All language subtitles for The.Jewel.in.the.Crown.S01E04.Incidents.at.a.Wedding.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

Hey!

Come on. Here, boy!

There are all the other
arrangements to be made.

I'm sorry, Mother, but I
can't let that stand in my way.

And then there's
the question of the journey.

Uncle Arthur
will be there!

- Sarah!
- Have you heard?

Tony Bishop's contracted
jaundice.

So now there's no best man.

When did you hear?

Just now.

He's in the military wing of
Pankot General.

And he'll be there three weeks,
at least,

so it's a blow.

Of all Teddie's friends,

Tony Bishop strikes me
as the most sensible.

Well, you can't change the date.

What are you going to do?

- Unless you call it off.
- Mother!

Best men are two-a-penny.

Right, I'm going up
to area headquarters

to put a call through to Teddie.

Susan, you can't!

Why not?

It's not just personal,
it's a crisis.

Dicky Beauvais will get
through for me.

Shan't be long.

I am holding on!

Hello, hold on, please.

I'm through to HQ Mirat.

I'm putting you through
to him right now.

They're putting Teddie
on the line now.

Oh, thanks, Dicky.

That's fine.

Hello!

Hello.

Hello, Teddie,
is that you?

Susan!

Quiet!

I say, what's going on?

Tony Bishop's ill.

- Ill?
- Yes.

He's got jaundice,
so there's a panic on.

Jaundice!

I say, that's rotten!

What are we going to do?

The thing is, Teddie, you'll
have to find someone else,

and PDQ,

or mother's going to say
the whole thing's off.

Oh, Lord.

Are you there, Teddie?

Well, it's a bit of a tall
order, isn't it --

finding a new best man?

Well, you'll have to think.

There must be someone who can hold your hand in Tony's place.

Hold on a bit.

All right.

Matter of fact,
I think there is.

Easy as a wink: I'll ask the
fellow I share quarters with.

He's a helpful and willing
sort of chap.

Just leave it all to me.

Listen, don't worry your pretty
little head about a thing.

- Everything's in hand.
- We haven't got much time.

I know, I know.

Teddie!

You mustn't worry!

Mirat Cantonment!

Mirat Cantonment!

Mirat Cantonment!

Mirat Cantonment!

- Hello, Mrs. Layton!
- Teddie.

Things are looking up.

You're only 25 minutes
behind schedule.

- Hello, Sarah.
- Hello, Teddie.

Gosh, you look wonderful.

Darling!

Teddie, you haven't met

Susan's Aunt Fenny
and Uncle Arthur.

Major and Mrs. Grace,
Teddie Bingham.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

I'm here to give
the bride away, they tell me.

How do you do, sir?

Well, I've got breakfast
organized.

I expect you're famished.

Don't worry about your things.

Nawab Hussein's got the luggage
Bondo-taped.

Well, If you'll follow me,

I'll steer you in
the general direction

of the station restaurant,
which is pretty good --

cornflakes, porridge,
eggs, and bacon,

and all the trimmings --
everything's on.

Right.

Well, after breakfast,
one can face almost anything.

We're lucky to be here,
you know.

If the wedding had been
one week later,

Arthur could not have come.
No, thank you.

That's all right then,
Mrs. Grace --

Saturday it is.

What about your
best man, Teddie?

All fixed -- I asked the chap
I share quarters with,

and he said he'd be glad to.

He'll be along after breakfast
to run you to the guesthouse.

His name's Merrick.
I hope you like him.

Merrick?

Doesn't ring a bell.
What is he?

A G3I.

Arthur, wasn't there
a Merrick

on General Rawlings' staff
in Lahore in '31?

It could be the same family.

It wasn't Merrick, Fenny.

It was Meerick.
Married one of the Selby girls.

Well, then I don't
know a Merrick.

Is he an emergency officer?

He got an immediate commission,
I gather.

He was in the Indian police.

- That's unusual.
- I should say.

What rank?

Captain.

Right-o, boy, I gathered that
when you said he was a G3I.

His rank in the police!

Oh, that.

Superintendent,
I think.

In what district?

He did tell me.

Is it...

Is there a place called
Sundar something?

Oh, Sundarnagar.

Oh, a backward area --
quite unimportant.

His first name's Ronald,
by the way.

He's checked things
over at the guesthouse.

The Nawab's put it at the
station commander's disposal,

so you'll have it
all to yourselves.

