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Mount pickets and keep a watch.

Bring hemp, wrap the officers.

Bury the rest...

over there.

Mary: That as Thou
hast raised up my body

from fast and sound sleep,

so also Thou would deliver
my mind from the sleep of sin.

Did they change the
prayers for middle sleep?

I'm praying for us.

Before first sleep,
second sleep,

morning, afternoon,
and night again.

Don't you see that
this plague is a sign?

- Mary...
- God is sending you a message.

Look, it's not a plague.

It's maggots. They happen.

Perhaps it's the Lord's grace.

We can leave here and move
in with your father at Whitehall

before winter comes.

Come here. Come here.

Look.

You see that?

We still have over half our
crop stored safe in the shed.

I'll haul it to the green
tomorrow and sell it.

How much will that make?

It'll be enough to make
it through the winter.

Then what about spring?

We'll have nothing
left to reseed the field.

We're not moving
in with my father.

Did we wake you up, little man?

Come here, come here.

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

Here, I'll show you something.

What's in here?

Oh.

What's this?

Ooh.

Pirate treasure.

Pirate treasure.

Yeah, your pa's
made arrangements.

Huh?

Our little secret,
though, eh, Sprout?

Abraham!

Luke! Jeremiah!

Oh, mercy!

Get back inside!

♪ Hush, hush ♪

♪ There's snakes
in the garden... ♪

♪ Soul for sale... ♪

♪ Blood on the rise ♪

♪ Hush, hush ♪

- ♪ I can't wait anymore ♪
- ♪ Soul for sale... ♪

♪ I can't wait anymore ♪

♪ Hush, hush. ♪

Did anyone else see them?

No.

They wore masks of Guy Fawkes

like the ones the soldiers are
making for their bonfire night.

Could've been soldiers,
could've been anybody.

A royal officer gets his throat
slit and the killer walks free,

and there are many in this town
believe you got away with murder

because you are my son.

Look.

What is this?

You accused me of
lying to you in your house

and you were right.

I wasn't robbed by
rebels, as I told the major.

Instead, I cut my own scar,

I buried the silver by the shore,
and I used the silk to sell my story.

Now, I did all those things...

but I did not kill Captain Joyce

nor any other man in my life,

and nor will I until God
meets me for judgment.

This is the profit
from your smuggling?

I undertook a risk

to take care of my
farm and my family

on my own terms...

when I should have
accepted your offer to help.

I knew in my heart
you didn't do this.

That's why I kept
your name from my list.

What list?

Major Hewlett will have
justice for Captain Joyce.

He requested I make a list

of the most likely and
suspected individuals.

Well, now that we
know that it's not me,

maybe the next
rogue on your list

is the same bastard
who fired my farm.

The next name on
my list is Anna Strong.

And before you protest,
acknowledge the facts.

Following the brawl with Joyce,
her husband was imprisoned

and her estate made vulnerable,

and she's always been someone
who acted without thought.

- Now may I protest?
- No.

No.

Man: Bring in Guy Fawkes.

Whoa.

Here's to defeat.

Everyone's speaking of
the ambush in Connecticut.

Looks like your
message got to Ben.

Captain Joyce.

He was quartered in
your home, was he not?

Joyce, aye.

In the room Captain Simcoe took.

Won't have to worry about
either of them now, do we?

You may have to
worry about Joyce.

My father believes
that you killed him,

and he plans to
say so to Hewlett.

I need to look through
the captain's belongings,

try and find something that
can tell me about the man.

What?

I don't know exactly.

I mean, he obviously
kept secrets.

Why else would he
walk to Lewis Field

in the middle of the
night to get his throat cut?

His trunk is in my
home. I'll look through it.

For now, let's celebrate.

Captain Simcoe's gone
to heaven and we did that.

More rum, please.

Can't get the ball out.
At least with my knife.

Then let's toast to that.

Ben: He's awake
now, ready to talk.

Caleb: He's ready to die, yeah?

Hey, you didn't promise Abe
this lobster would vanish, all right?

I did.

Look, there is a
greater obligation here.

Someone has been
whispering into the enemy's ear,

and the only ones that
knew about the location

of that safe house were
ranked well above me.

Yeah, and him.

