All language subtitles for 2Last Man Standing.S090E15.Chiadventures of sherlock holmes part 1 Bang.eng

LENFILM

THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
AND DR. WATSON

ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES

Part One

Starring

SHERLOCK HOLMES - Vasily Livanov

DR. WATSON - Vitaly Solomin

Mrs. Hudson - Rina Zelenaya

Also...

Irina Kupchenko, Nikita Mikhalkov,

Alla Demidova, Svetlana Kruchkova

Alexandr Adabashian,
Borislav Brondukov

Sergei Martinson, Evgeny Steblov

Oleg Yankovsky

O. Belov, D. Bessonov, O. Palmov

A. Hudeyev, R. Chirov and others

Well, Watson, what do you make
of this stick?

I believe you have eyes
in the back of your head.

My dear friend, if you read my treatise
on organs of perception of detectives...

...you would know that
they have got special

heat receptors at the
tips of their ears.

Which is to say I do not have eyes
in the back of my head.

He can see your reflection
in the coffee-pot.

To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S.,
from his friends of the C.C. H...

...and the date "1884".

What do you make of
the owner of the stick?

I think that Dr. Mortimer
is an elderly medical man.

I suppose he is...

- ...a country practitioner.
- Why so?

Because this stick, though
originally a very handsome one

has been so knocked
about that I can hardly

imagine a town
practitioner carrying it.

And then again, there is the engraving.

I should guess that the letters "C.H."
Probably stand for the local...

...hunting club.

Dear Watson, you have mastered
my method of deductions but

I am afraid, my dear Watson, that most
of your conclusions were erroneous.

A presentation like this to a doctor
is more likely to come from a Hospital.

The letters 'C.C.H.'

Make me think of
"Charing Cross Hospital".

- You may be right, you may be right.
- Let's move a step forward.

A doctor who is
well-established in a London

practice would not drift
into the country.

More likely he was a house-surgeon
or a senior student.

He left London 5 years ago -
the date is on the stick.

So, my dear Watson,
your grave, middle-aged

family practitioner
vanishes into thin air.

And there emerges an amiable
young fellow...

under thirty, unambitious,
absent-minded,

As only an absent-minded man could
wait a whole hour in our room

and then leave his stick.
And he...

...is very fond of his dog.

Judging by marks of its teeth
on the stick...

it is larger than a terrier...

...and smaller than a mastiff.

As to the latter part, there are
no means of checking it.

Elementary, my friend. It is
a curly-haired spaniel.

A spaniel? Did you say
a curly-haired spaniel?

Exactly, a spaniel.

You insist on it being a spaniel?

Mr. Holmes, your yesterday's
visitor is here.

Yesterday he left his stick and today
he has brought his dog with him.

I am so very glad!

I was not sure whether I had left
it here or in the Shipping Office.

- A presentation?
- Yes.

From Charing Cross Hospital?

From my colleagues on the
occasion of my marriage.

Dear, dear, that's bad.

I had hardly expected,
Mr. Holmes...

so dolichocephalic a skull

or such well-marked
supra-orbital development.

Your skull would be an ornament
to any anthropological museum.

I am flattered.

I consider you the second highest
expert in Europe...

Indeed, sir! May I inquire
who has the honor to be the first?

To the man of scientific
mind the work of

Monsieur Bertillon must
always appeal strongly.

But as a practical man of affairs it
is acknowledged that you stand alone.

I trust, sir, that I have not
inadvertently...

Just a little.

I have in my pocket a manuscript.
It is an old manuscript.

Early eighteenth century,
unless it is a forgery.

Amazing! How can you say that, sir?

You have presented
an inch or two of it

...to my examination all the time
that you have been talking.

I put that at...

- ...1740.
- The exact date is 1742!

This is a family treasure.

It was committed to my care
by Sir Charles Baskerville,

whose sudden and tragic death
some three months ago created...

...so much excitement in Devonshire.

I was a personal friend as well
as a medical attendant to sir Charles.

He was a strong-minded man,
shrewd, and practical man.

Yet he took this document
very seriously.

The manuscript is very short. With your
permission I will read it to you.

Of the origin of the Hound of the

Baskervilles there have
been many statements.

Yet as I come in a direct line
from Hugo Baskerville...

