All language subtitles for 01. The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax

My Dear Holmes,

today I walked 14 miles
across rough terrain

and hardly a twinge

from either my
leg or my shoulder.

The landscape
is as handsome
as it is reported.

I still entertain the hope

that I can prevail
upon you to join me.

I appreciate, of course,

that the beauties of
nature mean little to you,

but I believe you
would have found

some of the guests at
my hotel most intriguing.

Moral splendor is on
display in the person

of the striking
Major Shlessinger,

a hero of the Boer War,

sadly crippled in the
defense of Ladysmith

and now engaged
in charitable work.

His nurse is a Ms. Calder

whose attentiveness
suggests not only

that she is his
disciple but also

that tenderer
feelings may be involved.

Most fascinating
of all, however,

is an extraordinary woman,

one who would stand
out in any society,

the Lady Frances Carfax.

I suppose one
would call her modern

except that she
seems to come from

an ancient line of
English eccentrics.

Yesterday,
as if to confirm

the general opinion
of her oddity,

she declared
that she would

sail herself to
church across the lake.

There was much speculation
in the hotel carriage

as we traveled towards

the charming little
lakeside chapel

about whether Lady Frances

would be as
good as her word.

And those of us foolish
enough to doubt her

were soon rebuked by
the sight of a skiff

moored in the shallows

and by the stern
gaze of its captain

when she
greeted us within.

A surprisingly
jolly sermon, Vicar,

a lot like a cat.

Well, she appears
to care not a jot

what her fellow
guests make of her

and seems quite insensible
to the vivid impression

she creates
wherever she goes.

We were all
amused certainly

at the sight of her
trying to board the skiff,

but since she
had accomplished

the outward
journey with such skill,

we had no
reason to suppose

that her return voyage

would present her with
any greater difficulty

or that it would end
in the way that it did.

I had decided to walk
back across the fill

so I was not amongst
those who waited

to cheer Lady Frances
on her return.

I arrived a little later
at exactly the moment

when tragedy
threatened to strike.

Help!

Help, here!

Help!

I was helpless,
my dear Holmes,

helpless.

I have never felt so
powerless in my life,

as powerless so I thought

as the old soldier
in his wheelchair

who had only
been able to shout,

it seemed, for help.

As with many men,

I have noticed a weakness
in one part of the body

is compensated by
great strength elsewhere.

Unable to walk,

Shlessinger was yet
able to swim powerfully

with his arms alone.

Reinforcements arrived in
due course from the hotel,

and tragedy was
happily averted.

Now, all parties
are recovered,

it is reported that
the Lady Frances

is resentful of her rescue

as if her
suffragette principles

had been
somehow compromised.

All agree at any rate

that Major Shlessinger
is the hero of the hour.

Ms. Calder's attentions
are now translated

into patent adoration.

No doubt further
praise will be in order

when he lectures on
his missionary activities

at the hotel tomorrow.

He is, by the way, the
British representative

of the Mission Church
of Christ the Healer

whose theater works
in the high Andes of Peru.

Morning.

Major Shlessinger
is avoiding me.

The poor man
is embarrassed by
his own heroism.

Perhaps he now thinks

I'm obliged to
contribute to his work.

Men have such
extraordinary weaknesses.

Don't you think.

Oh, yes, certainly, we
do, of course, I agree.

Would you care to take a
turn by the lake, Doctor?

Major Shlessinger works
tirelessly for his church,

does he not?

I understand the need for
funds is considerable.

He's lecturing on
his cause tomorrow

here in the hotel hoping
to raise some money.

He'll do well.

The local matronage
will happily part

with half a guinea each

for the company
of such a man

all be it in public.

Do I shock you?

Not at all.

I shock my brother.

As the Earl of Rufton,

I think he feels it is
his duty to be shocked.

Oh, it's very beautiful
here, isn't it?

I spent every summer
of my childhood
here by this lake.

It's very beautiful.

It is indeed.

He's to visit
me tomorrow.

Who?

My brother.

That is duty,
too, of course.

