All language subtitles for Picnic.at.Hanging.Rock.1975.720p.BluRay.x264.YIFY.en

[GM]
What we see...

and what we seem...

are but a dream.

A dream within a dream.

“Meet me, love, when day is ending.”

“I love thee for thy highborn grace...

thy deep and lustrous eyes...

for the sweet meaning of thy brow...

and for thy bearing so high.”

Six...

and seven...

and eight...

and nine...

and 10...

and 11.

“I love thee not because thou art fair...

softer than down, smoother than air...

nor for the cupids that do lie...

in either corner of thine eye.

Wouldst thou then know what it might be?

'Tis I love thee 'cause thou lovest me.”

♪ See the little horse ♪

♪ My little horse ♪

♪ Trotting down the paddock
on his fine white feet ♪

♪ Black horse, white horse ♪

♪ Brown horse, gray ♪

♪ Trotting down the paddock
on a bright, sunny day N

Someday, Sara, you shall have
to come home with me to the station -

to Queensland -

and meet my sweet,
funny family for yourself.

Would you like that?

You must learn to love someone else...

apart from me, Sara.

I won't be here much longer.

What do you think?
Miranda, somebody had the nerve...

to send Miss McCraw a card
on squared paper covered with tiny sums.

Girls! Girls!

Unless you all deport yourselves
with rather more grace...

and considerably less noise...

Mrs. Appleyard will see to it that none
of you go to Hanging Rock today.

Banjour, Miss Lumley.

Good morning, Mamsell de Portiere.

I believe Mrs. Appleyard has decided
you're not to go on the picnic, Sara.

That makes two of us.

Off you go.

To St. Valentine!

- Shh!

Come on. Go on then. Come on.

♪ ♪' Frére Jacques
Frére Jacques' ♪

♪ ♪' Dormez-vous?
Dormez-vous?' ♪

♪ Sonnez Ies matinee
Sonnez Ies matinee' ♪

♪ Ding, dang, dong N

Tais-toll Irma. McCraw"aw vient d Quiver.

She wants algebra today.

- Today?
- Oh, yes.

- It's far too beautiful today.
- We might have spare time.

Good morning, girls.

Good morning, Mrs. Appleyard.

Well, young ladies,
we are indeed fortunate in the weather...

for our picnic to Hanging Rock.

I have instructed Mademoiselle
that as the day is likely to be warm...

you may remove your gloves...

once the drag has passed through Woodend.

You will partake of luncheon
at the picnic grounds near the rock.

Once again let me remind you
that the rock itself is extremely dangerous...

and you are therefore forbidden any tomboy
foolishness in the matter of exploration...

even on the lower slopes.

I also wish to remind you that the vicinity
is renowned for its venomous snakes...

and poisonous ants of various species.

It is, however, a geological marvel...

upon which you will be required
to write a brief essay on Monday morning.

That is all. Have a pleasant day...

and try to behave yourselves
in a manner to bring credit to the college.

Mr. Hussey.

- Mr. Hussey.

I shall expect you back,
Miss McCraw and Mademoiselle...

at about 8:00 for a light supper.

Come, girls.

This we do for pleasure...

so that we may shortly be at the mercy...

of venomous snakes and poisonous ants.

How foolish can human creatures be.

- There she is, ladies. Hangin' Rock.

The mountain comes to Muhammad.

The Hanging Rock comes to Mr. Hussey.

More than 500 feet high she is.

Volcanic, of course.
Thousands of years old.

A million years old,
Mr. Hussey, or thereabouts.

Yes, well, of course, that'd be right.

Uh, thousand, millions.

Devil of a long time anyway,
in a manner of speakin'.

Only a million years ago.

Quite a recent eruption, really.

The rocks all around,
Mount Macedon itself...

must be all of 350 million years old.

Siliceous lava...

forced up from deep down below.

Soda trachytes...

extruded in a highly viscous state...

building the steep-sided mamelons
we see in Hanging Rock.

And quite young, geologically speaking.

Barely a million years.

Waiting a million years... just for us.

- More cake, Michael?
- Oh.

- No, thank you, Aunt. I'm -

I think I'll just, um,
stretch my legs a bit.

Oh, don't go too far.