Shall we see the Nawab?

Why should you want
to see the Nawab?

Because there's a scandal
about him.

He fell in love with
a white woman in Monte Carlo.

Did he?
Who told you that?

I did.

I thought everybody knew.

The woman was a Russian emigre.

It was quite a cause célèbre.

The Nawab had to be rescued by
this Russian count

called Bronowsky,

and afterwards,
he brought him back to India

as his prime minister.

If he's really a count,
I'll eat my hat.

The Nawab's been under
his thumb ever since!

You still haven't answered
my question, Teddie.

I know once Aunt Fenny starts,

it's difficult to
get a word in edgeways.

I asked whether
we shall see the Nawab.

Well, Colonel
and Mrs. Hobhouse --

that's the station commander
and his wife --

say we ought to invite him
to the reception,

but it's not certain
he can come.

Because the reception's
at the club?

Oh, he's allowed in as a guest,
you know.

No, because of Ramadan --
I mean, he'll be fasting.

Oh, I should like to have
a Nawab at my wedding,

especially one
who used to be wicked.

Ah, there's Ronald now.

He might even bring me
a wedding present --

a few spare ropes of pearls.

Quite a good-looking man.

Oh, but not public school,
of course.

You can always tell.

Oh, you get some peculiar people
in the police.

I don't expect
Captain Merrick's family

would bear close inspection.

But he's quite the little
gentleman, isn't he?

And very attentive over detail.

Did you hear him tell Teddie

the luggage had already
arrived at the guesthouse?

So he's been there.

How shall we go --

you and Susan and Teddie
in one taxi;

me and Arthur, Sarah,

and Captain Merrick
in the other?

No. I'll go with Sarah
and Captain Merrick.

Then I'll feel less
like a mother-in-law.

I hope Arthur isn't going to
keep us hanging about as usual.

The cars are over there!

Oh, yes.

Mother would like you
to come with us.

Teddie's taking the others.

Yes, I see.

Shall I lead the way?

Right, we'll follow on.

Happy?

Isn't that what the bride's
supposed to be?

It is the general idea,
I believe.

Well, then I am.

Miss Layton?

I want to ride in front,
Captain Merrick.

You go in with mother.

I think I've covered
the drill for the day itself.

The chaplain's name is Faulks,
by the way,

and you'll be meeting
him later on.

Ah, we're coming
to the church now.

There'll be a small party

at the club later tonight

to introduce you
to Colonel and Mrs. Hobhouse.

I think that's about all,
Mrs. Layton.

Except, there's a young fellow

who's distantly related
to the Nawab

whose job is to see that you
have everything you want.

His name is Ahmed Kasim,
the son of Mohammad Ali Kasim --

the chief minister in
the provincial government

of 1937 to '39.

But isn't he locked up?

Uh, that's the point.

I mean, it's something
to remember

when dealing with young Kasim --

that he's not in the least
the type of westernized Indian

who thinks he's
a cut above the rest.

Oh.

We promise to be well behaved.

I beg your pardon,
Mrs. Layton.

I put it clumsily.

But the point I intended
to make was that

Kasim's an attractive fellow,

but it's as well to treat him
cautiously --

it would be unnatural if he
didn't resent us a bit.

We probably shan't have time
to let it worry us.

Uh, no.

Ah, there's the palace now.

Oh!

You're looking in the
wrong direction, Miss Layton.

I'm not looking
in any direction.

There's so much glare.

And that's the guesthouse.

The chap in the scarlet turban

is Abdul Rahmin.

He's head bearer.

The little fellow
holding his topi,

his name's Abraham --
a Christian.

And, yes,
there's Mr. Kasim.

So, Mrs. Layton drinks,
you say.

You mean in secret?

I don't know about
in secret,

but she starts first
and finishes last

and has two drinks
to anybody else's one.

I've also noticed
her behavior is erratic.

Her husband is a prisoner
of war in Germany, you say?

Mm-hmm.

And her sister, this Mrs. Grace,
is she also erratic?

No.
She is perfectly predictable.

You can depend upon her
to be rude at any time.

Oh, dear boy.

What have you overheard
her saying about you?

It seems I'm quite efficient
for an Indian.

I'd make a good maître d'hôtel

if I didn't stink
so abominably of garlic.

I doubt if Mrs. Grace would know
a good maître d'hôtel.

The English seldom do.