Damn him.

Damn him.

Ah, Lady Frances.

What a pleasant surprise.

I must confess
that her behavior

continues to fascinate me.

I grant that
her reaction to this

unknown
horseman was extreme,

but many of
her reactions are.

Had she known
him, I wonder?

What lies in her past to
prompt this fear of him?

In looking for
an explanation,

I am placing some hopes

in the visit we
expect this afternoon

from her brother,
the Earl of Rufton.

By all accounts,
his oddities

are of an entirely
different order

from those of his sister.

Where she
flouts convention,

he has raised
the conventions
of a former era

to the status of a faith.

As for myself,

I notice an
increasing indifference

to the natural beauty
which lies about me.

My thoughts
return constantly

to the Lady Frances.

There is something
about her life

which prompts my sympathy,

some unhappiness
I can sense

which I would
dearly like to dispel.

It is to be hoped
that her spirits

will be lifted by
her brother's visit

for she remains subdued

from yesterday's
strange encounter.

Who is he, Holmes?

Why does he not wish
to make himself known?

Why indeed?

Watson, you're a brick.

I came here, Fanny,
to see how you were,

not to be lectured.

It's not a lecture,
it's a request.

It sounds like a lecture.

It's quite simple,
I need some money.

Just like that?

I suppose
you've been overdoing
again, haven't you?

I do not overdo it, John.

If I have ever overspent

the wretched allowance
you've given me,

it's because someone
has been in need.

Oh, yes, your
famous heart of gold,

except that it's my money,
and there isn't any.

You know perfectly
well there isn't.

The hall is
falling to bits.

There's a family of
owls in the east wing,

and you think.

What is it this time?

Helping penniless
poets in Islington?

You only know how to
be cruel, don't you?

When have you ever
cared for what I want?

The last 15 years of my
life have been wretched

and now, at last,
I had a chance

to make something of it.

Doesn't that have
any meaning for you?

I don't see what
difference it makes.

The difference it makes

is that I'm being
told what to do.

You know I loathe it.

The trouble is you
won't even take advice,

will you?

You've been
offered everything.

You've turned it all down.

What have I been offered?

Marriage, good marriages.

Ha, ha, ha.

To be the unpaid
slave of a titled yokel

who hasn't even
read a book,

who thinks Bach is
something terriers do.

All right, all right.

What have you got
against me doing this?

What?

I want to get out of this

miserable mess
my life is in

to be my own woman,
for God's sake,

to fulfill just a
portion of my life.

Why do you
always hold me back?

Think of it, John,

think of it.

Just one payment.

One.

You could see the
back of me forever.

The mule express
as we have dubbed it

brings the
mail once a month.

Letters, of course,

and food for
the mind from the
Library of Christ.

And medicines for the
well being of my flock

whom you may see here

posing outside the mission

below a temporary belfry.

When I show you
the next picture

of a leading member
of my congregation,

you will understand
how the parable

of the shepherd
and the lost sheep

has become transmuted
in our teaching

into that of the llama
herd and the lost llama.

And finally, our church,

humble as it is,

rough and poor indeed,

I'm proud to tell you

that the word of God

is preached as
fervently within its walls

and is as
joyously received there

as in any great
cathedral here at home.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

It was inspiring
as I predicted.

I regret to say that the
rigors of his itinerary

press hard
upon Major Shlessinger

who will shortly be
departing for Whitehaven.

We shall be taking
up a collection

on behalf of his estimable
mission, of course.

What do you mean?

I mean that the remedy
lies in your own hands.

How?

You know how.

If you're really serious,
you'll know what to do,

damn it.

I'm sick of
you coming to me

with these
crackpot notions.

You know my
responsibilities.

If you hadn't thrown
away all your chances,

you wouldn't be
in this position now.

Well, I've had enough.

You know what
you have to do.

Grow up and do it.

My last resort,
my very last resort.

How can you suggest it.

Groom.

Groom.

Where the devil are you?

In which room

is Mr. Shlessinger's
meeting taking place?

