Original subtitles

It's Sanskrit.

"The black death

is upon the house...

Is upon the house."

That's enough for this evening!

How do you feel? - Fine.

Would you assist me? Your husband needs to rest now.

You look rather fatigued.

I've told you, you ought to stop with these séances.

They excite you and drain your energy.

You need all your strength to get well.

Don't talk nonsense, I beg of you, Charles.

I can't do without these séances.

They help me penetrate the mysteries of another world.

A world

to which I feel

I already belong.

You'll never recover if you carry on like this.

Good!

All I desire is death!

Quickly! Immediately!

No!

John! Have you lost your mind?!

It's pointless.

Why don't you let the poison

do its work?

John, drink the antidote, quickly!

Come on, swallow!

Why... why?

You gave me a terrible fright.

Don't you realize that you must recover?

It's your duty!

Not just to yourself but to science, to humankind!

Your extraordinary cure could one day restore millions to full health!

You're right.

I shouldn't forget that this is an arduous battle for you as well.

It's a grave responsibility for a doctor

to agree to administer

two poisons to a patient.

Yes, it's true, they're poisons,

but they will bring your limbs back to life, I am certain of it!

Thank you, Charles, for the courage you give me.

And if one day you should change your mind,

you can always get rid of me.

All you need do is miscalculate the dosage

or not give me the antidote.

Who would ever know?

You already have a declaration written in my own hand

that you are only carrying out

my orders.

Enough of that kind of talk.

Do as I tell you, try to get some rest.

I have to go to the hospital.

I'll see you this evening.

Come here, Catherine.

Pour me a glass of gin.

- I don't know where it is. - It's over there!

Hidden behind the books!

More. More!

But the doctor said that alcohol is bad for you.

To hell with the doctor.

The mistress is returning.

You're late.

You stayed in the garden longer than usual today.

Forgive me, dearest.

How could I not? It was such a lovely day.

Don't apologize.

It makes my infirmity weigh upon me even heavier than usual.

John...

Please...

Don't be so bitter.

It's hard to resign oneself.

I saw you out there in the garden

with Charles.

You were so distant, so far away from me and from everything.

You looked so happy,

perhaps because I wasn't there.

It's true, I was happy because Charles told me you were improving,

slowly, but enough to hope for your recovery.

Good old Charles.

The suave Doctor Livingston.

An angel of goodness

and a faithful friend.

If you're jealous of him, you only need change doctors.

He's not the only one in the country!

No!

But he is the only one

who agreed

to test my cure on me.

So all the care I display for you,

the tenderness that I show towards you,

the love I give you,

mean nothing to you?

Hm?

I beg you,

let us change the subject.

Don't worry, Catherine.

I will serve my husband his tea.

Here you are, my dear.

You aren't going to finish it?

No, thank you.

No, John!

You should have let me do it.

I already belong to death.

Please,

don't say such things.

One day, you will perhaps regret

preventing me from killing myself.

Who gave you that gun?

Was it Catherine?

No.

I have always kept it hidden

here among my books.

Did you call, madam?

No.

Prepare the master's bed.

Come.

Come.

Charles...

Please, help me put an end to this nightmare.

I can't, truly I can't.

I can't continue acting out this farce!

Pretending to be a devoted wife...

Even... even touching him disgusts me.

If you only knew how much I hate him.

Please, help me free myself from him!

No, it's not possible.

And you know it as well as I do!

I thought that you loved me.

That you would do anything for me.

Yes, anything.

But not that.

But don't you see that he's getting better?!

Only superficially.

Yes, the cure stimulates him and gives him occasional bursts of vitality,

but it can't halt his illness.

You'll see, my love. We won't have to wait long.

No, I don't believe you.

You said he could stay like this for years and years.

And now you're trying to trick me.

Don't you understand that I can't take any more?!

Yes, I know, it's different for you. You can come and go as you please,

forget all about it, even leave me--

I will never leave you.

Then free me.

Remember, Charles, that if you don't do it, I will!

No, I don't believe it!

- I'll do it. - Margaret!

I swear it.

Do you remember?

That restaurant in Copenhagen?

When we dined together for the first time?

So many years ago.

You do remember, don't you?

Yes, my dear.

