Original subtitles

There's still your fire.

Why, Mr. Wood, what is wrong?

You! It was your idea we come up to this forsaken hole over the weekend.

If I die of pneumonia, it will be your debt to society.

Mr. Wood, I tried to be a competent secretary, but I have absolutely no

control over the element.

How did I know it was going to rain?

See? The paper says fair and warmer.

That's last week's paper.

You're still fired.

How much further do we go?

Won't be long now, Mr. Warren.

Well, it better not be.

Is there something the matter?

I guess we're stuck.

You guess you're stuck.

What are you trying to do, kill me?

Mr. Ames.

Oh, hello, Carraway.

I'm sorry, I didn't recognize this was Dr. Kent's house.

Just a moment, Ames. I don't know who this Dr. Kent is, but I'm getting out of

the storm even if it's to be the missing lady.

Coming in, Mr. Ames.

Ames. Well, this is a surprise.

Couldn't see you.

Yes, I suppose it is a surprise.

We skidded off the road, hit a tree, and became mired in mud, and yours is the

nearest house.

Oh, pardon me, Dr. Kent. This is Herman Wood, the famous theatrical producer.

You no doubt have heard of him, even if you haven't met him.

Delighted, Mr. Wood. You're courageous to face the storms we have up here.

Courageous? Insane, you mean.

How do you do that?

And this is Homer Erskine, his secretary.

How are you, Erskine?

All wet.

I agree with you for once.

Hello, Gloria.

Glad to see me. More than you know.

A certain gentleman here doesn't take our engagement seriously.

Harry. Hello, Ames. How do you do?

Gloria.

This is Mr.

Wood, Mr. Erskine, Miss Shaw, and Mr. Terry Gray.

Oh, Mr. Wood. I've heard so much about you.

Yeah. I was afraid of that.

How are you, young man?

Still quite normal, thank you.

Nice of you all to drop in like this.

Your idea, wasn't it, Ames?

After all, you were invited.

That had nothing to do with it, and I assure you I wouldn't be here now if I

could help it. We were just driving to my place where Mr. Wood was going to

hear me read my latest play.

Another play, Pastor?

My, you are prolific.

Well, play or no play, I ought to be in New York, in bed.

Well, I'm afraid you'll have to remain my guest for the night. My chauffeur

tells me the roads are completely out.

Oh, forgive me for keeping you in these wet things.

I'll have Cataway show you to some rooms immediately.

Then you'll join us for a cocktail before dinner for your staying, of

course. Well, I like the cocktail part of the program.

Oh, Carroway.

Take Mr. Ames and his friends upstairs immediately, owing to the storm they're

going to stay for the evening.

Yes, sir. This way, please.

Who are you?

Why, I'm... You tell her.

I'm beginning to be uncertain of everything.

This is Mr.

Wood. I'm Mr. Erskine, his secretary.

I pity you so much.

You're surrounded by tragedy and sorrow.

Well, you are psychic, Beatrice. Mr. Wood is the greatest producer of

tragedies and dramas in the country.

You mean he... was.

Hey, uh...

Ames, about this play of yours.

Why, yes, it's in my bag.

As long as we can't reach my place, why not let me read it to you here?

I just remembered an important appointment tomorrow in the city. I must

return tonight.

Isn't that right?

Yes, absolutely.

He has to address the Traveler's Aid Society.

On the proper way to fold a timetable. My dear Mr.

Wood, I would gladly assist you, but until the storm abates, there's no way

of reaching the city.

Well, we may as well accept the situation, Mr. Wood.

We'll have a good dinner and then retire to Dr. Kent's study for a nice, quiet

reading. Perhaps it'll make you appreciate my play all the more. They

say a full stomach breeds tolerance.

Well, something tells me I shall need it.

This is your room. You've used it before.

This way, gentlemen, please.

This is yours, sir. And this is yours.

Just a moment.

Have that coat dried out.

Yes, sir. Right away, sir.

Anything else, sir?

Yes. Close the door when you go out. Yes, sir.

Well, the ghost walks tonight or never.

You don't sound very hopeful.

To the contrary.

Not only hopeful, but brave.

I'm going to ask you to marry me and go to California.

Where the sun always shines and the oranges fall from the trees to your

breakfast table.

That's a beautiful picture on a stormy night like this.

But with or without the oranges and sunshine, you know I won't marry you,

Terry. Because I love someone else.

Terry! Pardon me?

You're not a very easy man to discourage, are you?

You forget that Gloria here is engaged to a mutual friend of ours.

I don't think that's any of your business. Look here, Gray.

I don't like your attitude.

In fact, I don't think I like anything about you. So what?

Why must you two always act like gladiators? Be sensible.

Tonight of all nights must not be the time for any discord.

You know I've never given you cause to think of me as more than a friend.

That depends on your viewpoint.

I might argue that statement. I'd like to give you the thrashing you deserve

for those insinuations. Please.

We'll discuss this later.

Listen.

Did you hear that scream?

Yes. It sounded like a grand opera star with acute indigestion.

Worse than that. It sounded like something I'm hearing.

Oh, pure imagination.

If I allowed a noise like that to scare me, your voice would have killed me long

ago. Look here. Are you trying to insinuate I'm afraid?

I'm just nervous. What kind of a madhouse is this? Oh, don't be so

excitable. It's... Probably your liver acting up again.

Have you your pills?

My pills?

Any of you folks hear a scream?

Yes, it frightened me too.

