. Medlock.

She has to do what I say. Everybody has to do what I say.

Now you finish that story.

Well, the lions attacked me, of course.

- And the elephants? - Oh, the elephants were tamed.

- They were helping me. - What'd you do?

Well, I hid behind the tree like this.

And the elephants all lined up in front of me like this.

The lions were over there and they all roared like this.

[imitating lion roaring]

And the elephants all went with their trunks like this.

What time is it?

It's only three o'clock. What, what happened then?

- Never mind what happened then. - You're not going to go.

- What happened then? - Well, I ran home.

The last I heard, the elephants were fighting the lions.

Your story doesn't come out very well.

Well, it's a true story.

If it doesn't come out well, I can't help it.

I forbid you to leave until

you make the story come out better.

You forbid me?

Or you might play with me, instead. Whichever you choose.

I'll play with you some other time. I'll have to meet Dickon.

- Who's Dickon? - 'Oh, a boy I know.'

- I don't like him! - 'You don't like anything.'

I do. I want you to stay here and play with me.

Oh, Colin, I don't want you to be angry with me

but I promised Dickon.

Like he's not some common, dirty little boy!

- 'He is not!' - Common, dirty! Common, dirty!

Don't you dare talk that way about Dickon!

Why, he's the most wonderful, the most..

- I'm leaving! - Here I am, ill.

I can't walk, and you won't stay and play with me.

Oh, Colin, please stop crying.

I can't help it if I cry.

I'm not happy. I want somebody to play with me.

You won't play with me. You don't like me!

Oh, stop it! I do like you!

You don't! You don't! You don't!

I can't walk like other boys, I'm ill. You don't care.

You don't even care if I'll ever live to grow up.

Oh, stop it! You'll live as long as I will!

- I won't, I won't! - You will, you will!

- And in future-- - Get out of here!

Get out of here, get out of here!

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!

I don't wanna ever see you again!

Make her go away! No one asked her here.

I can't make her go away!

You good for nothing little scamp.

Why, I could cut off your head!

You frightful child! Can't you see that he's ill?

- 'But, Mrs. Medlock--' - 'Get out of this room.'

[Medlock] 'I told you to stay away, if ever I find you here again'

I'll have to talk to your uncle. You understand me?

You're only living here by your uncle's kindness.

Did you hear what I said?

Yes, Mrs. Medlock.

Oh, I'm so ill, Mrs. Medlock.

What a wretched child.

I'll die, Mrs. Medlock. I want to die.

There, there, I've got dear Dr. Griddlestone to see you.

She wouldn't go and I couldn't get out of bed.

Poor boy.

'Our poor helpless boy.'

We'll never let this happen again.

- Will we, Mrs. Medlock? - Never.

Never.

Poor boy.

Now, have you been taking all of the medicine

that I left you last time?

Oh, yes, Dr. Griddlestone.

And I'm sure that you've kept the windows closed

and the irons.

You've kept the irons on the legs constantly?

Oh, yes, doctor.

The pulse is a trifle weak.

[instrumental music]

[dramatic music]

[gate creaking]

My garden. My very own garden.

[raven cawing]

[cawing]

Hello. Dickon will come back soon.

His spelling isn't very good, but, but he'll come back.

Then we'll help all we can.

'Maybe it'll live and grow and have a flower.'

'Just the way we like things. Dickon and I.'

[Colin screaming]

- Hurry, hurry. - I am hurrying.

We may need another hot water bottle.

Hurry, hurry.

[Colin screaming]

[footsteps approaching]

[Colin screaming]

- Oh. - It's a daffodil.

- I know. - But you don't understand.

I've never seen a daffodil before.

Thou unfeeling child, does thou not hear the noise

that's been going on since morning?

Oh, it's a tantrum.

Lord have mercy, he'll die of it.

No one ever died of a tantrum.

- Ha-ha-ha! - I know.

[Colin screaming]

[door creaking]

Oh, bother.

[glass shattering]

[Colin] 'Get out, get out, get out!'

'Get o-o-out!'

'He-e-elp!'

'I hate you!'

[glass shattering]

'Get out!'

[glass shattering]

You're doing all the wrong things.

Oh. Thy nerves.

I only said you're doing all the wrong things.

Go away, child. He's hysterical.

- 'Do you hear? Hysterical.' - Why, of all the nonsense.

You act like children.

If you're so clever, go in there yourself.

- Why, I would, but.. - Mary.

Mary Lennox, stop where you are.