...and as I had the story from my
father, who also had it from his,

I have set it down
as is here set forth.

And I would have you believe, my sons,
that no ban is so heavy

but that by prayer and repentance
it may be removed.

It chanced that our ancestor
Hugo came to love

(if, indeed, so dark a passion may be
known under so bright a name)

The daughter of a
neighboring yeoman. One

dark night he stole down upon the farm

and carried off the
maiden, her father and

brothers being from
home, as he well knew.

The maiden was placed
in an upper chamber,

while Hugo and his friends
drank downstairs.

In the stress of her fear the lass
did a desperate thing.

By the aid of the growth of ivy
she came down from under the eaves,

and so homeward across the moor
towards her father's farm.

Some little time later Hugo left
his guests to visit his captive alone,

but found the cage empty
and the bird escaped.

Then, he became as one
that hath a devil.

Hugo ordered to put the hounds
upon her and off went the pack.

Hugo got into the saddle and followed
the dogs across the moors.

Revelers were unable to quickly
understand what the haste was about.

Finally the whole of them
took horse and started in pursuit.

They had gone a mile or two when the
drunken squires came upon the hounds.

These, though known
for their valor, were

whimpering in a cluster
around the horses.

The company had come to a halt.
The torches lit upon a clearing,

and there in the center lay
the dead maiden.

And then hair rose upon the heads of
the sobered daredevils.

Standing over Hugo, and plucking
at his throat, there was a foul thing.

It was a great, black beast,
shaped like a hound.

The beast turned its blazing eyes...

...and dripping jaws upon them.

None of them remembered
how he got home.

To that Providence, my sons,
I hereby commend you, and I counsel you

by way of caution to forbear from
crossing the moor in those dark hours

when the powers of evil are exalted.

Do you not find it interesting,
Mr. Holmes?

It is... to a collector
of ancient tales.

Now then, Mr. Holmes. This is
the Devon County Chronicle

of May 14th of this year with
a short account of the facts

elicited at the death
of Sir Charles Baskerville.

The death of Sir Charles Baskerville,

whose name has been mentioned as
the probable Liberal candidate for

Mid-Devon at the next election,
has cast a gloom over the county.

Being himself childless
and single, it was

sir Charles's openly expressed desire

that the whole countryside
should, within his

own lifetime, profit
by his good fortune.

And many will have personal reasons
for bewailing his untimely end.

On the basis of
the post-mortem examination

coroner's jury returned a verdict of
sudden death from natural causes.

So what?

Quiet, Snoopy.

I don't believe one single word of it!

While I was examining the body
in the yew alley, I noticed footprints.

A man's or a woman's?

They were the footprints...

...of a gigantic hound.

Did any one else see them?

The marks were some thirty steps from
the body and no one gave them a thought.

I don't suppose I should
have paid attention

to them had I not known this legend.

You say the footprints
were very large?

Enormous.

- But they did not approach the body?
- No.

I understand that the yew hedge
is penetrated at the far end by a gate?

Yes, the wicket-gate
leads on to the moor.

Now, tell me, Dr. Mortimer,
and this is important,

Were those the only marks
besides those of Sir Charles?

No, there were also the
footprints left by

his butler Barrymore,
who found the body.

You interest me exceedingly.

Another point.
Was the wicket-gate closed?

Not only closed, but padlocked.

Was anything found
by the wicket-gate?

It's hard to discern anything
on the well-trampled snow.

Sir Charles had evidently stood by the
wicket-gate for five or ten minutes.

How do you know that?

Because the ash had twice
dropped from his cigar.

Did you examine the body?

No evidence of violence.

And the post-mortem?

A long-standing organic
disease of the heart.

We shall take up this case.

Mr. Holmes, there is
a realm in which the

detectives and the
police are helpless.

Local people told me that before
the tragic death of Sir Charles

some of them had seen a terrible
creature upon the moor

which corresponds exactly to the
hell-hound of the legend.

I assure you that there is a reign
of terror in the district.

In a modest way I have combated evil,
but to take on...

the Father of Evil himself would,
perhaps, be too ambitious a task.

What exactly are you asking me to do?

I haven't requested
anything of you so far.

Why then, have you come here,
Dr. Mortimer?