And be careful.
There could be snakes.

- How's it goin'?
- All right.

They finished eating, have they?

- Pardon?

The colonel and the missus -
They finished eating, have they?

Oh, yeah. Yes, they have.

Expect me up there in a minute, I suppose.
Clear away.

- Can't be more'n midday.
- No.

I thought it was a little early
for lunch myself.

Yeah.

Drink?

Oh, thanks.

You know, they always allow an hour longer
than it takes to get here...

and then they gotta eat straightaway.

Thanks.

Ah.

Not that they got anything else to do.

I mean, they never
go for a walk or nothin'.

Get hold of it!

Come on!

To St. Valentine.

To St. Valentine!

I hope you have learned your poetry, Sara.

Sit up straight, child.
Hold your shoulders back.

You're getting a dreadful stoop.

Well, have you got your lines by heart?

Well, have you?

I can't. It doesn't make sense.

Sense? You little ignoramus.

Evidently you don't know
that Mrs. Felicia Hemans...

is considered one of the finest
of our English poets.

I know another piece of poetry by heart.

It has ever so many verses -
much more than “The Wreck of the Hesperus.”

- Would that do?
- What is the name of this poem?

“An Ode to St. Valentine.”

I'm not acquainted with it.
Where did you find it?

I didn't find it. I wrote it.

You wrote it?

“Love abounds, love surrounds” -

Uh, no, thank you, Sara. Strange as it may seem,
I still prefer Mrs. Hemans.

Give me your book and proceed
to recite to me as far as you have gone.

Your book, please, Sara.

Thank you.

Go on.

I can't.

Not one line?

I shall leave you now, Sara.

I expect you to be word-perfect
when I send Miss Lumley in in half an hour.

Otherwise, I'm afraid I shall have
to send you to bed...

instead of letting you stay up
until the others return from the picnic.

Bertie.

Bertie.

Jesus, where are you?

Oh, Miranda.

I like this one.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake
the darling buds of May...

and summer's lease
hath all too short a date.

- Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines” -

That's funny.

Blowed if me watch hasn't stopped.

Dead on 12:00.

Real funny.

C'est tre's joli, n'est-ce pas?

Uh, you wouldn't have
the time, I suppose, miss?

Ah, Miranda. Your pretty
little diamond watch.

Don't wear it anymore.

Can't stand the ticking above my heart.

- Ah.

If it were mine...

I'd wear it always.

- Even in the bath.

Would you, Mr. Hussey?

Stopped at 12:00.

Never stopped before.

Must be something magnetic.

It's well after 2:00, I'd say.

We'd better be careful.

I promised Mrs. Appleyard I'd have you lot
back at the college by 8:00.

Except for those people down there...

we might be the only
living creatures in the whole world.

- Excuse me, Mamsell.
- Yes, Marion?

I should like to make a few measurements
at the base of the rock if we have time.

With Miranda and Irma.

Oh, please, Mamsell.

We'll be back long before tea.

Eh bien. Allez.

May I come too, please?

So long as you don't complain.

I won't. I promise.

And don't worry about us, Mamsell.

We shall only be gone a little while.

Ah.

Now I know.

What do you know?

I know that Miranda is a Botticelli angel.

Wait!

I vote to take a flying leap.

- Can you manage it, Edith?
- I don't know.

I don't want to get my feet wet.

- Oh!

Thought the little fat one
was gonna take a bath.

Some of them are real lookers.

Have a look at the shape
of the dark one with the curls.

Built like an hourglass.

And have a go at the last one.
The blonde!

Oh. She'd have a decent pair of legs.

All the way up to her bum.

I'd rather you didn't say
crude things like that, Albert.

Oh, I say the crude things.

You just think 'em.

Miranda!

Take my word for it. The sheilas are all
alike when it comes to the fellas.

Doesn't matter
if it's a bloody college you come from...

or - or the Ballarat Orphanage
where me and me kid sister was dragged up.

I didn't know you were an orphan.

Geez. I haven't thought
of that bloody dump in donkeys' years.

Miranda!

I think I'll just, uh...

stretch my legs a bit before we go.

Look!

Not down at the ground, Edith.
Way up there in the sky.

Why can't we just sit on this log...

and look at the ugly old rock from here?