You truly think that Captain
Simcoe, last week Lieutenant,

is gonna know the name of a
turncoat in our buff and blues?

Huh?

He's low on the chain, Ben.

Yeah, he may know enough.

We'll have a surgeon
attend to his leg at camp.

I'd like a word with
the captain now.

A word?

Do you suppose pain
will rob me of reason?

Oh, I should hope not.

You should not hope.

It wastes your time and my
rum, of which there is little left.

I'm afraid I...

Even given the tragic state
of the Continental Army,

this is no way to
detain a fellow officer,

which is how I know
that after our "word,"

you mean to extinguish me.

You may as well do so now.

This rum tastes like piss.

Think they'll stop him in time?

It'll be more
interesting if they don't.

What's the name of the dead
man that told you I was here?

Andre: Funny you should ask.

I believe you
misplaced one of those

to an intrepid young dragoon.

Where?

I told you, a rebel safe
house in Connecticut.

After you turned me
down, I turned to another,

a warden of some
backwater in Long Island.

He sent 20 men.
Apparently not the right men.

That bonnet was
found with their corpses.

Perhaps your precious
source in New Jersey

is having a laugh.

Sounds like your
ambush was ambushed.

I intend to...

reexamine New Jersey.

I thought you might be
interested in a trip to Connecticut,

seeing as the bonnet
doth bellow for revenge.

What's the name
of the backwater?

Oh, some little fish town

you've probably never
heard of called Setauket.

Anna's voice: "My
dearest captain,

when last we were
together under the stars,

I felt you were holding
back your true feelings

and most tender words.

There is so much I
wish for myself to say,

but I thought better to
wait until you spoke first.

Please forgive
my forward nature,

but I must make my
feelings known to you.

It is my great happiness that
this war would bring us together

and my great agony
that I cannot spend

each day and every
night in your embrace."

And so on like this for a while.

But let me get
to the telling part.

She writes, she cannot wait
for Joyce to sound retreat here.

"For even though
it be end of day,

mine ears hear reveille
in the rising sun."

"Sound retreat."

That'll be their signal.

Like the petticoat I
hanged for Caleb.

Yeah, it's clever 'cause Captain Joyce
could have the regiment's drummer

sound any alarm he wished to
test readiness, so sound retreat...

And, at the same time, signal to
meet under the tree at Lewis Field.

Exactly.

Why do you suppose that trysts
are always held under a tree?

It was good enough
for Adam and Eve.

It was good enough for us.

Tell me, Philomena,

how did you come to be a player?

I admire you.

What skill.

Oh, I merely pretend
at the heroics, sir.

You live them out.

Now I can say to my friends

that I was paid a compliment

by Major John Andre
of the King's Army.

Tell me, how many men
are under your command?

In a way, the whole theater
of war falls under my concern.

I'm special adjutant

in charge of gathering
intelligence, you see.

Oh?

I divine what the enemy
plans to do before they do it.

General Howe applies his
military strategy on the field

with the discipline and
precision of a science,

but what I do...

is closer to an art.

Mm.

Now, if the prospect
of a lone woman

overpowering a royal
officer is too much,

I submit Mrs. Strong
could've hired a cutthroat

from some nearby
port to do the deed.

The matter of Captain
Joyce's death will be addressed,

but my priority now is
to secure this garrison.

This loss has made
us vulnerable to attack.

- Sir?
- Yes?

A Major Robert Rogers
from New York to see you, sir.

Major?

That's a letter of introduction

from your friend, John Andre.

Ah, well, the famed Robert
Rogers needs no introduction.

Welcome to Setauket, sir.

This man here is our local
magistrate, Richard Woodhull.

- Major, it's an honor.
- Thank you, Richard.

Now, you must be
tired after your journey.

Perhaps you would
just like to rest

or have a proper
discussion over dinner.

Here about the
business in Connecticut.

I should like to question
your officers who ran the raid.

They are dead, sir.

Not all of them.

Captain Simcoe is still missing.

Then I should very
much like to question him.

It says there that you're
to give me what I require

so that I may find the
chalker who left me that.

Yes, I did wonder why

a cap of the Queen's Rangers
was found at the ambush.

It was left for me

by a young cavalryman

who felled one of my men.

And 19 of mine.

All by himself?