But she meant well.

And you do!

Oh, you must admit, Mildred,

it's easier if a man
has parents.

All there seems to be
in Teddie's case is a father

in the Muzzy Guides
who broke his neck hunting

and a mother who married
again and died in Mandalay.

Oh.

- What is it, pet?
- Have you any aspirins?

They're on
the dressing table.

It's not for Susan,
is it?

You know, this is a very
awkward time for her.

I've just been praying --

No, Aunt Fenny,
it's not for Susan.

It's for me --

my headache.

Susan's lying down,
and she's absolutely fine.

I've taken two.

Thanks.

Well.

Well, what?

I suppose she finds
all this rather a strain --

the wedding, I mean.

After all, Teddie was quite
keen on her

at one time, wasn't he?

I don't think Sarah
was ever keen on him.

And the girls,
are they more to your taste?

Tell me about
the younger sister,

the Miss Layton who isn't
to be married.

But she isn't
the younger.

Ah, that is always interesting.

I imagine she
isn't as pretty,

or perhaps more
serious-minded.

She asks a lot of questions.

Oh, is she
so very plain, then?

I find all white girls
unattractive.

They look only half-finished.

But she is better natured
than her sister.

Is that dangerous?

Why?

I understand it can be.

This kind of English person
invites confidence,

but this is a trap.

One wrong move, one hint of
familiarity on your part,

and snap, it shuts.

Are you sure you mean English --
not white?

Am I dangerous?

You're the most dangerous man
in Mirat -- everybody knows.

One risks everything
just talking to you.

But I meant English,
not white.

If we'd been subjugated
by the Russians,

I would have said Russian.

It is the position
of the English as rulers

that makes them dangerous.

The trouble is...

I can't exactly
put my finger on it...

The trouble is,

I don't think Sarah
quite believes in it --

us and India,
and what we're here for.

She questions everything
and, of course,

men don't like that.

Well, you know it's true.

And your father.

Have you kept
your promise to me

and written to him
in prison?

No.

Now, why not?

The same reason as always.

There isn't anything to say.

And every word would be read by
somebody else

before the letter reaches him.

It's very off-putting.

He's used to the idea
I'm a disappointing sort of son.

Unlike your brother?

Possibly.

It's because
you're too fond of him

that you don't write to him.

You shouldn't be afraid
of your emotions.

It's un-Indian.

All this western sophistication,
plus the cult

of nonviolence, is utterly
unnatural to you young men.

The result is emasculation.

Well, what am I to do --
raise an army

to release the prisoner
at the Fort of Ramnagar?

Oh, you could do worse.

The English would
respect you for it.

Can you stay to dinner?

No, I had a sudden invitation
from Professor Nair.

What's he up to?

Nothing he tells me about.

Perhaps you don't listen
hard enough.

Nawab Sahib expects
to be kept informed.

Is Nawab Sahib going
to the reception?

He will if I say so...

and I think I shall say so.

What are the arrangements
for tomorrow?

They are going shopping.

But in the morning
before breakfast,

Miss Layton wants to ride.

Which Miss Layton?

The inquisitive one --
Miss Sarah.

I'm expected to ride
with her, I think.

You should tell
that to Professor Nair.

Why?

He will be able to advise you
more satisfactorily than I

how to deport yourself,

out of the vast fund

of his experience.

One more thing.

Try to find out
about his visitor.

Has he got a visitor, then?

Yes, two.

One, a woman,
not identified.

The other, an elderly scholar
by name of Pandit Baba Sahib.

He comes from Mayapore

and is not unknown
to us in Mirat.

Have you had enough whisky

to see you through an evening
of fruit juice?

He is writing a commentary
on the Bhagavad Gita.

Please, don't offer
to shake hands

or don't sit where your
shadow will fall on him.

It's all rather nerve-racking.

Frankly, I came out to relax.

Can I keep my socks on?

Oh, by all means.

The floor gets so dirty.
Come.

Meet Panditji.

Like me, he's a great admirer
of your father.

This is our young visitor,

son of our illustrious MAK,

and social secretary
to the Nawab Sahib.

Most people say
I resemble my mother

rather than my father.

Why do you answer
in a foreign language?

Because I speak Hindi
rather badly.

Do you not feel shamed

to speak always the language
of your father's jailers?

No, I'm not ashamed.

I do not know
your father in person,

only I am admiring him
from a distance.