It's nasty here.

I never thought it would be so nasty
or I wouldn't have come!

We can't go much further.

We promised Mamsell...

we wouldn't be long away.

If only we could stay out all night...

and watch the moon rise.

Blanche said
Sara writes poetry - in the dunny!

She found one there on the floor -
all about Miranda.

She's an orphan.

Sara reminds me
of a little deer Papa brought home once.

I looked after it...

but it died.

Mama always said it was doomed.

Doomed? What's that mean, Irma?

Doomed to die, of course.

“The boy stood on the burning deck...

whence all but he had fled,” tra-la.

- I forget the rest.
- I think I must be doomed.

I don't feel at all well.

I do wish you'd stop talking for once.

Poor Edith. We'll go back soon.

Irma! Look at them!

Where in the world are they going?

Without their shoes!

Irma, wait! Wait for me!

Please wait! Wait, Irma! Wait!

Whatever can those people
be doing down there?

- Like a lot of ants.

A surprising number
of human beings are without purpose.

Although it is probable...

they are performing some function...

unknown to themselves.

Everything begins and ends...

at exactly the right time and place.

Look.

Oh, Miranda, I feel awful.

Really awful.

Oh.

Miranda, I feel perfectly awful.

When are we going home?

When are we going home?

Miranda?

Miranda!

Miranda!

Miranda, don't go up there! Come back!

I've gotta go. That's Mrs. Appleyard.

- Let someone else go.
- They won't. No. I'm on.

What time is it?

Time to go.

What have you got to do?
I've got to go and clean -

- Mrs. Appleyard'll skin me.
- We've got plenty of time.

You'd better go.

Why are they so late?

- God be praised.

Mademoiselle, why are you so late?

Madame, something terrible has happened.

What?

- What do you mean?
- I can't -

And where in heaven's name
is Miss McCraw?

- We left her behind at the rock.

You left her behind?

Has everyone taken leave of their senses?

Miss Lumley,
get these girls to bed immediately.

And Cook. Cook!
Hot soup, please, for all of them.

Mrs. Appleyard.
I-l must speak to you alone.

Very well.

Straight up the stairs, girls.
Come along. Quickly as you can.

Cook, I asked you for hot soup!

Well, ma'am -
Ma'am, uh, the strength of it is this:

Three of your young ladies...

and, uh - and Miss McCraw...

are m-missing...

- on the rock.

What happened?

Well, now, Mrs. Appleyard...

that's just the trouble.

Nobody knows what happened.

How soon after the girls
did Miss McCraw leave?

Don't know.

No one knows.

No one saw her leave.
We were all asleep.

And the little one?

Edith Horton.

Well, like I told you...

she come tearin' out of the bushes...

dress all torn...

screamin' fit to -

Well, after we'd shushed her screamin',
all we could get out of her...

was that she'd left the other three
somewhere up on the rock.

That's about all I can tell ya.

Irma!

- Miranda!

Irma!

Marion!

Marion!

Irma!

Irma!

Marion!

Go on. Get out of it.

- Ah! Stop it!

Come on.

Miranda!

Try to remember, Edith...

what it was that frightened you
on the rock.

Think carefully, darling.
Carefully.

Did you speak to anyone?

There must have been something.

Was there a man?

Her legs were quite severely scratched.

From running through the brambles,
I should imagine.

Nothing else?

Nothing I could detect.

She hadn't been... molested?

No, no, nothing like that.

I have examined her. She is quite intact.

Since you won't tell me all the details...

how can I give you an opinion, Lionel?

There are no details.

People just don't disappear, my dear.

Not without good reason.

- There's talk, is there?
- Not just gossip.

People have... theories.

Go on.

Well, it couldn't be local.

What couldn't?

No one around here
would do a thing like that.

I've just told you, Sergeant. I simply noticed
these three young ladies crossing the creek.

What did they look like?

- Hmm?
- The girls. Describe them to me.

Hmm. Um -

The first one was tall and dark.

Um, then there was the little dumpy one.

Um, then a girl with glasses...

and... the last one was slim and fair.

That's four.

Pardon?

A few minutes ago you said
there was only three of them.