I am afraid the
meeting finished

half an hour ago, madam.

Mr. Shlessinger
will have left for
Whitehaven by now.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I've forgotten.

Thank you.

Lady Frances.

Leave me alone.

Excuse me.

You, sir.

I've no doubt

you will tell me my fears
are unfounded, Holmes,

but the repeated
appearance of this man

has cast a
shadow over her life

which try as she might

she cannot lift.

Evening paper,
Mr. Holmes?

Mrs. Hudson,
fetch me a cab.

Mrs. Hudson.

As soon as the telegraph
office is opened,

to Dr. John Watson,

Lake Hotel,
Felmire, Cumberland.

And what of Mr. Holmes?

I shall not be
here, Mrs. Hudson.

Dr. Watson.

I shall be on the
8:17 out of Uston.

Dr. Watson.

My cab awaits
you downstairs.

Read.

Mr. Holmes.

Read.

Grave danger
Lady Frances, stop.

Never let
from sight, stop.

On my way, Holmes.

How long has
this been here?

I um.

Holmes.

Disappeared, Watson.

Disappeared.

Did Lady Frances
pay her bill?

No, sir.

Did she order
any transport?

No, sir.

And she took
none of her luggage?

We think not, sir.

Where is Mr. Holmes?

Nothing yet, Holmes.

I'm beginning
to fear the worst.

I blame myself.

I knew I should have
pursued that fellow.

It is a possibility.

What is?

Do you not see it?

It is most conspicuous.

What?

The skiff, Watson,
the sailing skiff.

It's not here.

Precisely.

It is possible there lies
the Lady Frances Carfax

silent road to Avonside.

It is the nearest
railhead as you know.

You don't mean that
this fellow abducted
her by boat?

Silk.

It is one of the three
more likely possibilities.

Best French
sewn, dove gray.

She had a
gray silk shawl.

No, well, that will
tell us nothing more.

What are the three
possibilities, Holmes?

In what did she
usually wear the shawl?

Oh, her outside clothes.

The three possibilities?

She may have run away with
her intended abductor.

He may have abducted
her by boat as you suggest

or by some other means.

She may, considering
her emotional condition,

have been deceived
into going with him.

I can hardly believe that.

She was terrified
of him, believe me.

I believe you.

Yes.

A stray chicken in
the world of foxes.

Once she's gobbled up,
she's hardly missed.

Come, Watson.

And our horses
should be saddled by now.

Horses?

I have been
somewhat extravagant

in choice of mounts,

but delay must be
dangerous in this matter.

We should be at
Rufton Hall at dusk.

I don't see what
possible interest

it could have
for you, sir.

Considerable
interest I assure you.

One of the most dangerous
classes in the world

is the drifting
and friendless woman

with no one to
protect and guide her.

She is the
inevitable inciter
of crime in others.

I treat the disappearance
of your sister

with utmost seriousness.

Do you think I do not?

I'm merely suggesting
that it is frivolous

to keep from me the
substance of your quarrel.

It was after
all this quarrel

which immediately
preceded her
disappearance.

Might it have
something to do

with a drunken
poet she once knew?

What?

I understand
of my colleague

that she may have
seen him recently.

Green?

I thought I'd seen
the last of him.

I sent him packing,
15 years ago.

What is his connection
with your sister?

He used to court her.

Great brute of a fellow.

She wouldn't have
anything to do with him.

The Honorable
Philip Green.

Never was a
title so abused.

He went to
the dogs completely,

drink, gambling.

Ended up
destitute in Islington

pretending to
write poetry.

Of course, Frances
became interested in him

as soon as he
lost everything.

How did you
send him packing?

He was a violent fellow,

and he drank.

I'd heard talk
of prosecution,

debt, assault.

I gave him 100 pounds

and bought him
a ticket to Australia.

Show his face around here,

I'll set the dogs on him.

Now, your quarrel
with your sister.

Money.

She wanted money.

She has none of her own?

I make her an allowance
out of the estate.

It's modest, but
you've seen the place.

She has no
assets herself?

Yes, she has.