It is a face, after all,
much known in newspapers.

Is this your first visit
to Mirat, Panditji?

Oh, no! Panditji was at one time
living at Mirat,

but for the last three years
has been in Mayapore.

Yes, I see.

Then you were in Mayapore
during the riots?

What riots are you meaning?

The riots in August
last year.

Since you are knowing
English somewhat better than I,

perhaps you will correct me,

but a riot, according
to English dictionary,

refers to violent,
unlawful actions.

I remember only spontaneous
demonstrations

of law-abiding people
to protest

against unlawful imprisonment
of men without trial.

When you speak of riots, you are
speaking as the English speak.

You must speak like an Indian
and think like an Indian.

Since you were in Mayapore,
Panditji,

perhaps you knew that
English girl -- Miss Manners.

You have some personal
interest in this matter?

No, but when one
mentions Mayapore,

you automatically think
of Miss Manners and the rape.

It is not established
there was rape,

only there were arrests.

You mean the whole affair
was invented?

Simply I'm saying that to speak
of the rape of Miss Manners

is to speak of something that
is not legally established.

No case was brought to court.

The men were imprisoned
for so-called

political offenses under
Defense of India rules.

Did you know any of the men?

Yes, I knew.

They were boys of some
education.

Did you know the one who was
friendly with Miss Manners?

You are speaking
of Hari Kumar?

I think that
was his name.

Once when he returned
from England,

his aunt sought my assistance
to teach him Hindi.

He also spoke properly
only English.

You're sure he was arrested for
a crime he had not committed?

Mr. Kasim, you are not listening to what I'm telling you.

No charge was made
against these boys.

Simply, they were tortured
and defiled

in order to get them to confess.

Some were whipped and they were
forced to eat beef.

You are Muslim, I'm sorry,
but they were Hindus.

The district superintendent
was interested

only in punishing these boys,
especially Kumar,

because of his association
with the white girl.

The district superintendent
was an evil man,

Mr. Kasim.

His cruelty and perversion
were known by his men,

which is how we know of them.

It was one of his own
Muslim constables

who whispered the truth

because he was ashamed
of what had been done.

And are they still
in prison?

All are in prison --

but not, I think,
together.

Kumar alone is in the jail
in Rampur.

Now, at last, his aunt is
permitted to write

and to send some books and food.

I know these things because
I am in her confidence.

She was fond of her "English
nephew," as she called him.

You say nothing, my friend!

But I was listening
with a great deal of interest.

It is the sort of case
our young friend's father

would eagerly have taken
charge of

when he was practicing the law.

But it is not only in the courts
that justice is done.

You look hungry, Mr. Kasim.

Let me not be keeping you
and Professor Nair

from your supper any longer.

I shall retire before
you finish,

so you must allow me
to say good night.

Good night, Panditji.

Good night.

Thank goodness!

We must eat at once.

A remarkable man,

but one's routines
get so disrupted.

Do you mind vegetarian?

It's the smell of the cooking.

One has to think of everything.

Not at all.

There's something I wanted
to ask your advice about.

What's that?

I'm going riding tomorrow

with a young English girl --
Miss Layton.

Count Bronowsky told me I should
consult you

on how I should deport myself.

Oh, my dear fellow,
that's quite simple.

One stays behind,
a few paces will be sufficient.

One stays behind!

Mr. Kasim, it's funny.

I've never once heard
the muezzin

since I've been in Mirat,

and yet there are all
those minarets.

Why is it?

The wind's been in
the wrong direction, I expect.

They do call, then?

Oh, yes, they call.

Five times a day?

Five times a day, yes.

Will the Eid al-Fitr
prayers

be said in the mosque
or outside?

Outside. Why?

I read somewhere

they're supposed to be held
in the open air.

Why is that preferred?

Because of the crowds,
I expect.

The idea is wholly practical.

But I'm no kind
of authority.

Perhaps the imam at
the Abdul Kareem Mosque

would have a different
explanation.

Do you think we dare gallop?

If you'd like to.

Where to?
That ridge?

There's a nullah between.

I don't mind nullahs.

Whoa.

I enjoyed that.

Is Count Bronowsky
really a count?

Yes, I think so.

I suppose it's time
we started getting back.

Yes.

Mr. Kasim,

do you come this way
when you ride alone?

Not very often.

I'm sorry,
I didn't hear you.

Sometimes.