Oh. Oh, yeah. Um -

That's because the, uh, dumpy one
was back a little.

And then they, uh, moved off
into the trees...

and that's the last we saw of them.

Perhaps we could go a little higher.

I was tired.

I sat down on a log.

Which log, Edith? This one?

Look around you, darling.
Maybe you can see it now.

- Is that the one? You went that way?
- I don't know.

I was tired. I'm tired now.

There is one thing I remember.

What do you remember, Edith? Tell us.

It was when I was coming down...

when I was running.

It was a cloud.

What sort of a cloud?

It was red.

I remember it clearly.
It was just after I passed Miss McCraw.

- Who did you say you saw?
- Miss McCraw.

She was going up the hill
as I was going down.

Did she stop?

- Did you speak?
- No. She was too far away.

She was about as far away
as those dead trees are over there.

She was funny.

Funny?

- How?
- I'd rather not say.

You must, Edith.
It could be very important.

It's rude.

Les pantalons.

She had no skirt. Just /es pantalons.

Drawers? You mean she was
just wearing drawers?

One last go.

For the bloodhound.

Miranda.

Why didn't you tell us
you followed the four girls?

Because -

I didn't exactly follow them.

I just jumped across the creek and walked
towards the rock for a little way.

I was curious.

In England, young ladies like that wouldn't
be allowed to go walking in the forest.

Not alone anyway.

But they'd gone by the time
I came out of the trees, so I turned back.

As the girls were jumping the creek...

what were you thinking of?

Uh-

Hmm?

Ah, Michael.

Oh, Michael. I -

The old man hired me
to look after the horses.

I'm buggered if I'm gonna be
a lackey at a bloody garden party.

That's what I bloody well told him.

More or less.

Had the bloodhound out the other day.

I wake up every night in a cold sweat.

Just wondering if they're still alive.

Yeah, well, the way I look at it is this:

If the bloody cop
and the bloody abo tracker...

and the bloody dog can't find 'em,
well, no one bloody can.

People have been bushed before today...

and as far as I'm concerned,
well, that's the stone end of it.

Well, that's not the end of it
as far as I'm concerned.

They may be out there,
dying of thirst on -

on that infernal rock, and...

you and I are sitting here
drinking cold bloody beer!

That's where you and me's different.

If you want my advice, the sooner
you forget the whole thing, the better.

Well, I can't forget it, and I never will.

I'm not great shakes on music...

but I reckon the governor
must be leavin', eh?

- Your auntie'll give you hell if you're not on show.
- Albert.

I want to go back to the rock.

To look for them.

Will you come with me?

Beautiful birds, them swans.

A week in the bush...

they'd be dead by now.

Then I'll go alone.

Cooee!

Hello?

Cooee!

Mike!

Michael!

Michael!

We'll have to be goin' soon.

Dark before we get back.

I'm staying here.

You're what?

I'm staying here.

Here? On the rock?

- Yes.
- What the hell for?

- You're mad.
- Yes, perhaps I am.

But I'm still staying,
because somebody has to.

- Just because you lot are Australians -
- You're a funny bugger.

What the hell am I gonna tell 'em
when I get back there without ya?

You can tell 'em what you like.

Hmm? What?

Vvoodend?

The Victoria, sir. The -

The little pub near the corner.

Mr. Michael's pretty knocked up, sir.

He's sleepin' there.

At the pub.

Ah. Ah.

Dashed if I know how his aunt'll take it.

Yeah.

All right. Carry on, Crundall.

Thank you, sir.

Stopped at 12:00.

Never stopped before.

Everything begins and ends...

at exactly the right time.

Waiting a million years... just for us.

Look! Way up there in the sky.

Now I know.

What do you know?

A surprising number
of human beings are without purpose.

Although it is probable...

they are performing some function
unknown to themselves.

Everything begins and ends...

at exactly the right time and place.

Miranda.

Miranda!

Miranda!

Miranda!

Geez.

Cooee!

Cooee!

Cooee!

Cooee!

Cooee!

Let me have him now, son.

I've had 30 years experience
puttin' them in...

so they don't fall out back on the road.

Ah, take her quietly, Sergeant.

Oh, Jesus.

Jesus.

He“) me!

He“) me!