To get advice.

Tell me, what I should do
with Sir Henry Baskerville

who arrives at Waterloo
Station in exactly...

...one hour and a quarter.

- He being the heir?
- Yes, he arrives from Canada.

There is no other claimant?

Sir Henry is the last
of the Baskervilles.

We shall be waiting
for you and the heir.

And don't frighten sir Henry
in advance.

My late husband used
to say that this one

was the most detailed
atlas of Britain.

Here in this volume you'll
find Devonshire.

- Thank you. You are so considerate.
- That's true.

Has you visitor left his cane again?

This is the place that interests us.

That is Baskerville Hall
in the middle.

With a wood around it, mark it.

The yew alley is not marked here,

But I fancy it must stretch along this

line, with the moor,
upon the right of it.

This small clump of buildings here
is the hamlet of Grimpen

where, I take it,
our friend Dr. Mortimer

has his headquarters.

Then about fourteen miles away...

Right here

the great convict prison
of Princetown.

There are only a very few
scattered dwellings.

And everywhere between
them extends the moor.

It must be a wild place, Watson.

You are thinking about the case?

- I can't get rid of the thoughts.
- What do you make of it?

It is very bewildering.

You can't be more right, Watson.

Oh, who are you?

I am Mrs. Hudson, sir.

Glad to meet you.
Good morning.

No, no, this is a saddle, I'll
leave it here. You may go. Go now.

Good morning, gentlemen.

- Welcome to Great Britain.
- Thank you, Mr...

Good morning, Mr. Holmes!
I've recognized you.

The legends about your
feats have reached

us on the other side of the ocean.

And you must be Dr. Watson.

I am not a connoisseur of literature,
but your writings...

Oh, my dear friends, I am so happy!

Only the weather is too hot in London.
You know, I left two weeks ago...

...and it was raining and snowing, but
here it is almost like in the Tropics!

- You cane.
- Damned forgetfulness. Good afternoon.

How has the land of your
ancestors met you?

- Great! I...
- With puzzles.

- The letter.
- Oh, yes.

I got a very strange letter.
I must say I know no one in London,

...and still the letter
was in my hotel room.

Sherlock Holmes!

"As you value your life or your reason
keep away from the moor."

Anonymous.

The word "moor" only
is printed in ink.

What do you make of it,
Dr. Mortimer?

You must allow that there is nothing
supernatural about this, at any rate?

But it might very well
come from someone...

...who was convinced that
the business is supernatural.

What business? It seems to me that
all you gentlemen know more than I do.

That's why I'd like to...

Sir Henry, when the time comes
you shall share our knowledge.

- I see.
- Take my word for it.

Gentlemen, let us confine
ourselves for the

present to this very
interesting document.

The words were surely cut out
from "the Times" leading article.

Do you have yesterday's
evening Times, Watson?

I read yesterday's Times.
There is nothing

there about the arrival of Sir Henry.

There couldn't be anything
because I've just arrived...

Sir Henry.

Tell me, Dr. Mortimer,
could you tell the

skull of a Negro from
that of an Esquimau?

That is my special hobby.

The supra-orbital crest, the facial
angle, the maxillary curve...

I do have my special hobby too.

There is as much difference to my eyes
between the leaded bourgeois type of

a Times article and the slovenly print
of an evening half-penny paper

...as there could be between your Negro
and your Esquimau. - I understand.

A Times leader is
entirely distinctive.

So someone cut out this
message with scissors?

Nailscissors.

But why is the last word
written by hand?

That is elementary, Watson.
He could not find it in print.

- What else can you say about it?
- There are one or two indications.

The words are not glued on in
an accurate line. That may point

to agitation and hurry upon
the part of the cutter.

Then I am almost certain that this
letter has been written in a hotel.

Why?

You see, Doctor Mortimer,
a private pen and ink-bottle...

...are seldom allowed to be
in such an awful state.

Sir Henry! Sir Henry.

- Yes? What?
- Now it is your turn.

Now tell us, has anything
else of interest

happened to you since you
have been in London?

Nothing.

Mr. Holmes, I only just
arrived in London.

Ah, Dr. Watson, you know,
I have spent nearly all

My childhood and youth in
the States and in Canada.