I told her if
she wanted money,

she could sell this.

It's a
priceless collection.

That was designed for
the French royal family

by Fragenalt.

We acquired it
all at the revolution,

and now, it's hers.

What I have is owls,

owls in the east wing.

Want to see the owls?

Where does she keep them?

Does she travel with them?

No.

Well, now, where
are they kept?

My Lord, your
sister has vanished.

How and why
we do not know,

but I have
reason to believe

she is in the
gravest danger.

Were we to know
the whereabouts
of the jewelry,

we might have some
chance of saving her.

The Oxford and
Lombard Maritime
Bank in Pall Mall.

Thank you.

The Oxford and
Lombard Bank

opens its doors
in 12 hours.

She may already
have come and gone.

The bank's been
open for 20 minutes.

I've been
quite blind, Holmes.

I had the evidence
in the palm of my hand.

If anything's happened
to her, I shall...

Holmes, look.

May I help you, sir?

Yes, please,
I wish to see the manager.

It's a part of a deal.

It's a private
matter concerning

a family deposit
with the bank.

My colleague.

Watson.

You, sir?

I, sir?

You, sir.

What have you done with
the Lady Frances Carfax?

I insist upon an answer.

(unintelligible)

Frances!

Frances!

I blame myself.

No, you need not.

Nevertheless, I do.

We all bear equal blame.

She's disappeared again,

and that is that.

It is pointless
to dwell on it.

Our task now
is to find her.

Mr. Green,

let us go back
to that moment

by the lake
yesterday morning.

I was out
riding in the dawn,

and I saw the skiff

sailing across the
lake toward Ironside.

And you realized that
it was the Lady Frances?

Yes.

Was she alone?

Yes.

Please continue.

I managed to
board the same train.

I begged her
to speak to me.

I told her how I'd
traveled the world

and had become
a very rich man.

I told her that I'd
never stopped loving her

and that she could have
whatever she wanted.

I can see her now.

She sat saying nothing,

smiling like a sphinx.

No, she said.

She wanted to
go her own way.

When we got to London,

I followed her
as best I could,

but she seemed
determined
to be rid of me.

I lost her somewhere
near Sellick Bridge.

Sellick?

Oh, that is
most interesting.

Why?

I'm reliably informed
that his usual haunts

are west of Westminster.

Who's haunts?

How did you come
to be at the bank?

I reasoned that she
would be needing money

while she was in London,

and I know the address

of the family
bank well enough.

I had the wild idea

of enlisting the
manager's help.

Do you know where
she is, Mr. Holmes?

No, I do not.

Where do you think she is?

I believe that through
our efforts to save her,

we have driven
her into the hands

of her worst enemy.

But we saw her free.

My dear Watson,

a person may walk over
the edge of the cliff

because they've
been invited to
gaze at the moon.

Her eyes may be open,

but she is
I believe at this moment

walking into
mortal danger.

Shlessinger.

Mr. Shlessinger.

This last week I sought
to acquaint myself

with the world
of apostolic missions.

I've also made a
search of the records

of Scotland Yard.

Shlessinger,

is also known
as the Reverend
Joseph Cubbington,

Amos Callow,
the Dean of Masaro

and Edmund,
the Bishop of Lima.

His real name,
in fact, is Peters.

He's a
confidence trickster

known at Scotland Yard
by the uninspired logic

of that place
as Holy Peters.

What is not yet suspected

but incontrovertible
nonetheless

is that he is a murderer.

Peters specialty,

is the beguiling of single
woman with private means

by playing on
their religious

and charitable feelings.

Helena Rosenbloom
had been engaged

in charitable work
for ten years

when she met Shlessinger.

He inspired her to
devote her energies

to a new
mission in the Andes.

Ms. Rosenbloom
changed her will,

said good-bye
to her former life

and boarded the
SS Elmyria at Glasgow

bound for South America.

She was lost overboard

the first night at sea.

The SS Elmyria
docked at Liverpool

for the family to
retrieve her effects.

Shlessinger
also disembarked.