Obviously not.

How many of them
was there, then?

Ah, you don't know

'cause you didn't
count the tracks,

and you buried the bodies

that could tell us the tale,

except for them highborn lads

who paid for passage
back to London Town.

Upon reflection,
I do not believe

I shall be able to
host dinner tonight.

Please accept my apology.

You fancy that I wish to spend
one more hour than necessary

in this clammy province?

I should like to
question your officers.

Here they are.

All pickled in rum.

- The barrels are sealed.
- Not for long.

You said only three
were recovered.

Who's the fourth?

That would be Captain Joyce.

Who in the hell's Captain Joyce?

He was a troubled officer.

He was found murdered
in a field here last week.

I'm examining the
situation very closely.

His death is not
connected to theirs

and should be no
concern of yours.

Oh.

So you think it bad luck, then,
his murder so close to theirs.

- I think a coincidence, yes.
- "Coincidence"?

I've seen all manner of
strange things in this life,

but never one of those.

Now, why don't you tell me all
about troubled Captain Joyce?

Thank you, Captain Tallmadge.

Tallmadge?

That's one of the family
names where I'm stationed.

You must hail from Setauket,

like your man
here, mister, um...

Caleb Brewster, Your Grace.

I do apologize for
my ill manners before.

It was my leg talking.

Again, the apology is all mine.

You had every right
to doubt my intentions.

Now, then...

to business.

What is it you wish to know?

Oh, nothing, sir. We
already know all we need to.

Truly?

You know where we mean to
strike after retaking New York?

We know you have 4,000 men

stationed at Throgs
Neck in Brooklyn

as part of your
occupation force.

4,000?

Try six.

Well, it doesn't really
matter how many.

You'll never catch
Washington anyway.

Ah, yes, the old fox.

Well, it's not my
duty to bag him.

I leave that to the
brothers Howe.

Oh, of course, though I
suppose General Howe

might be slowed a bit
by the ash pile in the city.

Ashes dissolve in the sea.

Our navy is not only the
mightiest on Earth, it is the fastest.

But where will it sail?

Well, I suppose
it doesn't matter

because you already know.

I'm sorry.

"Mock not nor jest at
another man's misfortune

though there seem
to be some cause."

No, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

It's my turn now.

Hey, hey, how much
wood would a Woodhull haul

if a Woodhull could haul wood?

It's good to see you came down.

Thought you might not.

- Yeah?
- Well, we all heard about your accident.

Oh, right.

That was no accident.

No, I just cooked up
the rest of the cabbage

that my maggots didn't want.

Well, you're loyal
to your friends.

Glad to see you here.

Are you surprised as well?

Judge Woodhull, is this your son

I've heard so much about?

Major Rogers, I don't
believe I mentioned my son.

You didn't. Robert
Rogers, Queen's Rangers.

Abraham Woodhull.

Why don't you fine gentlemen
let me buy you a round

and we shall drink to friends
and traitors alike tonight, eh?

To the enemies of our country,

may they have cobweb breeches,

a porcupine saddle,

a hard-trotting horse,

and an eternal journey.

So, then, what brings
a legend of the frontier

here to Long Island?

Ah, the Rangers go where needed.

Our quarry be those most
dangerous to His Majesty's rule.

General Washington?

Ooh, we'll get him.

But I am now after a man

more deviant and
difficult to track.

Hides not behind an army,

but a thicket of
lies and deception.

So you've come here
looking for a single man?

Perhaps.

Though like all good plots,

there's usually more
than one involved.

Ask your warm friend,
Guy Fawkes out there.

Though usually it's only
one man who takes the credit

and the infamy.

Or immortality.

Oh, beautiful. 1605.

In commemoration of
the 5th of November act,

Parliament issued,
Amsterdam struck.

Passed to me for my services
in the Seven Years' War.

- Mm.
- Huh?

"He who concealed
himself is detected."

Madam, will you drink with us?

- Actually, I have to...
- Oh, no, no.

Please sit.

I was just telling
these good gentlemen

what a fine, uncommon
town you have here.

Uncommon?

Well, for such a tiny hamlet,

there's an unusual amount of
smuggling, arson, and murder.

You're speaking
now of Captain Joyce.

Aye, he's part of a
riddle I'm trying to solve.