The waiter insisted that we drink

that Dutch gin of his.

I was a real man back then.

A doctor.

Full of high hopes and grandiose ideas.

And you...

You were a beautiful young woman

without a penny to your name.

How drunk we were.

We were like two students on holiday.

Keep still, my dear. I don't want to cut you.

Pour me a drink.

You know you shouldn't drink.

In memory of days gone by.

It helps me remember.

Good evening, dear Reverend Owens.

You are a picture of health!

Good evening, Mrs. Hichcock.

You too look marvelous, my friend.

You look much better today.

Do you really think so?

I undoubtedly owe it to my darling wife,

to the good Doctor Livingstone,

to Dutch gin,

and the happy memories evoked by an old waltz.

Very well, seeing as you are in excellent humor this evening,

I can hope that you will have the patience to hear me out.

Oh, no thank you, doctor. I never drink.

In truth, what I have to tell you, dear friend, is rather embarrassing.

Pray proceed, what does it concern?

Have you come to inform me that townsfolk still gossip

about the devilish rituals which are carried out

in the ill-famed house of the wheelchair-bound Dr. Hichcock?

Please, don't joke about a matter of this sort.

Are you also convinced that I am in the habit of summoning the Devil, Rev. Owens?

The Devil is more real than our modern world can believe, I guarantee it.

I beg you, give up these experiments.

I appeal to you as a man of science!

As such you should be the first to scorn these superstitions!

They are not superstitions, I assure you.

There is a scientific basis for all of it.

I warn you, Dr. Hichcock,

that you are playing with forces which would be better left alone.

I implore you to limit your studies to normal scientific research like this!

No, don't touch that!

That vial contains curare,

one of the most lethal of poisons.

If you had a tiny scratch on your hand

and a drop of that liquid came into contact with it,

you would undoubtedly end your days in a wheelchair like me.

Curare can kill.

And in small doses, it paralyzes.

Forgive me, I didn't know.

I love you, Charles.

I will love you forever.

Forgive me, Charles, just one moment.

Move the queen

to H7.

Checkmate!

Exactly!

If the doctor wasn't here ready to give you your injection,

I'd challenge you to a rematch!

I think it's time we all went home,

otherwise I'll be accused of neglecting my duties as chief of police

and causing a dramatic rise in criminal activity in the county!

Don't forget that envelope.

Don't worry, I won't.

Until tomorrow?

Of course.

If there is a tomorrow for me.

Once, in Africa, a witch doctor said to me,

"The day will come when the sun no more shines on the forest."

If these medicines give you such gloomy thoughts,

I recommend throwing them away.

Personally, I don't believe in medicines.

I think they're worthless concoctions.

You never know.

The wonders of modern science are infinite and mysterious.

Perhaps so, but I still don't believe in them. Goodnight!

Goodnight.

- Until tomorrow. - Goodnight.

I feel unwell.

Hurry!

The antidote, hurry!

What are you waiting for, Charles?!

Give me the antidote!

Hurry!

Hurry!

I'm suffocating!

It's been over an hour since I gave him the injection.

There's nothing more to worry about.

If you are waiting for the master, I'm afraid he won't be coming down.

I'm sorry, it's my fault. He told me to tell you he would be eating in his room.

He's dead.

He's been dead for around an hour.

The Lord is my shepherd.

I shall not want.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil

for Thou art with me.

Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.

Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life

and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

Amen.

No, please, not now.

Don't be upset.

It's all over now.

Forever.

That creature's howling will drive me insane!

You must control yourself, Margaret!

Don't lose your head.

You're finally free. Was that not what you wanted?

Yes, it was.

Make it be quiet, I beg you! Make it be quiet!

Charles...

What is that?

Margaret.

Margaret!

Mar...

...garet...

The mistress sends her apologies. She will be with you in a moment.

How is she?

In truth, not too well.

It's odd, I would never have thought her so sensitive.

She was so brave throughout his illness,

but Mr. John's death shook her

and she has fallen prey to a terrible despondency.

I beg you, doctor, don't abandon this house for the moment.

The mistress needs you.

Yes, I give you my word.

Good day, gentlemen.

Forgive my lateness.