He went to ground
at the Lake District

where he met his
next intended victim,

the Lady Frances Carfax.

At last, gentlemen,

at last.

Where was it pawned?

Riley's of Stockwall.

It was by my calculation
the 27th shop I tried.

Riley has received two
sentences to my knowledge

for the receipt
of stolen goods.

He will cooperate with us.

What does this mean?

What does it mean?

Please, Mr. Green,
this is pointless.

Don't torture yourself.

Do you think the
torture is self-induced?

The thought of Frances
in the hands of criminals.

Such thoughts come
unbidden, Mr. Holmes.

They break through
the strongest defenses

the mind can
raise against them.

Calm yourself,
Mr. Green,

calm yourself.

If she's still innocent

of Shlessinger's
true identify,

she may well
be safe for a time.

And if not?

Then it is clear that
he cannot let her loose

without his
own destruction.

Now, we must
continue to hope

that she remains
ignorant of who he is.

Fifteen years.

I knew I could
never come back

until I'd made
something of myself.

Perhaps it was
foolish of me to think

that she would
look kindly on me

after all these years,

but I was ridiculously
encouraged by the fact

that she was not married.

And now, my stupidity
has driven her

into the arms
of a murderer.

What can I do?

Is there nothing I can do?

Does Shlessinger
know you by sight?

No.

Ah, well, then there is
something that you can do.

But it'll demand
great patience.

I have waited for
15 years, Mr. Holmes.

Shlessinger's had a
fair price for the jewelry

and no questions asked.

He'll almost certainly
return to Riley's shop.

And Rosenblooms
attorney for the will.

Now, give this
note to Riley.

He will let you
wait at the shop.

It may be a long wait,

but you possess
your soul in patience.

And above all,
no violence.

It's late.

Well, it should have
been here before now.

Well, they say
it took longer

being out of the ordinary.

The address,
dear, remind me.

Yes, sir, can I help?

Argyle Street.

I'm looking
for Argyle Street.

There's a post office
round the corner.

Try there.

Mr. Green, we can do
nothing without a warrant.

This is intolerable.

Until we have some
wretched signature

on a piece of paper,
we can do nothing.

Meanwhile,

these fiends can do
with her what they will.

Are you certain

that you've told
me every detail?

Every detail, I promise.

Then take this note
to Scotland Yard.

They will understand
the urgency of it.

And I am to wait
there for the warrant.

You will not
get it today.

What?

Some delay is inevitable.

A magistrate
must be found.

The process of the
law can be encouraged

but not goaded.

Tomorrow may be too
late for God's sake.

Mr. Green,

everything that can
be done will be done.

Go.

Tomorrow may
indeed be too late.

I'm well aware of it.

Arm yourself, Watson.

We are as usual
the irregulars

who must take
our luck together

as we have occasionally
done in the past.

8:00 tomorrow morning,

Brickston Cemetery.

I fancy that you've
been misdirected, sir.

Possibly if you try
further down the street.

That will do.

We have no time to waste.

You are Harry Peters,

late Major
Albert Shlessinger,

veteran of the Boer War.

Your further aliases

I will not bore
you by repeating.

And what is your name?

Sherlock Holmes.

My friend and companion
I think you know.

The house will shortly be
under police observation

until a
warrant is prepared

authorizing a
search of the premises.

Your name does not
frighten me, Mr. Holmes.

I have nothing to hide.

What is your business?

I'm looking for the
Lady Frances Carfax.

I'm delighted to hear it.

If anyone can find
her, I imagine you can.

Perhaps you'd be so good
as to tell me when you do.

I've a note against her
for nearly 100 pounds,

and nothing to show for it

but a couple of
trumpery pendants

that the dealer
would hardly look at.

The woman's a leech.

How dare you, sir.

You imposed upon us
as a man crippled

in a military action.

You are a fraud.

Oh, it may not have
been a military action

to satisfy your standards
of slaughter, Doctor,

but it was enough for me.

Hm-mm.

I salute your powers
of improvisation, sir,

and your effrontery,
but it will not do.