A captain lay dead in a field.

One week later, 20
of his men lay dead

in Connecticut with
no enemy casualties

to save their honor.

How did this occur?

I suppose the answer
to that lies in Connecticut.

The old fella brought me here.

- What old fellow?
- Him.

Tells me there's something
corrupt in this town.

- Something concealed.
- I agree.

As you must have
heard, I was suspected

of the captain's
murder for a time.

Although I was
cleared of all suspicion,

the accusation still
vexed me greatly.

So I took it upon myself
to look into the riddle

of the man's death on my own.

- You what?
- You've also likely heard

that the captain was
billeted with Mrs. Strong.

And while she was
cleaning his room,

she discovered a hidden
letter addressed to Joyce.

Mrs. Strong, the letter?

The letter.

It is unsigned,
but it seems to be

from a secret lover
here in Setauket.

When did you find
this letter, Mrs. Strong?

This morning, sir.

And why did you
go to Mr. Woodhull?

Why not straight to Hewlett?

I...

I thought...

I thought, well...

That's all right.

I was in love once myself.

Unfortunately married
at the time, eh?

Then you agree with me.
That if Joyce was done in,

it was by the husband
of the letter writer.

Let's ask Captain Joyce.

All right, let's get him out.

So, here is the gash

that did him in,
across the gullet.

But here is another second stab,

more like a first, done
with a short blade.

Means he turned
his back on his killer.

Means he trusted him.

That's why I thought
Captain Simcoe first, eh?

You think that...

You think that Captain
Simcoe did this?

The only officer not
found at the ambush,

and a man who inherited
the captain's captaincy.

I thought him the serpent I seek

until I read your letter.

Then I knew it could be a woman

done with a paring
knife or a letter opener.

And most likely we
were just with her

and have given her fair warning.

Now... now, wait. You
didn't read the letter.

The letter she gave you.

She found it. It mentions
a signal by drum.

- Sound retreat.
- Yes, exactly.

And there are four other
women by my count...

- Your count? What count?
- Gentlemen...

By my count of those
who work and live

close enough to hear
the company drum.

Good, good. So
there's four of them.

Now, which of those four

would Joyce likely
dip his wick into?

Well, there's...

Hannah Ketcham, who's 74.

Or Loretta Brewster,
who's plagued by palsy,

and that leaves only...

Maarten Dejong's wife, Klara...

And Anna Strong.

So there's two.

I think I have a
way to settle this.

But it makes no sense to
sound retreat at this hour.

The men will be confused,
but the culprit will be alarmed.

- That's what I want.
- Well, I won't allow it.

Captain Joyce had you
play roll call on some days,

sound retreat on others.

Captain Joyce was the
finest officer I ever served with.

But he made you play
drums at odd hours.

To keep the men on
their toes, he'd say.

There was nothing improper.

Thank you, Clayton.
This is foolish.

And after it's done,
so is my work here.

You have my word.

Play.

Which one is Klara?

That one holding the lantern.

Well, it's not Klara.

Major, I wish you well on
your travel back to New York.

You sure you can afford that?

I know it was you.

Meet me where you
killed Joyce, midnight.

We can discuss
where to go from there.

That's far enough.

What do you want,
Woodhull? Money?

I've not enough to
cover your blight.

All I want is for you to admit

that you killed Captain
Joyce last Monday right here.

I thought you were gonna
say you had some proof.

If I prove that this
is your handwriting...

you'll be put to death for
buggery, never mind murder.

Where did you get that?

He kept it hidden.

He protected you,
John, and you killed him.

No, you killed him.

You... you and Selah Strong.

See, it was just like that.

I never even knew I drew it.

Then Selah started
the fight in the tavern.

The fight that they
blamed Charles for,

that he blamed me for.

It was the last night
we were ever to meet.

And I knew his words,
I knew his words.

What he said, he didn't mean it.

And when he turned, I just...

I didn't mean to.

Is that what happened?

You don't know what happened.

Yeah, you were just supposed
to be a scapegoat, is all.

- That's all you are.
- And so you burned my crop

to keep the people thinking
that the town hated me.

That's why I wanted
to burn it, yeah.

He actually thinks
you did the deed.

What?

Who's he?