As you know, I had occasion to see poor Dr. Hichcock

a few hours before his death.

He was deeply troubled,

and before our usual game of chess, he dictated to me a new will

which obviously replaces any previous wills.

"Dowbridge, the 14th of November, 1910.

I, John Hichcock,

being of sound mind,

hereby dictate to my lawyer, Mr. Fisher,

my last will and testament as follows:

First, my current home and all its contents

become the property or my wife, Margaret Hichcock, née Whiteman,

as a tangible demonstration of my immense gratitude

for her loving care,

but on condition that she keeps in her service for the rest of her natural life

my housekeeper, Catherine Wood.

Second, that two-thirds of the contents of my safe

in stocks, jewelry, cash and bank deposits,

thus two-thirds of what I have accumulated over my lifetime,

goes to the orphanage directed by Reverend Owens

as an expression of my profound gratitude

for the comfort that his words as a man of the cloth and a friend

often managed to give to my unquiet soul.

The remaining third of my possessions

goes to my wife, who may make what use of them she sees fit.

Third,

all the books and documents regarding my studies

are to be donated to the Academy of Metaphysical Sciences in London."

That's everything.

And now if Mrs. Hichcock would be so kind as to open the safe in my presence.

Ah, the key is in a drawer in that desk.

Would you mind getting it?

There's no key here, Mrs. Hichcock.

That's odd.

Catherine, do you know where it might be?

No, madam.

But I remember that the master always kept it in that drawer.

There's no hurry, madam. Look for it in your own time.

Reverend, given that you are the main beneficiary,

you may, if you wish, put a seal on the safe.

Oh no, Mr. Fisher, I trust Mrs. Hichcock implicitly.

In that case, madam, please inform me as soon as you find the key.

In the event of it not being found, I will be forced to contact the magistrate

who will authorize having it forced open.

- Well? - Nothing.

But it must be somewhere!

No... No...

Stop!

What is it, Catherine?

I wanted to tell you something, madam.

The master sometimes liked to keep the key on his person.

And I remembered seeing him put it in his pocket

several days before he died.

In that case, it should be in his jacket pocket.

Yes, certainly.

But it was the jacket he was buried in.

Magnificent!

John's final prank.

Do you realize that there are hundreds of millions in there

in bonds and jewelry?

And to think that two-thirds of it

will end up in the greedy hands of dear Reverend Owens.

John must be very amused to know the risks we took.

One could die laughing!

Don't you find it very amusing, too, Charles?

Stop it, Margaret!

Margaret! Margaret!

What an idea!

Having himself buried with the key in his pocket!

Can't we break the safe open?

No, but we can still get hold of the key.

Charles, I want it.

I want that key, at any cost.

It's the effect of the injections.

The poison accelerated the decomposition.

Here's the key!

Come along.

Margaret, be brave.

Margaret!

We have the key, that's the important thing.

Come, dear.

Be strong, it has to be done.

Madam?

Go and stop her. She mustn't come in! Hurry!

Madam!

- Madam? - Yes?

- Pardon me, I wanted to-- - Argh!

You poor thing, what a fright! What happened?

Are you badly hurt?

No, it's nothing.

What was it you wanted?

Is Dr. Livingstone upstairs?

Yes, why?

He's wanted at the hospital. An urgent case.

Very well, I'll tell him.

May I help you, madam?

No.

You may go.

Let me help you.

No.

Charles?

You're wanted at the hospital.

What's the matter?

There's nothing in there.

What?

I told you, there's nothing there!

Only letters, papers, and trash!

No, no!

No!

Stop it, Margaret!

Don't shout! Stop it, Margaret!

Stop it!

Do you want everyone to know?

Calm yourself!

Calm yourself.

Come, calm yourself.

Come here.

We'll find it all, sooner or later.

Sit down.

I'll throw the key in the lake.

I must go now.

Charles, is that you?

John!

I saw him...

I saw him!

He was there.

Behind that curtain.

And he was walking

towards me!

Yes...

I shot at him four or five times,

but he kept walking towards me.

It was horrible.

Listen!

It's blood...

It's blood!

Let me go and check. There must be some explanation.

No, Charles. You can't leave me here!

But I must. I'll be right back!

I'm afraid, Charles!