- Mademoiselle, they found Irma.
- What did you say?

They found Irma, and she's still alive.

Oh!

No one else?

No.

Now go home.
There's nothing you can do.

Go on now. Go home!
This is a police matter.

Well, go on.

We've got a bloody right to know.

We'd like to know what's going on.

He's right.

We simply want something done about it.

Where's Bumpher?

What we should do is go
to the bloody rock ourselves.

We've got our own
self-respect to think about.

He's right there.

- Get Bumpher out here. Come on.
- Come out, Bumpher!

- There's Arthur. Hello. Everyone back.
- Just want to have a meeting.

Go back.

Go on. Go home. The bloody lot of ya.

Nothing you can do.

We can thank the Lord...

for this merciful deliverance
of our dear classmate Irma...

and pray that Marion and Miranda...

and our beloved Miss McCraw
will be likewise spared.

It has been seen fit
that Irma should convalesce...

at the home of Colonel Fitzhubert
in Mount Macedon.

Although you'll be delighted
at these good tidings...

I would ask you to remember, please...

that of the three remaining
lost members of the party...

there is, as yet, no trace.

Would you come with me
to my study, please, Miss Lumley?

You may carry on, Mademoiselle.

It's completely splendid!

Wonderful news, Mrs. Appleyard.

Don't be so foolish, woman.

If all of them had been found -
but only one?

This makes it worse. Far worse.

This tragedy is little more
than a week old...

and already three -
three, mark you - sets of parents...

have written advising me
that their daughters will not be here next term.

Now the newspapers have something further
to sensationalize about.

Newspapers all over the world
have headlined our morbid affair, Miss Lumley.

I mean, you realize that, I suppose.

The three who have been withdrawn...

plus the three still missing on the rock -

Two, Mrs. Appleyard. Only two now.
I'm quite sure Irma will be coming back.

That makes six, Miss Lumley...

who will not be with us next term.

In addition, there are several sets
of tuition fees impossibly overdue.

Sara Waybourne, for instance.

Most inconsiderate,
if I may say so, Mrs. Appleyard.

Yes.

Well, I -

I expect we shall
see our way through somehow.

Don't let me detain you, Miss Lumley.
You have a class in a few minutes, I believe.

Senior needlework.

Just ask the Waybourne girl
to come in to see me, please.

- After luncheon will be convenient.
- Yes, Mrs. Appleyard.

Oh, and Miss Lumley.

Do your best to forbid any idle and morbid
gossip about this whole wretched business.

Yes, Mrs. Appleyard. I will.

- What, who is it?
- Shh!

Ah.

Remarkable.

Mmm.

A week out in the bush
and nothing more serious...

than shock and exposure.

Extraordinary.

No bones broken.

Just some cuts and bruises
to the face and hands.

To the hands especially.

Quite scratched.

The fingernails are all torn and broken.

There are several other unusual features.

Her head is quite badly bruised.

Probable concussion.

Blow maybe?

Or a fall?

But then, if she fell...

why is the rest of the body unmarked?

It's quite unblemished.

And the feet, too, are quite unmarked...

which is very strange as she was not wearing
shoes or stockings when she was found.

- We found no trace of 'em up on the rocks.
- Mmm.

She's quite intact.

I'd give my head to know
what really happened up there.

She's quite intact.

What is it, my girl?

Well, ma'am, it's Miss Irma.

Yes?

Well, it's about her clothing.

What is it, my dear?

Well, I didn't know
whether the sergeant should be told.

There's - There's no corset.

Miss lrma's corset. it's missing.

You did right, my dear.

It can't possibly be of any interest.

♪ The north wind brings me no rest ♪

Any number of unsolved murders there are.

Take -
Take Jack the Ripper, for instance.

The police are up there again,
naturally.

Thick as flies.

Someone reported seein' a - a light
flashing around a pigsty...

on a place about a mile from the rock.

There's some questions
got answers and some haven't.

No.

There'll be a solution turn up directly,
more'n likely.

A kidnappin'.

Or, you know...

something like that.

They might have fallen down a hole.

No, no.

There's a solution somewhere, all right.

There's gotta be.

Come over here. Come on.

Over here.

Did you know, lad,
there are some plants that can move?