Do you mean she just
sneaked off?

Oh, Fenny,
what is wrong with you?

My daughters don't sneak off,
they go.

They don't have to ask
permission.

You're becoming
impossible to talk to sensibly.

You know perfectly well
why it's unwise for Sarah

to ride alone with
an Indian of that kind.

What is Mr. Kasim's kind,
Aunt Fenny?

I'm sorry --
I didn't know you were there.

I was saying I thought
it unwise for you

to ride alone
with Mr. Kasim.

Yes, I agree.

It was unwise.

We shan't go riding again.

What happened?

Nothing happened.

I meant it was unwise

because it made us
both self-conscious.

It wasn't till we set out

I realized it was the first
time I'd been alone

with an Indian
who wasn't a servant.

He only spoke when spoken to

and kept almost exactly the same
number of paces behind

from start to finish.

He's a nice enough young man

and I understand his brother's
an officer,

but these days,

one really can't tell what these
young Indians are up to,

let alone thinking.

Perhaps they find
the same difficulty with us.

Well, yes, perhaps
they do.

But we have other
responsibilities.

To establish a relationship
with Indians,

you can only afford
to be yourself

and let them like it
or lump it.

The king honored
the 4th Indian Division

when he inspected,
in the inner quadrangle

of Buckingham Palace,

the contingent which is now
visiting this country.

Colonel Scott, who commands

these splendid warriors
from India,

presents them to
their majesties.

The king and queen heard again
about some of the exploits

which won the division glory
in Libya and Tunisia.

Subadar Lalbahadur Thapa,

who had the ribbon
of the V.C.

pinned on his tunic by the king

during his majesty's visit
to North Africa,

now receives
the actual cross.

What the hell was that?!

- Are you all right?
- What the hell was it?!

Sahib, it was a bomb.

This -- did you see who
threw this stone?

I saw no one, sahib.

There was a man on a cycle
in front of the car.

He went that way!

I'm sorry, sahib.

This is not auspicious.

You're damned right
it isn't!

For God's sake, Ronnie,

is there any blood
on my uniform?

That will sponge out.
Let me have a look at that cut.

Ouch!

It may need a stitch.

It may have glass in it.

Oh, blast! There isn't time!

You can't get married like
a bleeding stuck pig!

Don't sit on a splinter,
or you'll really be in trouble.

No, when we reach the church,
I'll root out the chaplain

and use the phone to get
a doctor.

It'll mean putting the service
off for a few minutes.

Drive quickly to the church!

The bloody bastard,
whoever it was!

Bugger him and bugger the Nawab,
and bugger his bloody limousine!

Why?

Well, it's obvious,
isn't it?

A crest on the door
as big as your arse --

a bloody invitation to some...

to heave a bloody rock
through the window.

Has a substitute car
been sent?

It was offered but declined,
Nawab Sahib.

Captain Merrick insists
the damaged car

is perfectly serviceable.

Has the chief of police
been informed?

Ahmed has telephoned him,
Your Highness.

Will he think to contact
the military police,

or will he rush about the city
making absurd arrests?

Who is this Captain Merrick?

The best man, sahib.

The name seems slightly
familiar.

Some other context,
perhaps.

The ceremony and the reception
have been postponed

for half an hour,
he told me.

A stone, you say?

Please sit.

I'm afraid
I do not understand

this incident of the stone,
Dimitri.

No -- it is a puzzle.

It is 10 years

since a stone was thrown.

Do we understand correctly

that the culprit
wasn't apprehended?

That seems to be correct,
Nawab Sahib.

Then it is unlikely
he will be caught.

Oh, very unlikely.

One man isn't usually
responsible

for such an incident.

Several decide,

one acts.

What is important is
why the stone was thrown.

Or to put that another way,
sahib, at what?

Or whom?

Very well.

At whom, then?

Well, as Your Highness says,

it's 10 years since
a stone was thrown.

A Muslim subject would not
throw one during Ramadan.

Your Highness's Hindu
subjects are content.

Ergo, the stone was thrown
not at the car,

which bore your crest,

but at the occupants --

or one of them.

Who were?

Captain Merrick
and Captain Bingham.

British officers.

Due to leave Mirat next week
for special training

prior to active service
in the field.

And our guests.

Beg pardon, sahib.

Captain Bingham is not a guest.

He's the groom.

But that is worse!

It is a great mischief.