A loyal drummer.

I told him, "Woodhull
got away with it.

Woodhull's
father's got him free.

Woodhull's laughing about it."

Woodhull! He
just confessed to it!

Crush that cull!

- Crush it!
- Wait, stop!

Hang on a second!

You didn't tell
me there'd be two.

I-I-I didn't know.
I didn't know.

P-please. Please,
sir, have mercy.

Rogers: Shut your hole.

- Shouldn't we...
- Shh, something ain't right.

Don't look so pale, Molly.

We just caught
Captain Joyce's killer.

- What?

Must've resented
playing at all odd hours.

Wait, you just... you just
heard this man confess.

I heard all sorts of
strange tales today.

Sounds that fade away...

tracks that lead nowhere.

And a smell.

Oh, there's something
rotten in Setauket,

but it ain't you.

Oh, you're an aberration,

one that could be of use
now that we know your shame.

I'll do anything.

I know. You'll keep your
eyes open and your trap shut

and you'll look
and you'll listen

and you will sniff out the rot
in this place while I'm away.

See? I'm gonna keep
you alive, Robeson,

as the lowest
form of life there is.

Lower than a sodomite
or a serpent's belly.

A spy.

My spy...

reporting only to me.

No Hewlett, no Regulars.

Now, if you attempt to flee,

Mr. Woodhull here will notify me

- and I will find you.
- No, Major.

- Mr. Woodhull.
- Listen, wait.

I want your word as a gentleman

you'll keep our little secret

until we put Washington's
head in a noose.

And then we'll put that
little bugger's head in one.

I know it's detestable
business, looking after a spy,

but it is a task that you

shall have to
endure for the king.

Aye?

Come to! Come to!

I'm not done with you.

Now, you can make this stop.

But I hope you don't.

It must be its own
torture to live like you do.

On the run.

So close to your home,

and yet not able
to set foot in it.

Except it isn't
your town, is it?

It belongs to our
king. By rights.

It's the arrogance
of the colonies

that you forget this.

That's why I joined
the Royal Army.

To remind you...

in Guiana, the Caribbean...

and now New York.

I've enjoyed reminding
you all over the world.

I think we're done here, Ben.

No.

I'll do it.

- Man: General, sir.
- Scott: Move!

Scott: My God, it's true.

- Let him down.
- Please, sir, allow me to explain.

I've come straight from Fort Lee
upon hearing a disturbing report.

I will be returning
there straight away.

You will return with me
to face disciplinary charges

and most likely court-martial.

- Sir, please, I can explain...
- Scott: Enough!

You shouldn't have
used your own dragoons.

Sir.

I apologize for the
treatment you have received

at the hands of a captain
under my command.

You should know that
we treat fellow officers

with respect,
whether captive or not.

You can expect the proper
courtesy to be afforded to you

from this moment forward.

Thank you, General.

Please don't go too hard
on Captain Tallmadge.

He's been a perfect gentleman.

Philomena: I wish
you could stay.

Andre: Moi aussi.

Can you at least tell me

where your next secret
mission will take you

so I can dream of you there?

I've just completed
my mission...

The recruitment of a
young, talented agent

willing to apply said talents
in service to the crown...

for the aim of ending
this reckless war.

Tell me...

have you ever
been to New Jersey?

I saw your signal to meet.

What is happening around here?

First, your father and
Major Rogers tell me

I'm to report to the
church in the morning,

and then I go,

and Rogers and his
Indian are riding out of town.

Well, he won't be
back. Not for a while.

And now there's a rumor around

that the company drummer
killed Captain Joyce.

- How does that make sense?
- It doesn't.

Right, because then
who wrote the letter?

All I know is...

that the person who wrote
that letter was living two lives.

I've seen where that
double life can lead.

It's straight to hell.

What have you seen?

I've seen that a
signal can be detected

no matter how secret it is.

I don't want you hanging petticoats
for Caleb Brewster anymore.

Abraham, don't be hasty.

Look what we've
accomplished so far.

Captain Simcoe's body
was not found in Connecticut.

Getting rid of him
was the sole reason

I risked talking to Caleb,

and now he may still be alive?

We have accomplished nothing.

And I won't risk you further.

It is too dangerous
for us to meet

or even see each other.