No.

Miss Lumley said you wanted to see me,
Mrs. Appleyard.

That is correct.

Come in.

Close the door, please.

I have written several letters
to your guardian, Mr. Cosgrove, Sara...

but I have not been favored
with a reply thus far.

In fact, it is all of six months
since I have received a letter...

or a check.

I therefore have no alternative
but to cancel all your extras.

This means that, as of today...

you can no longer partake
in dancing or drawing lessons.

And unless all your outstanding fees
are paid by Easter...

I'm afraid we shall have to make
other arrangements.

You know what that means, don't you, Sara?

You will have to go away.

There are places for girls
in your predicament.

Institutions.

Now off you go.

Sara.

Sara! What's wrong with you?

Are you feeling ill?

People don't sit on cold steps in the dark
unless they're weak in the head.

You heard the bell.
Go and wash for supper.

Aren't you hungry?

Then you best go straight to bed.

Quickly.

Tell Mamsell I don't want it. Thank you.

But you must eat.
You'll get sick if you don't.

I'm sick already.

- If I eat that, I'll be even sicker.

Nonsense.
Now come on, Miss Sara.

Do you know what, Minnie?

No. What?

I was in an orphanage once.

Were you, Sara?

I had a brother then...

called Bertie.

I told the matron I wanted
to be a lady circus rider...

on a white horse in a spangled dress.

She was afraid I'd run away,
so she shaved my head.

I bit her arm. It bled.

So she painted my head
with gentian violet.

♪ Woe the falling forest ♪

♪ The north wind
brings me no rest ♪

♪ And death is in the sky ♪

♪ I love you, Minnie N

I love you, darlin'.

I feel sorry for them kids.

The ones on the rock, you mean?

Yeah, them too.

I was thinkin' of them
other poor little devils...

here at the college.

Them?

They're all right.

Rollin' in cash, most of them.

- Or at least their mothers and fathers are.
- Some of them are orphans.

Or wards or -

You know.

Now I know.

What do you know?

What do you know?

I know that Miranda is a Botticelli angel.

Hold it right there,
thanks, gentlemen. That's it.

Now smile, please.
Come on. Big smile.

- Thank you. Thank you.

Thanks, Sergeant.

Lindsay.

Lindsay!

- Get those women over here, please.

Arthur!

Now, they crossed the creek down there -

The rope. Not that stuff. The other.

- Give me that rope over here.

What about a cup of tea up here?

- Ah, tea.
- Ah.

Hello!

- All gather over here, please.

All searchers over here.
All those not engaged.

- All those not engaged.

- Come over here, please.
- Good. Good.

As if looking up. Right up.

That's it.
Looking for a cave or something like that.

- Little more expression in the face, sir.

Hello, Irma.

Madame Fitzhubert showed me in.

How do you feel?

Oh, Irma!

Oh, Irma.

We thought you had gone forever.

Let me look at you, chérie.

Oh. You are so pale.

But prettier than ever.

Has the nephew paid you a visit yet?

The one who found you.

Yes.

And the policeman.

And you couldn't -

I remember... nothing.

Nothing! I remember nothing!

Morning.

Send that reporter packing!

Girls. Girls, get inside at once!

There you are, Miranda, dear.

You liked these best.

Mr. Whitehead gave them
to me to give to you.

My dear.

My sweet Miranda.

She likes daisies best of all.

Oh, Sara. Sara.

You do know
that Miranda might not come back.

Miranda knows lots of things
other people don't know.

Secrets.

She knew she wouldn't come back.

Fanny, you are ridiculously out of step.
Pay attention to the music, please!

Excuse me, Miss Lumley.

Voila, mes enfants.
See who we have with us today?

Our dear Irma is with us
but for a few hours.

She is leaving soon
to join her parents in Europe.

Alors, mes enfants.

For 10 minutes,
you may talk as you choose.

If you approve, Miss Lumley.

- Tell us, Irma! Tell us!
- Yes, Irma. Tell us.

- Tell us, Irma! Tell us!
- What happened to Miranda, Irma?

- Tell us!
- You know what happened.

- Tell us, Irma!

Why won't you tell us, Irma?
You know where they are!

Tell us, Irma! Tell us!