You're the one that started him off

you worthless little scamp.

Ever since I found you in his room

he's been getting worse and worse.

And now he says he can feel the bump on his back.

- And whose fault is that? - Stop shaking me, Mrs. Medlock!

I'll let your uncle know. You'll be sent away!

You're making me angry, Mrs. Medlock!

I'm making you angry?

Why, you cold-hearted little animal.

What you did to that poor boy?

Breaking into his room, taunting him, teasing him.

But, Mrs. Medlock, he asked me. He wouldn't let me go.

And now you can't even tell the truth.

- Mary Lennox. - I'm in charge of this case.

- Get out! - I won't get out!

- Get out! - Wake your head up!

- See if I care. If I have to-- - 'Get out!'

- 'Ah!' - I hate you!

I hope you die!

- I hope you die! - 'Get out!'

You lied to Mrs. Medlock! You don't care what you say!

You only care about yourself! You're mean and selfish!

Stop being so proud of yourself! I'm worse than you are!

I hate you, I hate you!

I hate you!

[Colin screaming]

Everybody hates you!

'Get out, get out, get out!'

Get out! Get out!

I won't, I won't, I won't!

[screaming]

You're mean and selfish!

[indistinct yelling]

Go on, yell your head off!

- Get out! - Scream!

[screaming]

Scream! Scream!

I can scream louder than you can!

[screaming]

I told you so.

Nurse. Mrs. Medlock.

And don't start that crying again.

I can scream louder than you can

and I can cry harder, too. Although, I'm not going to.

Why, you never met anyone as bad as I am.

You don't care how I'll never live to grow up.

Oh, stop it. You'll live as long as I will.

You just say that to make people do what you say.

I will die. Don't you dare say that I won't die!

Why, you're proud that you're going to die.

It makes you feel a little special.

It makes you feel important.

- You're proud. - Nurse.

Don't you think I don't know all the tricks.

Why, I was worse the day I was born

than you are this very minute.

And don't start that crying. I won't listen.

[Colin sobbing]

I do want to die. Mary, really, I do.

- You shouldn't. - There's a bump on my back.

- I don't believe it. - There is.

I could feel it this morning.

- Well, it isn't there now. - It is.

My father always said..

Oh, Mary, I don't want to live to grow up.

Nurse?

- Show me his back. - No!

I don't want anybody to see me.

- There. - No, please!

Now, I'm not going to hurt you.

Now, there's a good boy. Just a minute.

There we are.

Now turn over.

Come along now.

That's it.

[Mary] 'Why, there isn't a bump as big as a pin.'

'Just backbone lumps. And I have those.'

Everybody has.

And if you ever say there's a bump coming up

if you ever once say it

why, I'll laugh and laugh and laugh.

Make everybody go away.

[Colin] 'Mary.'

'I'm tired. Hold my hand.'

Go to sleep.

My father always said that some day I'd be like him.

He likely believes it. Grownups can be awfully silly.

But let's not think about him.

It's been so awfully long since I've seen you.

Tell me a story, Mary.

Tell me a story about what you've been doing.

I can't, Colin.

- Please? - Well, it's a secret.

Dickon and I have a secret.

I never see anybody.

I don't have any secrets.

- Could I meet Dickon some day? - Why, of course.

I'll bring him to see you tomorrow.

Tell me some kind of story, Mary.

Well, once upon a time..

It isn't a true story, of course

but once upon a time, there was a secret garden.

Oh, it was a lovely garden

'with walls all around it'

'with vines and flowers.'

'And grownups never came there'

only children.

It was just like a make-believe garden.

Only it wasn't make-believe.

The lilacs and the tulips and the daffodils

'were the most beautiful flowers in all the world.'

'And no one could see them, except the children.'

'Oh, and the children were so happy.'

They were never mean and they never quarreled.

But sometimes they wished

that all the children in all the world

could have a secret garden

just like theirs.

[instrumental music]

[birds chirping]

[raven cawing]

[lamb bleating]

[cawing]

[bleating]

[Captain whimpers]

[bleating]

Hello. This is Dickon.

- Hello. - Hello.

She wants a bit of breakfast. She's very starving.

It was mean not to feed her sooner

but I thought thou might like to feed her.

Uh, here.

There. That's right.

Just like a baby.

[Captain whimpers]

- What's that? - 'It's a fox cub.'

[Mary] 'Dickon found it on the moors.'

His name's Captain.