I studied there.

I say, I... I lost
one of my boots.

You asked if anything had happened.
I lost my boot.

Sir Henry, you will find your boot.

- I just thought it might be curious.
- You must have mislaid it, that's all.

Don't think that I pity
them, gentlemen.

It is that I only bought
the pair last night

in the Strand, and I
have never had them on.

You put out new boots to be cleaned?

Not exactly. They were tan boots.

I don't much like this color
and I left a note that they...

...be varnished with black wax.
So that they be black.

But why didn't you buy black boots?

Why, Sir Henry?

And what is strange about it?
What are you driving at?

What do you mean,
Dr. Watson?

Watson, it is becoming interesting.

Look to the right.

We'll try to have
a good look at this man.

Damn, he noticed us.

- Who was the man?
- I have not an idea.

- Did you see the face?
- I noticed the beard.

Me too. And most likely it
is false.

- A spy?
- I think so.

Baskerville has been very closely
shadowed since he has been in town.

How else could it be known that he
stopped at the Northumberland Hotel?

Are they playing me for
a sucker in this hotel?

For a sucker?

For a sucker.

If that chap can't find my missing
boot there will be trouble!

Good afternoon, gentlemen.
Still looking for your boot?

Good afternoon, Holmes.

I can take a joke with the best,
but they've got a bit over the mark.

Last night they took one
of my new ones, and

to-day they have sneaked
one of the old.

Nowhere in the world
in no other hotel...

...has anything so mad
and queer happened to me!

- Good morning, Watson.
- Good morning.

Dr. Mortimer, did you notice,
that you were followed this...

- ...morning from my house?
- Followed! By whom?

That, unfortunately, is what
I cannot tell you.

Try to remember if you have among your

neighbors or acquaintances
in the village...

...any man with a beard?

Why, yes. Barrymore, Sir Charles's
butler, is a man with...

- ...a full beard.
- And where is Barrymore now?

He is in Baskerville Hall.
The house is in his charge.

That can be easily checked.
We shall do the following.

We shall send two wires. One
to Barrymore to Baskerville Hall.

'Is all ready for Sir Henry?
' The second

will be sent to the
postmaster In Devonshire

with instructions to be delivered
personally to Barrymore.

If absent, return wire
to Northumberland Hotel.

By the way, who is this
Barrymore, anyhow?

The Barrymores have looked after the
Hall for five or six generations now.

Did Barrymore profit at
all by Sir Charles's will?

Yes.

He and his wife had
5 hundred pounds each.

Did they know that they
would receive this?

Yes; Sir Charles was
very fond of talking

about the provisions of his will.

Very interesting.

I hope that you do not look with
suspicious eyes upon everyone...

...who received a legacy
from Sir Charles?

I also had something left to me.

About a thousand pounds.

And how much was the inheritance?

A million.

Dear Mortimer...

...It is a stake for which any one
might well play a desperate game.

Yes.

Now it is absolutely clear to me
that if Doctor Watson agrees to...

...accompany you to Baskerville Hall,
Sir Henry will feel much safer.

And you...

As you know, Watson, I am held back
in London by urgent matters.

And you will report to me on a daily
basis. If matters came to a crisis

I should endeavor to be present
in person to help you.

- So far we have only one thread.
- The cabman?

- Yes.
- What a pity we did not get the number!

Not we, but you, my dear friend.

- Hello, Butler.
- Good afternoon, sir.

I have some recollection that you had
among your boys a lad named Cartwright.

- He showed much ability.
- Yes, sir, he is still with us.

- Could you ring him up?
- Cartwright!

And I should be glad to have
change of this 5-pound note.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes
- Glad to see you, Cartwright.

Let me have the Hotel Directory.

This is the list of 23 hotels
in the neighborhood of Charing Cross.

Yes, sir.

Look at it carefully and
remember the names. Got it?

Yes, sir.

You will visit each of these in turn

In each case you will give the
Outside porter 1 shilling.

- Here you are, sir.
- Thank you.

Here are 23 shillings Cartwright.

You will tell him that you want
to see the waste-paper of yesterday.

You will say that...

...an important telegram has miscarried.

But what you are really looking for
is the center page of the Times

...with some holes cut
in it with scissors.