They have given me
a beautiful gift --

the poems of my
kinsman Gaffur.

And we reply with a stone?

What am I to say
when I meet them?

That they have Mirat's
hospitality,

but not Mirat's protection?

I shall want a full report.

Hmm.

It will be as full as possible.

Your Highness can only
express your regret.

Your Highness might add
that you are astonished

and pained that such
a thing should happen in Mirat.

Even last August,

there were no anti-British
demonstrations here.

The police have been active
in smelling out agitators

and sending them back
where they came from.

The incident of the stone
this morning

is, therefore, a mystery.

If you're ready, sahib,
I think we should go.

In the circumstances,

it might be a proper gesture

to be at the reception
early rather than late.

Very well.

Hello, Mrs. Bingham!

I wanted to say it first.

I couldn't stop shaking.

Oh, darling mummy, did it show?

I felt everybody could see.

No.

Ooh.

I was crying.

Bless the bride.

Still it sounds funny --
"Susan Bingham."

Oh, you'll get used to it.

Anyway, you'd better.

Come and sign up.

Just right,
Your Highness.

They will observe, Dimitri,

that I do not waste
my riches on my clothes.

But they may think
that you are the Nawab.

Oh, no, sahib.

They will see
that I am but Bronowsky.

A wasir must dress to do honor
to the state,

but you are the state.

I'm sorry, sir,
I must ask you to wait.

His Highness the Nawab
cannot be kept waiting.

Special security, sir.

There's been an ugly incident.

Yes, we know.

Tedious.

But Your Highness may consider
this serves some purpose.

The disrespect, Your Highness,

perhaps will cancel out
the incident of the stone.

Yes, that's true.

And I have remembered
something...

on the way here in the car,
the name Merrick...

and what it means to me.

I've been here
for four weeks now.

Oh, yes?

Miss Layton, excuse me,

have you seen
your mother and uncle?

Mother was here
a few minutes ago. Why?

Well, I think they'd
better be found.

One of the M.P.s
brought me this.

I'm afraid he's stopped
the Nawab from coming in.

Stopped him? Why?!

I suppose because
he's an Indian.

I have to go and start
putting it right.

But if your mother and uncle
could be found

and asked to come,
I'd be grateful.

I think I can probably find
Major Grace,

if you'd scout around
for your mother.

And I'll try and keep him happy
in the anteroom.

Actually,
we're delighted with

Wavell's appointment as viceroy,

though Tom says that with
Dickie Mountbatten

running the Siak, a lot of
the top brass in Delhi --

Mother! Sorry, Mrs. Hobhouse.

The Nawab's arrived.

Oh, my dears,
down tools, fly!

He's an old dear,
but terribly hard going.

I do hope they think
the red carpet's for him.

I'm afraid he won't.

He's been refused entry.

Refused entry?

I don't understand.

My dear,
whatever do you mean?

Well, the M.P.s stopped
him coming in.

Captain Merrick's gone
to find Uncle Arthur,

and the secretary wants us
in the anteroom.

But he can't have
been refused entry.

Well, surely they were warned?

Now, hold on.
This is our job.

You stay here with Sarah,

and my husband and I
will bring him out to you.

If it really has happened,

then this is club or station
business and not yours.

You stay here on the lawn.

Susan and Teddie are here.

We'll smooth his feathers down
and bring him out to you.

I think Mrs. Hobhouse
is right, Mother.

Come on.

What happens now?

This is turning out to be one
of the most jinx-ridden affairs

I've ever been mixed up with.
Where's Fenny?

I'd swear half that gang
on the terrace

are ordinary members of the club
just muscling in.

I warned the contractor he won't
get a penny over the quotation.

He's making a packet as it is.

I say, cheer up, Mildred.

What?

You look half asleep.

I'd better warn
Susan and Teddie.

Aren't we going to the anteroom?

Mrs. Hobhouse thought it better
if we stayed here

and she and Colonel Hobhouse
brought the Nawab out.

Good idea.

I say, isn't that him now?

Must be.

Extraordinary.

Looks like some
downtrodden munshi.

Ah.

That's Count Bronowsky
with the eye patch.

He's supposed to have been blown
up by a bomb in St. Petersburg.

But unkind people say
he lost that eye

peeping through keyholes.

Mrs. Layton,

His Highness Nawab --

Sir Ahmed Ali Gaffur
Kasim Bahadur.