He's what you might call a volunteer. Ha-ha!

Colin, can you keep a secret?

But you've got to swear it on blood or something.

- What secret? - Here.

Swear on this key that you'll never, never tell.

- Tell what? - Well..

How can I tell you unless you swear?

How can I swear unless I know

what I'm swearing about?

We can tell him, Mary.

It's just about an old garden.

And that's the key.

An old garden, full of things in bloom

and lovely smells.

And no one's been in there for ten whole years

'but just Mary and me.'

The secret garden!

Mary I thought it was just a story you were making up.

Why, I dreamed about it last night.

Aye, and Mary and me, we dreamed of nought else

since we first found it.

We dreamed how fine it could be

and the weeds all gone and the roses pruned

and none but us to see.

We must take thee there so thou may see it.

Oh, that's Dickon. He's always talking Yorkshire.

- And he gets me talking. - Must I talk Yorkshire?

No, you don't have to do anything.

Just swear that you won't tell.

And then we'll show the garden to you.

I never go outdoors.

Servants look at me and..

Anyway, that stupid old

Dr. Griddlestone's coming this morning.

He's bringing another doctor from London

and they'll probably say I'm worse.

Oh, don't pay any attention to any old doctors.

And about the servants, all you have to do

is tell them to keep out of the gardens.

They have to do what you say.

And it'd do us a big favor.

[footsteps approaching]

[cawing]

- Don't say anything. - Swear.

I-I swear.

[cawing]

[cawing]

Oh, oh..

[groans] Ooh, ooh..

[laughing]

Never in all my life have I.. Oh, oh, oh, oh..

[indistinct chatter]

[groaning]

[laughing]

[Colin laughing]

My wig, my wig..

My wig. Give me my wig.

Give me, give me my.. Oh..

My wig, my wig! My wig! My wig!

[lamb bleating]

[laughing]

[laughing]

[coughs]

I'm Dr. Fortescue.

You'll pardon me, my boy, but I practice in London.

Is all this customary on a rural call?

[laughing]

I'm beginning to understand why your father thought

Dr. Griddlestone needed a little help.

If you are the patient, and I presume you are

I wonder if you'll live to such a ripe old age.

[giggling]

- And what are these for? - I can't walk.

I don't blame you, my boy.

If I had to live in this house

I'd want to stay safe in bed, too.

[laughing]

You're old enough. Why don't you just retire?

Dr. Fortescue, I'm so ashamed.

[chuckles] What did you lose?

- What? - I thought..

- You said this boy was ill. - I beg your pardon, sir?

Why don't you sell that stuff to the rag-and-bone man?

What are you trying to do? Build a bridge?

You speak most unprofessionally, sir.

If you think that what happened this morning

to...poor Dr. Griddlestone

has ever happened before, you're wrong.

Never in this house!

I assumed such things never happened before.

If they had, he'd be a different boy.

If I speak unprofessionally, doctor

it's because I haven't the slightest hope

of influencing you.

It's my safe assumption, though, that the walls have ears

'and that the walls can understand what you cannot.'

What kind of doctor is this? He's mad.

I shall report your conduct to Mr. Craven.

You will and he'll pack you up, not me.

I diagnosed this case, accurately, I believe

when I met the father.

Examining the child was a formality.

How dare you say such things in front of the patient?

I speak in front of the patient with purpose.

Fear is a disease, fear can waste muscles

destroy men, paralyze nations.

You're not the first, my boy, nor the last.

I prescribe fresh air, exercise

wild animals and children.

And take off those irons.

I write the prescription on the wind.

You terrible children!

- The irons stay on. - You can rest assured, doctor.

- I'll take my orders from you. - Thank you, Mrs. Medlock.

It is, of course, for Mr. Craven to decide.

I'll report the whole matter to him without prejudice.

Dr. Griddlestone.

- I'm going outdoors. - You're not! You'll catch cold.

You'll allow me to go outdoors, Mrs. Medlock

or I can make myself quite difficult.

'You'll tell the servants to stay in the house.'

'Dickon will wheel me.'

Tell Ben Weatherstaff and the gardeners

to work in the greenhouses.

- I'll have no one about. - Dr. Griddlestone.

In India, Mrs. Medlock, it's a custom

to do as you're told.

That wretch!

Let him have his way.

Poor boy.

He's had a difficult time of it.

I may say I've had a difficult time of it myself.

- Oh.. - I'm good, thank you.

Oh, Dr. Griddlestone

I assure you this will never happen again.

