All language subtitles for Beat.the.Devil.1953.REMASTERED.720p.BluRay.X264-AMIABLE_Track02

Ragazzi, uno, due...

I must say, I do resent the way
these people stare at us.

They look as if they might
be going to spit.

Gwendolen! Dash it all.

Dear, it's unlucky to have someone
spit at you unless you spit first.

What a filthy superstition.

May yours be defiled.

What's that about?

These people may be thinking
of putting a curse on us.

You know, like,
"May your grandmothers be defiled."

That's why I say it first, just in case.

Where on earth do you get all this stuff?

My old Spanish nurse told me.

Surely you don't believe it now.
You were only a child then.

She wasn't a child. She was old.

I always wondered why your parents
left you in charge

of such a dirty, ignorant old woman.

They cared for nothing except
to have me off their hands.

I've told you that.

They'd have sold me on the slave market
if they hadn't been afraid of scandal.

Besides, my father was incompetent.

I don't suppose he knew
just how to contact the slave people--

Don't believe a word of it.

Common people
are quite fond of you really.

Stop it, Gwendolen. Don't do it.

You'll be sorry if we run into bad luck

just because
we didn't take proper precaution.

Suppose when we get to Africa
we find there's a native rising

and they're slaughtering all the whites.

Gwendolen!

If you don't let me spit I shall feel like
standing here in the streets

and just screaming with terror.

Stop it, Gwendolen. Look, those men.

- Well, they might be fellow passengers.
- Hey, wait for me.

Nonsense, best thing for you.

Fresh air is to the blood
what water is to the limbs.

Clean blood makes for a clear head,
clear head makes for straight thinking.

Must keep fit, Mr. O'Hara.
"Fighting fit, fit to fight."

Do you know who's motto that was?
Viscount Montgomery.

Commander in chief, British forces.

- Now, it's mine.
- Wait!

Who-- I mean,
what do you suppose they are?

Businessmen. Does it matter?

Well, if we're going to be on a small boat
with them for weeks and weeks...

I only said they might be
fellow passengers.

Harry, we must beware of those men.
They're desperate characters.

What makes you say that?

Not one of them looked at my legs.

Good morning, Mrs. Dannreuther.
Good morning, Billy boy.

Care to join us in a stroll?
Stir up the liver?

Sweat out the toxins?
Help nature to help you?

Wouldn't dream of it.

Really, Billy. You mustn't be
so offhand with Mr. Peterson.

If I were to treat him
with more than common politeness,

he'd misunderstand
and try to push me around.

Mr. Peterson is a bully.

- Billy, did you see this?
- Huh?

- See what?
- That man in London has been killed.

What man?

"Paul Vanmere, high-ranking official
in the Colonial Office

was stabbed to death early this morning
by an unknown assailant

outside a club in Soho.

This is the third crime of violence

to occur in that vicinity
within the past month."

What is it, Billy?

In heaven's name, Billy, say something.

You understand, of course,
that Peterson arranged this.

It seems there's been a lot
of violence around there lately.

Oh, don't pretend to be a fool.

But, look, Billy.
This happened early Tuesday morning.

We'd all left London well before that.

What about Jack Ross?
What about the galloping major?

But he only--
I thought he only stayed behind

to get that phone call from Mombasa,
if it came though.

He'll be here this morning.

Well?

Don't get so excited.

Don't jump to unpleasant conclusions.

"Jump"? They might as well
have drawn a map.

Why was Peterson worried about Vanmere?
What made him think he was dangerous?

He was afraid
Vanmere wouldn't stay bought.

He was afraid he'd get
the wind up after we'd gone.

He had visions of him trotting upstairs
to his superiors and announcing,

"I have certain information

that certain persons have paid
certain sums of money..."

Don't talk so loud, Billy!

"...to obtain illegal rights
to certain mineral supplies."

That Indian, that raj or whatever he was
that you worked for in the old days,

he killed a lot of people, didn't he?