How do you do?

I'm so glad
you were able to come.

Mrs. Layton wishes me
to tell you

how deeply she appreciates
your kindness

in making the arrangements
for herself

and her family
at the guesthouse.

Yes.

Indeed.

Your Highness,
may I introduce you...

to the bride and groom?

My younger daughter, Susan --

now Mrs. Bingham.

Thank you for coming
to my wedding.

- Edward Bingham.
- How do you do, sir?

Your Highness, if I might
present Major Grace,

my uncle...

He was very pleased
with the book.

Oh, yes -- Gaffur.

I'm glad.

It was a bit of luck.

What was a bit of luck?

The poems of Gaffur.

Just something we bought
for the Nawab.

Someone in Kashmir told us
Gaffur was a kinsman of his.

We wouldn't have known
otherwise.

What did Gaffur write about --

roses and moonlit gardens,
jugs of wine?

That's Omar Khayyam.

No, it's just Persian.

I mean, they all wrote
like that.

Roses and deserts and moonlit
gardens fit the bill,

from what I remember.

Did you have to learn him
as a boy?

"Read" would be more accurate.

I never learned anything
my teachers thought important.

I know what you mean.

I never saw the importance
of anything I was taught.

I was the sort of child who asks
why the cat sat on the mat.

My teachers said I shouldn't
exhaust my curiosity

on the self-evident.

Then you're in the right place.

In India, nothing
is self-evident.

Actually, that's something
I feel bound to disagree with.

I'd say things that
are self-evident

are common to all countries.

What's been going on?

Nothing's been going on,
Aunt Fenny.

The Nawab's arrived.

Well, I know that!

People are saying he had
difficulty getting in.

What a chapter of accident.

I've been putting out
Susan's going-away things.

I can't find the hatbox.

Oh, it must still be in the car.

I'll go and see.

No, I'm sure Captain Merrick
won't mind.

The hatbox,
we think it's still in the car,

the one Sarah and I
came in.

Yes, I know where it's parked,
Mrs. Grace.

I'll check.

What shall I do with the box,

bring it to you
or take it to the annex?

If you bring it to me --

well, whatever you think,
so long as it's found.

God knows what they'll do
if it's not there or stolen.

There wasn't a servant in sight
in the annex just now.

Anyone could've walked in.

Now, I must meet the Nawab!

Count Bronowsky?

Hmm?

May I introduce my sister,
Mrs. Grace?

My dear Mrs. Grace,
delighted to meet you.

Ah, there you are,
Captain Merrick.

Performing another of
the onerous duties of best man?

It's just a hatbox.

You're a man for detail,
I can see, like me.

Was it confetti?

You are married?

No.

Neither am I.

They say it's significant.

Tidy people are always trying
to wipe the slate clean.

I am sorry about the incident
this morning.

You were not hurt yourself?

No.

Apart from the scratch
on Captain Bingham's face,

the only damage
was to the Nawab's car.

Is there something you want,
Count Bronowsky?

Yes...

the answer
to a question.

But the question is impertinent.

I hesitate.

Please don't.

Well, I have been wondering
if you thought, perhaps,

that the stone
was thrown at you.

Why should you wonder that?

Mrs. Grace has just told me
you were in the Indian police.

That's quite true.

I'll shoulder the responsibility

if it helps you to explain
the damage to the Nawab's car.

My dear Captain Merrick,
you totally misunderstand

the reason for my waylaying
you like this.

Yes, well, I realized it wasn't
a chance meeting.

Oh, quite so.

I came to look for you.

Er, surely...

you are the Merrick

who was district superintendent
of police

in Mayapore last August

at the time of the riots

and the rape of the English
girl, Daphne Manners.

How do you arrive
at that conclusion?

I deduce it.

My deduction is correct?

You are that officer?

I see no reason to deny it.

Good.

You see, my conversation
with Mrs. Grace

led to a small gaffe
on my part.

She mentioned that you had
been DSP in Sundarnagar,

which I take now to
be the district to which

you were transferred
after the Mayapore affair, hmm?

I was surprised.

I said, "But surely
he was the Merrick

who was DSP in Mayapore

at the time of the riots
and the rape."

I'm afraid she was intrigued.

I thought it only fair
to have a word with you

before you returned.

It's a bit of a nuisance.

It can't be helped.

The notion came to me
so very recently --

on the way here in the car.