Here is the article.
Can you remember it?

Yes, sir.

Excellent. The outside porter
will direct you to the hall porter,

to whom also you will give a shilling.

23 shillings more.

The chances are slim, but
let us hope we are lucky.

There are 10 shillings over
in case of emergencies.

Let me have a report by wire at
Baker Street before evening. That's all.

Yes, sir.

And now, it only remains
for us to find out

by wire the identity of
the cabman, No.2704.

This way please.

I got a message from the
head office that a gent

at this address had been
inquiring for No.2704.

I've driven my cab this
7 years and never a

word of complaint. So I
decided to go myself.

Let them tell me to my face
what they had against me.

I have nothing in the world against you,
my good man. On the contrary...

if you will give answers to all
questions put to you in this house...

...you'll get half a sovereign.
This way, please.

One never knows his luck...

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon, sir.

Tell me all about the fare who

came and watched this house at 10
o'clock this morning and afterwards

followed the two gentlemen
along several streets.

Why, there's no good
my telling you things,

for you seem to know as
much as I do already.

How would you describe him?

He was dressed like a toff,

and he had a black beard. I don't know
as I could say more than that.

Color of his eyes?

No, I can't say that.

- Two wires, Doctor Watson.
- Thank you.

"Visited 23 hotels,

but sorry, to report unable to
trace cut sheet. Cartwright."

"Have just heard that Barrymore
is at the Hall. BASKERVILLE."

There go two of my threads.

Perhaps you noticed something else?

My fare told me that he was a detective
and that I was to keep my mouth shut.

Interesting. When did he say this?

- When he paid me.
- Did he say anything more?

He mentioned his name.

Excellent.

Watson, get another half-sovereign.

- What was the name
- Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

- Hello, Perkins.
- Hello, Doctor Mortimer.

- This is Perkins.
- Ah, well.

Good morning, my lord.

Go!

The new master has arrived.

What is this, Perkins?

There's a convict escaped
from Princetown, sir.

The warders have been searching
for him for three days now.

They watch every road and every
station but all to no avail.

Who is he, then?

It is crazy Selden,
the Notting Hill murderer.

This is a man that would stick at
nothing, not like some petty thief.

Here is Baskerville Hall.

Tell me, Mortimer, was it
in this park that my uncle died?

No, it was in the yew alley
on the other side.

Yes, gentlemen, the place
does look gloomy.

I'll have a row of electric lamps
up here inside of six months.

Have you heard anything about
a thousand candlepower lamps?

They were invented by Edison and Swan.

Welcome, Sir Henry! Welcome
to Baskerville Hall!

No, no Barrymore, you are mistaken.

Doctor said in Latin.
"Erratum humanum est".

I am your new master, Barrymore.

Well...

...It's just as I imagined
an old family home.

My people have lived here
5 hundred years.

When would you wish dinner
to be served, sir?

- Excuse me, eh...
- Barrymore.

Tell me, Barrymore, when
do you usually serve dinner?

- In the evening.
- Shall we wait? We'll wait.

Sir Henry, my wife and I will be happy
to stay here for as long as you need us.

But under the new conditions this house
will require a considerable staff.

What new conditions, Barrymore?

Sir Charles led a very retired life.

Very modest.

As far as I understand, you
would lead another kind of life.

To my knowledge
your family, Barrymore,

have lived in Baskerville Hall
for several generations.

I should be sorry to begin my life here
by breaking an old tradition.

But still the place looks
a bit gloomy, doesn't it?

Yes.

It is hard to imagine that this
is the chamber which made us...

...feel so gloomy in the evening.

I guess it is ourselves
and not the house

that we have to blame. We were
tired and worn out with our journey

So we took a grey view of the place.

Now we have had a night's rest,
I for one slept soundly...

...and everything seems more cheerful.

- What is it, porridge?
- Cereal, Sir.

- I say...
- Barrymore, Sir.

Excuse me, Barrymore, is there
anything else to eat?

Well, I don't know, a stake, some meet?

I shall serve meet for dinner, my lord.

And yet it was not entirely
a question of our mood.

Did you happen to hear someone...

...a woman I think,
sobbing in the night?

You heard it too?

You know, I thought that I imagined it.