Ah, but he had a better style.

Besides, he was out for a kingdom
half the size of France.

What's the difference between that
and millions of dollars?

We must think of the future, Billy.
This is our big chance.

It may be our last.

Except for Mr. Peterson, we couldn't
even pay last night's hotel bill.

- Where are you going?
- I'm going down to a café,

drink a lot of Pernod,
and listen to the band.

You won't make a fuss, will you?
It doesn't do to make a fuss.

You have to think of the main objective.

Actually, it doesn't do to be fussy.

It's your move, Gwendolen.

Gracias.

The luggage is in there.

Bring it up.

- Harry, look. The desperadoes.
- Shh.

Not quite in our contract, Billy.
Hard liquor before noon.

- I'm celebrating.
- Celebrating what?

The safe arrival of the major.

He came galloping in a minute ago
looking tired but satisfied.

I take it his mission was accomplished?

Yes, but it's getting on
for lunchtime, gentlemen.

I'll see you later, Billy.

Your move, Gwendolen.

- Gwendolen, it's your move.
- Oh.

- Check.
- Blast!

Are you sailing on the Nyanga?

Africa-bound.

- So are we.
- Oh, my name is Chelm. This is my wife.

- How do you do? My name's Dannreuther.
- How do you do?

- Are your friends sailing too?
- The whole kit and caboodle.

You're a very mysterious group I must say.

- Really, Gwendolen!
- How so, mysterious?

Well, for one thing, you all appear
to be of different nationalities.

It's your move, Gwendolen.

Check.

I have a theory
about you and your friends.

Correction. My associates.

As a matter of fact,

I think you're doctors.

Evil ones, I mean.

You're going to the heart of the jungle
where human life is cheap

to perform ghastly experiments

which require the sacrifice of thousands
on the altar of science.

You must excuse my wife.
She has a very lively imagination.

Checkmate.

I don't know how you expect me to play
a decent game when you keep talking.

Harry's been all out of sorts today.

Usually he's a wonderful loser.

Good morning, Mr. Dannreuther.

I bring you the captain's compliments
along with the sad news

that the sailing of the SS Nyanga
has been postponed.

Now, look here.
This boat is definitely, most definitely,

scheduled to sail at 2400 hours.

Scheduled, Mr. Chelm,
but not, I fear, destined to do so.

Propeller gone or is the captain drunk?

Of course the captain is drunk, but
the real trouble is with the oil pump.

Well, it's not good enough.
Simply not good enough.

Quite right, sir,
but you are putting it too mildly.

The present oil pump is no good at all.

Well, how much delay does this mean?

Oh, to locate, bargain for, purchase,
and install a new one

will require, I should say,

more than a day, less than a fortnight.

Utter hopeless inefficiency.

Probably it isn't the oil pump at all.

Just making it an excuse to hang about
and pick up extra cargo.

Guns or opium? I wouldn't be surprised
if she turns out to be a smuggler.

What a miserable place to be stuck in.

Squalid, fifth-rate port.

Ever been in Puerto Verto before?

No, I don't know
this part of the world at all.

I thought not. Otherwise,
you wouldn't be so upset about staying.

Magnificent country!

Ruins to visit by moonlight,
fine stretch of beach.

Back there in the hills is one
of the few spots left in the world

where you can get decent food and drink.

It's called the Blue Pavilion.

I insist you give me the pleasure
of having dinner with us tonight.

- Oh, that's awfully kind of you, but--
- Us?

- You and your associates?
- My wife and me.

The committee?

Oh, uh, Mr. Chelm, I want you
to meet a friend of mine.

This is the galloping major.

The committee wants you to toddle 'round.

- Okay.
- Right away.

- I'll be along.
- Better toddle.

- I said I'd be along!
- They don't like to be kept waiting.

I'll lay on a car.
We'll meet in front of the hotel at 6:00.

Arrivederci.