I'm afraid!

Why must you always creep up on me?

Forgive me, madam.

Reverend Owens is downstairs.

He wishes to speak with you.

What does he want?

I wouldn't know. Naturally, he didn't tell me.

- Madam. - Good morning.

Please have a seat.

Oh, forgive me, madam.

I was very sad that you were absent this morning.

Certainly it can't have been forgetfulness

that prevented you from coming.

- Where? - To your husband's funeral service.

This is a small community and your absence--

I thought you had come for the key.

No, for something much more important.

Dr. Livingstone's presence in this house was necessary when your husband was alive,

given the medical attention he required.

But now... Please forgive my frankness,

but a beautiful young widow

should not have a man in her house,

even if he is a dear family friend.

Reverend, are you perhaps trying to imply that Dr. Livingstone

is my lover?

By no means, Mrs. Hichcock!

The thought hadn't occurred to me!

I simply wished to advise you not to fuel this hateful gossip.

Let them gossip all they want.

I have more important things to worry about.

I am speaking only in your best interest, Mrs. Hichcock.

I am absolutely certain of it.

Good day, Reverend.

Good day.

- Have you lost your mind? - Charles!

First you forget to go to your husband's memorial service,

then you throw the reverend out of your house.

Don't you realize how insulting that was?

Don't you see that it was he who insulted me? He dared to imply that...

He implied the truth, Margaret.

And people mustn't discover the truth, as you well know.

I was wrong, but what else could I do?

Act a little more sensibly.

We are playing a very dangerous game.

You know as well as I do that once false move could undo us.

You speak to me as if I were your enemy--

You know very well that isn't so!

If I didn't love you, I wouldn't find myself in this situation.

And you wouldn't have forced me to become your accomplice.

Forced you?!

It was you who killed him!

Never say anything of the kind again! Do you understand?

Let go, Charles, you're hurting me!

You wanted him dead. You obliged me to kill him!

Ignore what I said.

My nerves are in tatters, too.

Your husband reappearing between these walls

has come between us more than he ever did in life.

Every hour, every instant, I feel his presence behind me.

Sometimes I turn around, certain to find myself face to face with him.

And it's not just the imaginings of a...

Margaret,

remaining united is our only hope.

I had better go to my room and try to sleep.

Remember, darling.

We must be very careful.

They'll be watching us.

In fact, it would be a good idea

if you went to pray at your husband's tomb today.

Take some flowers

and make sure people see you.

Very well, as you wish.

I say it for the good of both of us.

You should try to eat something, madam.

It isn't good for you not to eat for days on end.

Take it away.

Should I wait until the doctor returns before I clear the table?

Do you think the doctor will be dining here this evening?

Do you hear it?

- Do you hear it, too?! - Hear what, madam?

You can't expect me to believe you don't hear the music box?

I can't hear anything.

You're lying, Catherine!

Madam! Madam, what's the matter?

Where are you going, madam? Madam?!

Here, madam.

It was the master's snuffbox.

I found it in Dr. Livingstone's room.

Now I remember.

I was close by the safe when Catherine called me.

And I left him there on his own.

No, it's not possible.

And yet the snuffbox

must have been in the safe.

What a fool I've been!

I know what you seek, Margaret.

But it isn't here.

It isn't here.

John!

You will find it

in

my tomb.

Directly beneath

my

coffin,

there is

a safe hiding place

for the jewelry

you so

covet.

If you are courageous enough

to profane

my tomb once again,

all that immense fortune will be yours.

Just

as

you have always desired.

You!

How dare you spy on me!

It is wrong of you to treat me in this way.

Who came here before me?

Who was it?

Who was it?!

It's not difficult to guess.

Who else could have known apart from you?

Someone who lives in the house

and who is very close to you.

No, no, it can't be!

And yet it is, even if you don't want to believe it.

- What are you doing? - Margaret, I'm leaving.

So suddenly? Why?

Because I have realized that everything we once dreamed of

is gradually being destroyed.

Even if we found the money and left, it would already be too late.

We would only torment one another.

That is our punishment.

Perhaps there is someone waiting for you?

Another woman you love more than me.

Don't talk nonsense.

Don't you realize that it's precisely because I still love you

that I fear remorse will one day make us enemies?