I really woke up at about midnight

and it seemed to me that
I heard some one cry.

I concluded that it was all a dream.

I heard it distinctly, and I am sure
that it was really the sob of a woman.

We will find out right away.

- Barrymore.
- Barrymore... come over here, please.

Tell us who could weep at night
in the house in a woman's voice?

There are only 2 women
in the house, my lord.

One is the scullery-maid,
who lives in the other wing.

The other is my wife,
and I assure you she did not cry.

I suppose, we imagined it.

Certainly, sir.

I had the telegram delivered
to Mr. Barrymore...

...exactly as directed.

Who delivered it?

My boy here.

- James!
- Yes?

Did you deliver that telegram to
Mr. Barrymore at the Hall? - Yes.

Into his own hands?

No, Mr. Barrymore was up in the loft so
I gave it into Mrs. Barrymore's hands.

Did you see Mr. Barrymore?

No, sir; I tell you
he was in the loft.

How do you know he was in the loft?

Well, surely his own wife
ought to know where he is.

Didn't he get the telegram?

If there is any mistake

It is for Mr. Barrymore
himself to complain.

Doctor Watson?

You will excuse my presumption.
Here on the moor we are homely folk.

And do not wait for
formal introductions.

You may possibly have heard my name
from our mutual friend, Mortimer.

I am Stapleton, of Merripit House.

- Glad to meet you.
- Glad to meet you.

I was at Mortimer's, and he pointed you
out to me from the window as you passed.

I thought that I would introduce myself.

How is sir Henry?
We were all rather afraid

that after the sad death of Sir Charles
the new heir might refuse to live here.

Sir Henry has, I hope, no
superstitious fears in the matter?

What matter?

The legend of the fiend dog which is
said to haunt the Baskerville family.

- You know about it?
- Yes, I do.

And Mr. Sherlock Holmes?

Doctor Watson, your
interesting records of

the famous detective
have reached us here.

If you are here, then it
follows that Mr. Sherlock

Holmes is interesting
himself in the matter.

I am curious to know
what view he may take.

At present Mr. Sherlock Holmes has
other cases which engage his attention.

So you are conducting
the investigation?

Doctor Watson, if you need my help
I trust that you will command me.

Thank you. I am here upon
a visit to my friend,

Sir Henry, and need
no help of any kind.

- Good bye.
- Good bye.

Excellent! Cautiousness comes first!

In London...

I decided to dress
like a true Englishman.

So please put away all these
Canadian suitcases.

And by the way, if you can find some use
for any of those things, take a look.

Perhaps you'll have
something yourself?

Thank you, that is unnecessary.

Would you like to have this fur-coat?

- No...
- Please, take it, it may prove useful.

Sir Henry... Sir Henry.
Don't listen to him, Sir Henry.

Of course if you feel
like presenting us

with this fur-coat we
will gladly have it.

Elisa.

You are so kind, sir Henry.
Just like your late uncle.

Our poor master, the kind sir Charles.

John, you know perfectly
that some one might need it.

Elisa. - I'll say nothing more. He
didn't understand anything all the same.

This s a present to us.

You went out, Watson? Barrymore and
I are here looking through the luggage.

Tell me, Barrymore...

...Did you get sir Henry's wire from
London informing you of his arrival?

Yes, I did.

Did the boy deliver
it into your own hands?

Yes.

Well, no. I was in the box-room at the
time, and my wife brought it up to me.

Did you answer it yourself?

No; I told my wife what
to answer and she...

Thank you.

Please, go back to London, instantly.

Why should I go back?

For God's sake, believe me.
Don't ask for explanations.

Go back and never set
foot upon the moor again.

But why, why?

Hush, my brother is coming!
Not a word to him.

Glad to see you. Oh, it's you, Beryl?

Jack, you are very hot.

Yes, I was chasing a
remarkable species.

A Cyclopides. But I haven't got
anything with me. What a pity.

You have introduced yourselves?

Yes. I was telling Sir Henry

that it was rather early for
him to see the beauties

of the moor. Orchids are
not blossoming yet.

Why, who do you think this is?

No, no, don't give me wrong titles.

I am only a humble friend of Sir Henry.
My name is Dr. Watson.

Doctor Watson.

We have been talking
at cross purposes.