I remembered the report I had

from Mr. Kasim
on Thursday morning,

and, suddenly, it rang a bell.

Tell me, does the name
Pandit Baba

mean anything to you?

As a matter of fact,
it does.

Please tell me what.

He's a so-called venerable
Hindu scholar

who incites his young disciples
to acts of violence --

against Muslims, against us --
against anybody

that Pandit disapproves of --
and never gets caught himself.

In Mayapore, I couldn't lay
a finger on him.

Then you'll be interested
to know

that Pandit Baba
is in Mirat.

And you believe he was behind
the incident this morning?

Oh, I think so,
don't you?

Not that we shall be
able to prove it.

But he is in touch,
my spies believe,

with very many people
throughout India.

Aren't you exaggerating?

Am I?

Was the stone this morning
the first evidence you've had

that you've been carefully
tracked down

since leaving Mayapore?

To Sundarnagar, perhaps.

Even Mirat.

It may be as you say.

Doesn't bother me.

This is their last opportunity.

They can hardly follow
where I'm going.

Unless some sepoy
has been bribed

to put a bullet
through my head.

I don't think

killing you is the idea.

As you say, Mirat is
their last opportunity.

The wedding ceremony
would have proved, er,

an excellent background
for something colorful,

but they have given us
only a stone.

Tell me, did it pass through
your mind, I wonder,

that acting as best man

might bring your persecutors
out into the open?

No.

It was the other way round.

I agreed to be best man

and then realized I was probably
the worst possible choice.

All this is something
I'd prefer to forget.

I'm sorry you've identified me.

Oh, my dear fellow, why?

If I correctly judged
Mrs. Grace's reactions

to my unintentional
disclosure,

you are now an object
not only of interest,

but of admiring curiosity.

- Ha.
- We must go back.

- I shall have to, I'm afraid.
- I'm sorry to have kept you.

If you're ever in Mirat again,
I hope you will let me know.

We might have
a longer chat.

- Of course.
- Ah.

We may find much in common.

Would you, for example,
describe

that young man over
there as beautiful?

Yes, I think I...

Hmm?

Well, it doesn't matter.

Come.

Let's go in.

He was in love with her.

A woman from Mayapore told me
it was well known at the time.

Must have been awful for him

when she became infatuated
with one of those Indian boys.

This woman said he looked
positively ill

when Miss Manners
was assaulted.

He can't have liked
Count Bronowsky remembering it.

Did you see his face when he got
back with the hatbox?

Stop it, Aunt Fenny!
Stop it!

I'm trying --

trying to pretend
that this is a nice day!

I'm trying to remember
I'm being married to Teddie!

My dear child...

We've got 15 minutes,
Mummy!

Well, what have I done?

Nothing, Fenny.

It's what you were saying,
not doing.

Hardly a suitable subject
in the circumstances, was it?

Oh, dear, yes, I do see.

Oh, poor pet.

What are you looking
for, Sarah?

A button came off.

Oh, I'll find it.

Milly, you pack the dress away
and let Sarah

get on with
her own changing.

All the same,

he must have been nearly
out of his mind

when those men got away with it.

I told Count Bronowsky
you'd been moored next to

that extraordinary woman's
houseboat

and heard that revolting
baby crying.

It's like an Indian slum.

Aunt Fenny, I just don't
understand you.

Here it is!
Milly, put it in your handbag.

What do you mean, Sarah,
you don't understand?

You're still talking about
that Manners business.

But Susan can't hear.

That's not what I mean.

You're quite prepared to gloat
over all the details,

every last juicy bit.

Well, I was in that slum,
as you call it.

I spent a whole hour talking
to that extraordinary woman.

I even looked at that
"revolting" child.

Of course, it wasn't a slum
and the baby wasn't revolting,

though I'd agree
about Lady Manners.

She isn't ordinary.

You went to see her?!

What for?

To apologize for us.

Perhaps the rest was just
curiosity --

like yours, Aunt Fenny.

Did you know about this, Milly?

Yes, I knew.
Sarah told me afterwards.

And did you approve?

I told her to keep it
to herself.

Does it matter now?

May we just concentrate

on getting Susan
safely on the train?

Well, you astonish me,

really you do.

Apologize for us!

My dear child,
sometimes you worry me.

You worry us all very much!

Yes, I know.

I worry me, too.

Shall I put Susan's veil
in my case?

There'll be more room.