Oh, I'm perfectly serious.

You find her,
and I'm your debtor.

I mean to go through
this house until I do.

You have a warrant?

This will serve until
a better one comes.

Why you're
a common burglar.

And my friend is
a dangerous ruffian.

Together we mean
to go through your house.

I'm in no
position to stop you.

Search where you will.

I have nothing to hide.

Where is the coffin

that you had brought
into this house?

That is none
of your business.

I repeat where?

Is it not enough

that you force
your way into my home,

that you
threaten me at gunpoint,

must you also now invade
the peace of the dead?

Where?

I shall not tell you.

Hold him here, Watson.

I don't believe
you'd use that

on an unarmed man, Doctor,

and in my condition.

I was a soldier
in India, sir.

I've shot nobler
creatures than you.

Lights, Watson, lights.

I smelled formaldehyde
and astringent.

Thank God.

It's not her.

Get them out.

You have violated
the peace of the dead.

You will now leave.

Who is she?

Get them out.

Her name is Rose Spender.

Get them out.

She is my
wife's old nurse.

She's been with the
family for half a century.

She died two days ago.

We are to bury
her tomorrow morning.

Now, get out
before I ask the police

you have
summoned to my home

to come in and
throw you out.

I've been considering
the problem, Holmes.

It does seem
to me that they

could not have
murdered Lady Frances

and thought to have
disposed of her
body in that coffin

for they would
then be faced with

burying the old lady.

It may be that this
burial has no connection

with Lady Frances'
disappearance after all.

I mean she was,
as you know, the most

unpredictable creature.

It may be that
she had second thoughts

about Shlessinger.

She may even
have had some inkling

of the kind of man
we believe him to be

and removed
herself from the house.

He was, after all,

happy to let us search it.

What do you think?

What is your theory then?

I have none.

There are
insufficient facts to
construct a theory.

You think
there's something
you've overlooked?

It's late.

Well, it should have
been there before now.

They say it took longer
being out of the ordinary.

What has
happened to any brains

that God has given me.

Watson.

Quick, man.

It's life or death.

A hundred
chances on death

and one on life.

Oh, God most
mighty, holy,

most merciful savior,

and our most
worthy judge eternal,

suffer us not
at our last hour

for any plains of death...

and never continuous
in one stage.

In the midst of life,
we are in death.

Of whom may
we seek for succor
but of thee, oh, Lord

who for our sins
are justly displeased.

Yet, oh, Lord
God, most holy...

For as much as it
hath pleased almighty God

of his great mercy
to take unto himself

the soul of our dear
sister here departed,

we therefore commit
her body to the ground.

Earth to earth,

ashes to ashes,

dust to dust

in sure and certain...

Stop.

Raise that coffin.

Whatever do you
mean by this sacrilege?

Murder, sir.

Murder is what I mean.

Why such a deep coffin

for such a small old lady?

A sovereign
to each of you

if you can
lift the lid off that
coffin in one minute.

Watson.

Stop or I'll shoot.

Ah.

It's chloroform.

She's known literally
the terrors of the grave.

God knows what this
will have done to her.

I've failed.

I have brought
her back here

to the country
of her childhood

which is one of the most
beautiful on this planet.

There has been a great
improvement as a result.

A landscape so familiar

and so intimate to her

will prompt in time a
full response I feel sure

as will the company
of friends and family

who've all been
most kind and dutiful.

Her poor brother,
the Earl,

is beside himself with
anger at the criminals

and with mortification
at his having quarreled

with Frances before
all this happened.

Finally, please
accept the enclosed

as a token of my gratitude

for your saving
of my dear Frances,

Mr. Holmes,

and I look forward
to our entertainment

of you and Dr. Watson

in a happier future.

I cannot accept it.

I refuse to be rewarded

for fostering a tragedy.

I've never
suffered such a

complete eclipse
of my faculties.

Well, like any
eclipse, Holmes,

it's only temporary.

There's every hope
of a full recovery.

I wonder.

I wonder.

Frances?