Doctor Watson, this is my sister.

I took Doctor Watson
for our neighbor.

It cannot much matter to him whether
it is early or late for the orchids.

Now that you know my sister.

We demand that you visit our farm,
Right now.

Thank you. This way, please.

Queer spot to choose, is it not?

And yet we manage to make ourselves
fairly happy, do we not, Beryl?

- Quite happy.
- Please.

I had a school the north country,
but the fates were against us.

An epidemic broke out in the school
and 3 of the boys died.

We never recovered from the blow

and much of my capital was
irretrievably swallowed up.

And yet, if it were not for the loss

of the charming
companionship of the boys,

I could rejoice over
my own misfortune.

As for a man with my strong tastes
for botany and zoology,

I find an unlimited field of work here.
Truly unlimited.

Life here might be a little dull less
for you, perhaps, than for your sister.

- No, no, I am never dull.
- What do we have for lunch today?

It's only me who makes coffee
in this house. Only me.

Just a moment.

Excuse me for my stupid joke
Doctor Watson.

Please forget the words I said, which
have no application whatever to you.

I will convey your warning
to Sir Henry.

You make too much of it, Dr. Watson.

My brother and I were
very much shocked by the

death of Sir Charles. We
knew him very intimately.

His favorite walk was over
the moor to our house.

I was distressed therefore when Sir
Charles's heir came down to live here.

I felt that he should be warned
of the danger which he will run.

But what is the danger?

You know the story of the hound?

I do not believe in such nonsense.

But I do.

It seemed to me you did not wish your
brother to overhear what you said?

My brother is very anxious
to have the Hall inhabited.

For he thinks it is for the good
of the poor folk upon the moor.

He would be very angry
if he knew that I

am trying to influence Sir Henry.

We have our studies, we have lots of

books, and we have
interesting neighbors.

Dr. Mortimer is a most
learned man in his own line.

Poor Sir Charles...

...was also an admirable companion.
Please.

Yes... We knew him well.

We miss him more than I can tell.

- Please.
- Thank you.

What would you say if I were to call
upon Sir Henry? Will I intrude?

I am sure that he would be delighted
to make your acquaintance.

You keep writing. Yet your friend
shows no sign of coming.

Sherlock Holmes?

Yes, it's hard to sort
things out without him.

A dark matter, sir. Very dark.

Good afternoon.

- Ah, good afternoon.
- Welcome.

It is a wonderful place, the moor!
You never tire of the moor.

It is so mysterious.

I have only been here two years
shortly after Sir Charles settled.

But I am a naturalist and have explore
every part of the country round.

That is the Grimpen Mire.

A false step yonder means death
to man or beast.

And yet I can find my way to the
very heart of it and return alive.

Well, you see the hills beyond?
They are really islands

That is where the rare plants
and the butterflies are.

I shall try my luck some day.

For God's sake put such an idea
out of your mind. Forget it.

Your blood would be upon my head.
You won't come back alive.

It is only by remembering

certain complex landmarks
that I am able to penetrate it.

Quiet!

Did you here that?

Queer place, the moor!

But what is it?

The peasants say it is the Hound
of the Baskervilles

calling for its prey.

I have never heard it quite so loud.

You are an educated man. How do you
account for so strange a sound?

Bogs make queer noises sometimes.

It's the mud settling, or
the water rising, or something.

But that was a living voice.

Well, perhaps it was.

Did you ever hear a bittern booming?

Mm yes.

We haven't seen our mutual friend
Doctor Mortimer for a long time now.

He has been excavating some barrow.

Glad to see you well and happy.

- Any news, Doctor Watson?
- Happily none.

And I am all excited.

For one thing I am overjoyed.
I have excavated a barrow in the Down

and has got a prehistoric skull
which is a true holiday for me.

But Mr. Frankland, the local lawyer,
intends to prosecute me for

opening a grave without the consent
of the next of kin of the deceased.

You are laughing, Sir Henry,
but I see nothing funny in it

Because in the English law one can
well find something to that point.

Mr. Frankland is an expert at it.

Sometimes he has seven or eight
lawsuits upon his hands simultaneously.

Mr. And Miss Stapleton.

Welcome to Baskerville Hall.

You evidently frequented this house?