- Good day. - Good day, Mrs. Medlock.

Good day.

[cawing]

Oh, no.

- Not again! - Ha-ha.

[bleating]

[instrumental music]

It's right in there behind those bushes.

[lamb bleats]

- Dickon, right now. - Before thy goes in--

I want to know right now.

[dramatic music]

Colin.

[Mary sobbing]

Go away, Ben.

Go to the greenhouses, Weatherstaff.

You were told to work in the greenhouses!

You were wonderful, Colin.

I'd hoped I might walk in.

[birds chirping]

- Could you wheel me? - Aye.

[lock clicks]

I was so frightened the first time

I could hardly turn the lock.

[instrumental music]

[birds chirping]

These are roses.

Those are lilacs.

Oh.

See the little lake?

I shall live forever.

I shall live forever.

[Big Ben tolling]

Send the gentleman in.

Good evening, Dr. Fortescue.

Good evening, Mr. Craven.

Sit down.

- Brandy? - No, thank you.

Last spring you went up to my country place

to examine my son.

I had your report.

- I resented it. - Naturally.

Now after some months you write me a letter.

Your fee was paid at the time of the examination.

I'd assumed that you regarded your services as ended.

I resented your report. I regard the letter as outrageous.

Naturally.

You persist in regarding me as the patient

as well as my boy.

Perhaps I should double my fee.

Why did you write me that letter?

Curiosity.

I may tell you, Dr. Fortescue

that when I engaged you, I assumed

you were a doctor of medicine.

Would it be impudent, sir

to call a physician of your standing an imposter

and a most dangerous charlatan?

It'd be impudence.

I'm an impudent man myself, Mr. Craven.

I could understand.

There is his mother. You asked.

I may tell that our marriage

was the one superbly happy experience

in my less than happy life.

And if you imply otherwise, I shall kill you!

Don't. I believe you.

For ten years, Dr. Fortescue

my sanity has been a matter of

shall we say, touch and go.

I've walked the most delicate balance

between the gods and lightning

between life and the chasm.

I have buried certain memories with utter care.

I have vilified others.

And I don't enjoy the prospect of going insane.

Your letter, Dr. Fortescue, has made my balance no easier.

That was its purpose.

[glass shatters]

You are a passionate man, Mr. Craven.

You may leave.

That's a fine boy you have up there.

You ought to go and see him once in--

I said, you may leave!

I'm not too concerned with what happened

between you and your wife.

I'm a doctor, not a detective.

I do know, though, that some kinds of memories

won't stay buried and so we have to bury the patient.

'What does concern me is the boy.'

You said in your letter I wanted him to die.

Did I? Well, I'm not too diplomatic a man.

It's a technical point, anyway.

I just suggest...well, perhaps

while you were keeping your own balance with such care

you transferred your longing to die to your son.

Leave my house! You..

You're a normal man.

Do you know what it is to be ugly

to be cursed and set apart?

To live in fear, to be hated for things you can't help?

To be pitied

to see your curse in every mirror

prying eyes in every face?

Your son is as normal as I am.

You lie!

Well, I should be going.

And it's been a fascinating case, Mr. Craven.

Give my regards to the children when you see them.

I enjoy children.

Goodnight.

Would thou call it an everlast of summer, Dickon?

Aye.

There's a smell of rain in the air.

What a fine summer it's been.

What with digging and weeding and eating

your mother's bread and jam, I'm fat like a pig.

[laughing]

Listen to the way thy talk. Why, I'm fat, too.

I haven't got a single wrinkle left in my stocking.

[laughing]

Perhaps we shouldn't laugh.

Dr. Griddlestone's getting suspicious.

He keeps asking me what we've been doing.

I can hardly get my irons on anymore. They aren't big enough.

It's Mrs. Medlock I'm worried about.

First she got suspicious because we ate too much

and then when we started bringing things from your house

and ate hardly anything at home, then she got more suspicious.

She's a suspicious woman.

Hm. Should I give her the sack?

No, that wouldn't do any good.

Your father would just come back from London.

Do you know what I think, Colin?

I think you should have a tantrum.

A tantrum?

What if he doesn't feel like it?

You don't have to feel like it.

I don't think I could have a tantrum even if I wanted to.

Colin, not even for our secret?

Just like Dickon says, I-I don't feel like it.

Men!

Thou could have one.

Somebody has to have a tantrum.

Dickon's not the sort. Thar, Mary.