I guess I can't understand where it came from.

Tell them where it came from, Ames. You've heard it before.

Why scare your friends unnecessarily?

Perhaps you're right.

Any scream you may have heard probably came from Beatrice's room.

She's Dr.

Kent's patient and Mr.

Gray's sister.

You met at the foot of the stairs.

She's just a little irrational at times.

Well, as far as I know, it's nothing to worry about. Simply emotional outbursts.

Don't you just love a night like this?

This old house seems to belong in the rain and thunder.

I read a book once about an old, old house. And oh, I don't know how many

murders happen on just such a night as this.

Was that the clock?

I guess so. I think so. It must have been. But it's a union clock.

What do you mean?

Well, it strikes any old time.

I met her with Beatrice.

Yes, John.

I am waiting.

For you.

I am waiting.

That woman gives me goose pimples. I've seen saner people than her in asylums.

I'm sorry this had to happen. Beatrice's spells are unnerving to a stranger, but

after one gets to know her... Know her? Say, if I never see her again, I'll be

satisfied. Now, if you'll be so kind as to find some method for me to leave this

house, see that I take it.

Oh, Prescott, we couldn't let you do that with your friend.

I think your friend is unduly alarmed, Ames. Oh, is that so? Well, who asked

you? He has high blood pressure. He should calm himself.

Miss Beatrice's actions are nothing to fear. She simply dwells in the unknown.

As her attending physician, I can speak freely. The girl suffers from

hallucinations and the shock of a tragedy that occurred in this house

three years ago this night.

Mr. Ames remembers that night very distinctly, no doubt.

That's why he shuns my house.

Dr. Kent, I see no reason for making my sister's grief public talk.

I bet the doctor's going to tell us about some terrible operation.

That ought to be cheerful.

The unsolved murder of your sister's husband must be public talk in this

house. Murder?

I have taken notes on her actions since that night, and each year, at this hour,

the flutter of that sound is heard, and she has acted as though the spirit of

John, her dead husband, had returned to her. That's all there is to it.

Erskine, we're leaving.

Dinner is served, sir.

No, we're not.

Ghosts or no ghosts, we're eating.

We're leaving.

You're disobeying my orders.

No, I'm not. You fired me an hour ago.

Gloria, James.

Mr. Wood, Mr. Eskin.

Hope you're all as hungry as I am.

Just give me an aspirin. Just give me anything but a tomato surprise. I've had

shocks enough.

This is about as cheerful as an undertaker's picnic in a cemetery.

You're right on time, John.

I was so afraid you might disappoint me.

Mr. Wood, I think you're right.

We better leave now that John's here.

Yes, Erskine, I'm not a cowardly man by nature, but my nerves won't stand this

any longer.

That woman is dangerous.

My friends, please.

I regret these unusual disturbances, but I've experienced these same phenomena in

my patient's presence before.

There's nothing to fear from the dead.

I believe in spirits, but only spirits.

Hear me?

Beatrice, please, your brother wishes you to restrain yourself.

My dear brother seems frightened, as well he should be, just like

all the rest of you are.

Please, Beatrice, there are guests here, friends of Mr. Ames.

What do they mean to me?

You, Terry Gray.

You, Miss Gloria Shaw.

And you, my delightful friend, know what that blood stain is.

You were at this table the night poor John fell forward and stained the cloth

with his own blood.

The night he was murdered.

By one of you.

Well, that's a lie.

Open that door.

Claire, I'll call the police. This is outrageous. Open that door.

Unloosen that portal.

I'm sorry, Miss Beatrice's orders are that no one leave.

Jarvis is only partly correct.

I gave that order.

What's the idea?

The idea, my friend, is to protect my patient's health.

Any interruption might cause the loss of her sanity.

You want the responsibility for that on your shoulders? I think you're as crazy

as she is.

Don't aggravate him. They're all dangerous.

I don't know who killed your husband, but I believe your brother can tell you.

I thought you'd try to insinuate something like that, and I'm glad you

did. Now I can voice what I've suspicioned these past years.

You were jealous of John.

You wanted to marry Beatrice for money.

You were a penniless, hacked playwright.

She preferred John, and you killed him.

There's always been insanity in your family. Wait.

He's right.

I, too, always thought you killed John.

You're unscrupulous enough to have done it.

That's enough of that kind of talk.

You aren't free from suspicion either.

As John's cousin, you inherited more money from his death than I did. How

dare you say that?

I can't listen any longer.

In the name of humanity, allow Lester and I to get out of here before they

kill each other. I appreciate that we have outside witnesses to what is going

to happen. There is a murderer in this room, and we're going to find him.

Tell me the person who killed you.

Quickly. Why don't you admit it?

Hurry. Before it is too late.

You'll talk now or I'll break your neck.

Lunch! John.

John.

John. Speak to me, John.

Jarvis, hang on those legs.

Where's Beatrice?

I don't know.

Dr. Kent, I demand I be allowed to leave this room. And I'm with you.

Remember my years of devotion to you.

Divided we arrive, but united we leave.

Of course I'd give anything in the world if this hadn't happened. Jarvis, open

that door.

Oh, Mr. Wood, I'll see you later.

You'll not see me later. Not for a month, not for ten years. I'm getting

out of here.

And so ends the first act of my little play.

Oh, darling, it was wonderful.

Well, we certainly scared those two.

Yes, and Wood's famous for his temper.

Isn't it remarkable how they reacted almost exactly as you had written them

into your play?