Sir Henry and I

feel like visitors here.

Yes, we used to come here quite often.

Sir Charles was a very hospitable man.

Your uncle was the soul
of our society.

Will you stay here long?

I suppose I wont' leave
these places any more.

- I say, Watson.
- Yes?

Is that all?

She said it was early yet...

to enjoy the beauty of the moor.

The orchids are not blossoming yet.

What else did she tell you?

She said she was anxious because
of the arrival of the heir.

Meaning you.

I wonder what else she told you
about the orchids.

You know they are such...

They are not blossoming yet.

The orchids are not blossoming yet.

What would that mean?

Not blossoming and that is that.

What are you doing here, Barrymore?

Nothing, sir. It is the window.

I go round at night to see
that they are fastened.

In the tower?

Yes, sir, all the
windows in the house.

Come, now, Barrymore!

No lies! What were you doing
at that window?

I was doing no harm, sir.

I was holding a candle
to the window and...

And why were you holding
a candle to the window?

Don't ask me, Sir Henry

Don't ask me! I give you my word,
sir, that it is not my secret.

If it concerned no one
but myself I would not...

It must have been a signal.

- In what sense?
- In the direct sense.

Let us see if there is any answer

Ah, did you see that, Watson?
Did you...

What a scoundrel.

Barrymore, it is a signal.

- Who are your confederates?
- That's my business.

- Who are your confederates?
- That's my business.

Answer me this minute!

It concerns only me. I
will not tell you anything.

Then you leave my employment
right away. Get out!

- Get out, Barrymore!
- Very good, sir.

- If I must I must.
- And you go in disgrace.

Barrymore, your family
has lived with mine

for over a hundred
years under this roof,

and here I find you deep
in some dark plot against me!

No, no, sir; no, not against you!

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Look what you've done, Eliza.
We have to go.

You can go pack our things.

Have I brought you to this?
Just you listen to him.

Sir Henry, I won't lie to you.
If there's something bad in it...

...Believe me, my husband has done
nothing except for my sake.

We humored him too
much when he was a lad

and gave him his own way in everything

until he came to think that
he could do whatever he liked.

That the world was made
for his pleasure.

- Watson, I don't understand anything.
- He was as one possessed.

He broke his mother's heart
and dragged our name in the dirt.

From crime to crime he
sank lower and lower.

Only the mercy of God has snatched
him from the scaffold.

I don't understand anything.

Sir Henry, I wish you knew
what a charming child he was.

I can show you his
childhood portrait.

Don't bother to show me anything.
I don't...

A real angel. He just
met wicked companions.

He maiden name is Seldon, Sir.

Well, well. I don't know... So what?

Seldon is her younger brother.

So Seldon the murderer
is your brother?

Yes, sir. He is starving on the moor.
John gives him a sign

...that food is ready. And he indicates
where to bring it. That's all.

Every day we hoped that he is gone,

but as long as he is there
we can not desert him.

I don't understand anything! Please, I
don't understand! A brother, the moor...

What dinner can there be on the moor?
Take it... I don't understand.

Take this woman away, Barrymore.
I don't want to here any of this.

I say, Doctor, I don't
understand anything.

Explain to me, please, what
they were talking about?

Her brother Seldon, the assassin,
is hiding on the moor.

They are feeding him.

You don't say!

The fire must be so placed as
to be only visible from here.

I wonder he dares.

How far do you think it is?

Not more than a mile or two off.

I say, let's take this man.

- Let's.
- And that'll be the end of it.

It won't.

Are you armed?

- I have a hunting-crop.
- I have got a revolver.

Just stay here and I'll turn left...

Do you remember what Holmes said?
The hour of

darkness in which the
power of evil is exalted?

Screenplay by Igor Maslennikov
with Participation of Yuri Veksler

Directed by Igor Maslennikov

Directors of photography:
Dmitry Dolinin, Vladimir Ilyin

Production director: Bella Manevich

Composer: Vladimir Dashkevich
Sound by: Asia Zvereva

Costume designer N. Lev,
Make-up designer L.

Eliseyeva. Edited by L. Obrazumova

Director A. Tigai, cameraman A. Nasyrov
Editor N. Chirkov

Production director Grigory Prusovsky

The End of Part One