Oh, dear.

I don't feel like a tantrum, either.

Oh, what's wrong with us?

[cawing]

What's wrong with him?

He's angry.

It must be the coming of winter.

[cawing]

Mary.

- Run and hide. - I can't.

- Dickon. - Quick.

[dramatic music]

Open the gate.

I hate him. I hate him.

He had his orders. I'll discharge him.

You have no right to be here, Weatherstaff.

Nor has thee. Get thee back to the house.

Fine. I suppose you'll tell Mrs. Medlock.

I've known where thy was all summer and I've said nought.

I beg of thee, I beg of thee.

Get back to the house.

I have no one working here who knows.

I can't tell you what'd happen if he found me here.

- If who found us here? - Your father.

Your father's here with some gentleman from London.

Let him not find me here. I beg of thee.

Dickon.

I hate you! I hate everybody!

[music continues]

[instrumental music]

[birds chirping]

[rain splattering]

[wind howling]

[sighs]

[door opens]

[gasps]

[sighs] Dickon.

Heaven help me from coming through the hall

and getting lost in this ghost trap.

It was easier coming up the vine.

Dickon, what is it? What's happened?

Can thy find a way to Colin's room?

Yes.

Take hold of me hand, Mary.

If I get lost in this wuthering house

I'll show them what a tantrum is.

[Colin] 'Mary.'

'I thought it was going to be my father.'

Thou hasn't seen him yet?

All this time? Then I'm not too late.

What are you doing here this time of night? What's happened?

When thou sees the father, say nought about the garden.

- Of course, I wouldn't. - I would just the same.

When I tell thee Ben's story..

- Ben Weatherstaff came to me. - Ben?

Tonight, and me in bed

and the wind howling and it's Ben off the moors.

- Dickon. - Ben.

A man so afraid I've never seen.

Afraid to tell, yet fearing to come to thee or Mary

that thy might not listen. So he came to me.

Well, what did he say?

Then there was the old table

and the broken chair

and the axe in the old oak tree.

Thy mother..

Mary and me, we knew. We never told thee.

- Dickon. - Ben was there.

He told me all. It was an accident, Mary.

We were wrong to suspect.

- Suspect what? - 'It is of no importance.'

Thy father loved thy mother like none can tell

or so Ben says. It was her garden.

And every afternoon, they took their tea under the oak

and none was there but old Ben tending the roses.

And then one day, the limb fell.

The men carried your mother back to the house

and there she died after thee was born.

Why do you have to tell me about it?

I must Colin. The garden.

Ben stayed in the garden all that night.

He can't say why, he just did.

With the sun not up yet, thy father came back.

His eyes were like bloody ghosts from the weeping

and his mind gone from him

and an axe in his hand. The axe.

'He tried to chop down the tree.'

'He tried to kill the tree'

'that killed thee mother.'

Chopping, chopping.

And the tree's stronger than

thee father's crippled back.

He couldn't chop it down, Colin

and he fell to the ground

with the axe still in the tree

and the tree not dented.

And he wept like a man crazy

and he cursed at Ben when Ben wouldn't finish the chopping.

And then it was sunup

and thee father got up from the ground

and he was a man, different and changed

'and his eyes were like ice, yet burning.'

He swore how he'd lock the garden and bury the key.

And if ever a human being laid eyes on it again

he'd see the garden destroyed forever more.

He'd tear out the vines, the roses, the lilacs.

He'd see the trees cut down and nothing left.

He'd mix salt with the earth and blight the dirt.

- That was what he swore. - Our garden.

It was ten years ago. A man can change.

'I can't believe he'd still do it.'

You don't know him!

What kind of a man is it that'd kill

a growing thing, a bush of roses

a lily bulb waiting to bloom?

I can't believe it, I'll not.

He could, he could.

I said these things to Ben

and Ben said, "But he loved her."

And I said, "What of that?

Is loving somebody a reason to kill?"

And Ben said, "How old are thee?"

[instrumental music]

Mary.

My father must have loved my mother very much.

Mother.

[sobbing]

I suppose.

I-I mean, I suppose we are not old enough.

There must be an awful lot we don't know.

Well, I don't want to know. I don't want to grow up!

[sobbing]

Mary?

You told me a story once..

...about a secret garden

that no one but children could see..

...and grownups never came.

The children were very happy.

It's a long time until we're grownups.

We're going to be happy.

Nothing's ever going to happen to our garden.

No one's ever going to know.