How is it that your conscience has so suddenly reawakened?

Ask me rather why it kept silent until now.

I must have been in the grip of madness to do what I did.

No, Charles, I beg you. You can't leave me.

Please, don't insist. I have made up my mind.

Listen.

I didn't shrink from any act in order to have you for myself.

I've never wanted anything else in my whole life!

What will I do now, alone?

Don't you understand that we are already alone?

No bond can ever again unite us!

Living together would truly be a nightmare.

But I love you, Charles! I can't live without you!

At one time, you loved your husband, too,

but that love soon faded.

You'll free yourself of my memory the way you freed yourself of him!

It's not true! Don't leave me!

To think that I didn't want to believe it...

I refused to believe my own eyes. And instead...

How can the jewels be...

You can't think that I--

What am I supposed to think? It's all so clear now.

I should have realized it that day when you wanted

to be alone with the safe! - Have you lost your mind?

You're a thief! A thief and a murderer!

You stole the jewels, that's why you're running away!

I'm not--

- Murderer! - Quiet, Margaret!

Thief! Thief! Thief!

You lied to me!

You've been lying to me the whole time!

Margaret, no! Have you lost your mind?

I swear it had never crossed my mind to steal from you.

In any case, it's better this way.

At least you'll be persuaded we should never see one another again.

No!

No!

No!

No!

Why are you trembling so?

Are you so very moved to see me again?

You ought to be used to me returning.

This time, though, it is really me.

In the flesh.

Do you feel how strong my hands are?

But I'm not going to kill you.

No, I'm not going to kill you.

That would be too merciful of a punishment.

And I have something better reserved for you,

which is the result of your own actions.

You cut yourself when you were lifting out the treasure casket,

didn't you?

I had coated it with poison.

Curare.

Did you know that curare paralyzes?

From now on, that chair will be yours,

while I will go far away to enjoy my wealth.

The wealth that you and that poor soul, Charles,

so desperately sought in vain.

Ah, I almost forgot to tell you that you were wrong about Charles.

He hadn't stolen that jewelry.

It was Catherine who put it in his valise.

He truly loved you, and you...

- George... - I had foreseen it all.

It was also Catherine who loaded the revolver with blanks

when you shot at my ghost.

And then, while you were unconscious,

I fired some real bullets into the wall.

And you both lost your minds with terror.

Just think, it all began the night I realized

that I truly was getting better.

I came to give you the good news...

And found you in Charles' arms!

You had decided to free yourselves of me!

But I exchanged the curare

with a substance capable of

giving me the appearance of death.

I put another body in my coffin

and sent you on an exhausting hunt for the inheritance,

persecuting you incessantly day and night.

Appearing to you as a ghost

was actually very simple.

Isn't that right, Catherine?

Is everything ready for our departure, Catherine?

- Yes, sir. - Very good.

Thank you for all that you have done for me.

You have been truly invaluable.

- You are too kind. - Go now.

I'm sorry, I had no choice.

You were the only witness.

I have to ask you

one final favor, Margaret.

Your fingerprints on the pistol.

There we are!

That way it was you who killed her, too.

Poor Catherine.

When she contacted the police just now, as I had told her to,

she certainly didn't imagine that as well as reporting you for Charles' murder,

she would be accusing you

of her own death as well.

Soon

you will be totally paralyzed.

The police.

They're already arriving.

That obliges me to leave you earlier than I had planned.

I'm sorry.

I'm very sorry, my dear.

Ah!

My trusty old gin!

I see you are taking up all my old habits!

You'd poured yourself a glass.

To your good health, my dearest!

Or rather, to your infirmity...

And to the sweet memories of Copenhagen.

What a pity you didn't know there was a secret passage in this room.

We could have met now and then.

Help!

What's happening to me?!

I don't feel...

I don't feel well...

I can't breathe!

That bottle over there!

On the table!

Give me that bottle!

It's the antidote!

We can still save ourselves!

Help me!

I beg of you!

Give me the antidote, Margaret!

The antidote, quickly!

Here.

We'll be saved...

Both of us...

Come closer...

Here.

Take her away.

I told you, Dr. Hichcock.

The Devil is more real than people think.