They're dead!
All dead and gone, Irma!

She's going to you know where!

You are a liar and a fool!

Mamsell? Mamsell?

It's for her own good!
To cure her terrible stooping!

Mon Die u.

Come in.

Well? Come in.

My notice, ma'am.

Have we an invalid in the house?

Miss Sara's supper, mum.

Mademoiselle asked me,
seeing as the child's feeling poorly.

Oh.

- Minnie.
- Hmm?

Kindly tell Miss Sara not to put her light out
until I've had a word with her.

Yes, mum.

This is not a charitable institution.

You recall our recent discussion, Sara.

Answer me when I address you, child.

Yes.

I have considered
your situation most carefully...

and I have searched
my mind and my conscience for a solution.

But this is not
a charitable institution...

and as your fees
have not been forthcoming...

I have been forced to make,
uh, certain arrangements on your behalf.

You will be returned to the orphanage.

Oh, God help me.

- You still thinking about that bloody rock?
- I can't help it.

It comes back at night in dreams.

- Oh, I had a funny dream last night.
- Hmm?

There was this smell. Real strong.

It was like -
like I was wide awake. Dead quiet.

Pansies. That's what it smelt like.

And the whole place was all lit up,
bright as day.

Pitch-black outside.

- And there she is.
- Who?

- Who was it?

It was only a bloody dream.

My kid sister.
Haven't seen her since the orphanage.

Well, she always liked pansies.

Then she went all sort of...

misty-like.

I calls out, “Sara, don't go yet.”

“Good-bye, Bertie,” she says.

“I've come a long way to see ya...

and now I must go.”

And she went.

Clear through that wall over there.

Sit down, please, Mademoiselle.

Merci.

We were speaking last night
about the Waybourne girl.

You expressed concern
over the state of her health.

Yes, Madame.

We have been relieved
of any further responsibility.

Her guardian, Mr. Cosgrove, arrived this
morning and took her away with him.

But -

But was she fit enough to travel?

Apparently.

I should have been here
to supervise her packing.

I, myself, helped Sara put a few things
she especially wanted...

into her little covered basket.

Mr. Cosgrove was in a hurry to get away.

I shall not be coming
in to luncheon, Mademoiselle.

Kindly tell them
not to lay a place for me.

Nor for Sara?

Nor for Sara.

Is that rouge I see
on your cheek, Mademoiselle?

Powder, Madame. I find it becoming.

Well, well, well!

Oh, God.

Bye! Bye-bye!

Thank you very much
for the lovely breakfast!

Bye'bye!

Ye bye, missus! Bye_bye!

Hope you have a nice holiday!

Bye-bye!

Bye-bye!

- Au revoir!
- Au revoir!

♪ >J' Frére Jacques' ♪

Au revoir, mes enfants. Au revoir.

- ♪ Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? ♪
- ♪ Frére Jacques ♪

Au revoir!

♪ Sonnez Ies matinee
Sonnez Ies matinee' ♪

Arthur, my late husband, and I...

always took our annual
holidays in Bournemouth.

Mmm. it's a delightful place.

Absolutely delightful.

Nothing changed.

Ever. Not for 40 years.

There's the pier
and the sands and the people.

And that guesthouse.

So dependable.

Completely and utterly dependable.

- A little more, Mamsell?
- No, Madame.

As you wish.

I came to depend so much
on Greta McCraw.

So much masculine intellect.

I came to rely on that woman...

trust her.

How could she allow herself
to be spirited away?

Lost.

Raped.

Murdered in cold blood
like a silly schoolgirl...

on that wretched Hanging Rock.

Will Sara Waybourne
be coming back this term, Madame?

Oh.

Now where was I?

Oh, yes.

Bournemouth.

What a delightful place.

Nothing changed.

Even

- Bloody kids.

Oh!

Oh!

Sara.

Sara!

The body of Mrs. Arthur Appleyard...

principal of Appleyard College...

was found at the base of Hanging Rock
on Friday the 27th of March, 1900.

Although the exact circumstances
of her death are not known...

it is believed she fell
while attempting to climb the rock.

A search for the missing schoolgirls
and their governess...

continued spasmodically
for the next few years without success.

To this day,
their disappearance remains a mystery.