[footsteps approaching]

My father. Hide.

[wind howling]

You're awake.

Where were you when I arrived this afternoon?

I asked for you. No one knew.

I was out of doors.

I came back as soon as I heard you were here.

Mrs. Medlock tells me you've spent much of the summer

out of doors. I'm surprised.

The house gets stuffy.

But what do you do? You can't run and play.

I watch the others.

Mary Lennox and the neighbor boy.

- 'Where do you go?' - 'Nowhere, father.'

[Colin] 'Just out of doors.'

I'm taking you to Italy for the winter.

- To Italy? - 'Just you and I.'

[Craven] 'I've been a wretched father. I shall try to do better.'

We'll not come back to England for a long, long time.

I don't want..

I mean..

...who's to look after the house and..

So I'm selling the house.

I've brought a gentleman up from London with me.

'If he likes the house, he'll buy it.'

I shall know in the morning.

Sell the house? The gardens, everything?

Of course. Why not?

You look at me so strangely. What's the matter, Colin?

I-I don't want you to sell it.

This is absurd, you've always hated it.

Why do you want me to keep it now?

- You can't sell it! - Well, stop this nonsense.

- I'm trying to help you. - I won't leave it, I won't!

Colin, Colin, I..

I'd die, I'd die! You can't sell it.

You can't, you can't, you can't!

Stop it!

Oh, Colin, my son.

We'll go away, we'll rid ourselves of this place

and never come back.

I've shared my curse with you

and I can no more cure your poor body

than you can cure my mind.

But I swear to you, I swear before God

we'll be happy together

while there's still time.

I owe you everything a father can owe a son.

- We'll be very happy, papa. - Thank you.

We'll leave for Italy in a few days.

[door shuts]

[wind howling]

[birds chirping]

But I couldn't help wondering while I was poking about

what stories these old country houses could tell.

Century after century

generation after generation

what tragedies, what comedies they've seen.

Would you say you've poked about sufficiently?

Forgive me, I'm a man with a great deal of money

and no background whatsoever.

So that makes me a romantic.

Yes, I think I've poked about sufficiently.

- Hm. Shall we go in? - Thank you.

I'll give you my check.

Our lawyers in town will arrange the balance

and the transfer. Oh, thank you.

It's understood, however, that the check will be binding?

It's understood.

[sighs] If you had children

you wouldn't want to part with those gardens.

I have a son. He's crippled. He can't walk.

'Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that.'

I'll take the check.

What about the garden that's locked up?

You may do with it whatever you like.

I hardly dared to ask, but I hoped

you might have an outside ghost or something.

'You're a man of old family, you lock up your garden'

'just to protect your valuable plants.'

I'm a businessman and I want

a secret garden and ghosts.

If you actually expect valuable plants

you'll be disappointed.

The garden has been locked for ten years.

'No one's been in it in that time.'

It's inhabited, in all probability, by weeds.

'I beg your pardon?'

Why, it's as beautifully kept a garden as I've ever seen.

What? You saw it?

Of course. There was a ladder.

- I climbed the ladder. - You're lying!

I don't know what's the matter with you, Mr. Craven

but it's your garden.

And I tell you, it's magnificent!

I tell you, nobody has been in it for ten years!

Nobody's been in it for ten years.

[dramatic music]

- Ben Weatherstaff. - Sir?

Get me Ben Weatherstaff.

He's somewhere in the grounds, sir, yes--

Never mind. That's all.

[music continues]

I'm selling the house, Mr. Bromley, to escape

if possible, the temptation of madness.

It would seem that the gods have arranged for me

one last chance.

I've resisted as long as I can.

[music continues]

[raven cawing]

- Mr. Craven, sir. - Get away.

You must not go in there.

Get away or I'll kill you!

[cawing]

- 'The raven, Dickon.' - 'Maybe it's Ben.'

[Mary] 'Lock the gate!'

[dramatic music]

You!

Please, please, Mr. Craven, we were just leaving.

- Get away from me! - Don't do it again! Please!

- Please, Mr. Craven! - Colin! Colin!

- Colin? - Father.

It's our garden.

Please.

Please don't hurt our garden.

[birds chirping]

[birds chirping]

Papa.

Oh, Colin.

You should have come sooner.

You should've seen the lilacs.

Thou may see 'em next year, sir.

- They'll be better by far. - Next year?

Colin will be helping us prune 'em.

Thou may help us, too.

[chuckles]

[instrumental music]

[music continues]