Dannreuther. An American, I suppose.

Anyway, I...

I quite like him.

Time. Twenty-four hours in a day.

1,440 minutes for somebody else
to get busy on the same idea as ours.

We ought to have got a plane
and flown out, as I said from the start.

Do you remember I said it, O'Horror?

My name is not "O'Horror." It is O'Hara.

Do you hear? Mr. O'Hara.

Yes, Mr. O'Horror.

But do you remember I said it?
I said we ought to take a plane.

Time. Time. What is time?

Swiss manufacture it.

French hoard it.

Italians squander it.

Americans say it is money.
Hindus say it does not exist.

You know what I say?
I say time is a crook.

If we took a plane, we'd be there inside
of 15 hours, instead of who knows when.

I don't want any more talk about flying.
The sky is for the birds.

My feet are on the ground. Both of them.

Come in, Billy boy.

What's all the fuss about?

No fuss, Billy. We're merely
wondering what course to pursue

in view of this unfortunate delay.

Join the peasants in their revels,
go to church, write your memoirs.

Very funny.

I like an associate of mine
to have a sense of humor.

Good laugh does more
for the stomach muscles

than five minutes sitting-up exercises.

And now that we've had our moment of fun
and all the better for it,

let's get back to the question.

Doesn't this delay call for a cable
to your friend in British East?

Mustn't send cables.
Can't you get it through your head

that the population down there
has trained noses?

They can smell a uranium deal
like a cat smells fish.

But aren't you afraid, Billy,

that when our little party doesn't
show up on the date you said,

aren't you a teeny bit afraid

that your friend might use that
as an excuse

to begin negotiations elsewhere?

If my friend were looking for an excuse,

he'd find a better one
in the morning papers.

What do you mean?

I'm talking about the untimely demise
of Paul Vanmere.

Well, I'm appalled, Billy.

What an unwholesome opinion
you must have of your colleagues

to imagine that we--

Look here, Peterson, you don't
have to convince me of anything.

You don't care what I think as long
as I don't do anything about it.

And I won't.

Unless you ever decide to sick
that knife-happy little junkie on me.

What yourself, laddie.

Now, Jack, behave yourself.

Sit down.

For shame, Billy.

I think you owe an apology
to everybody in this room.

And if you're half the gentleman
I know you are, I'm sure you'll make it.

As I was saying, Peterson,
you've nothing to worry about.

My friend won't pull out
unless I tell him to.

For purely venal reasons,
that's the last thing I have in mind.

Jack, give Billy a light.

What a wonderful car.

It looks as if it had won
the Grand Prix d'Élégance many years ago.

Oh, it did. It was built for Oriposo,
you know, the bullfighter.

He had it made this way
so he could stand up and take bows.

He only got one ride in it.
Bequeathed it to me on his deathbed.

Well, here's to Oriposo.
I hope you like champagne.

You mean it's yours?

Well, I gave it to my former chauffeur,
the fat bandit in the front seat.

Harry, look at that wonderful villa.

Oh, that was Bertie Crampton's.

Oh, you mean Lord Crampton
in Gloucestershire?

His family acres marched
hand in hand with ours.

Gloucestershire. The cathedral towns,

trout fishing, garden parties.

What a beautiful life.

You know England well?

Emotionally, I am English.

I serve tea every afternoon with crumpets.

And I've always kept up my subscription

to Country Life and the Tatler.

The trouble with England,
it's all pomp and no circumstance.

You're very wise to get out of it.
Escape while you can.

I'd hardly describe myself as escaping.

Simply so happened that a relative
of mine, first cousin actually,

who died recently happened to be
the owner of a coffee plantation.

Africa's the place now. You talk about
the diamond boys, the gold boys,

they just skimmed a little off the top.

Potential material wealth of Africa
has hardly been scratched.

Now there is a villa.

- Mmm. Big.
- That's the Villa Capriccio.

Famed in song and story.
A three-star attraction in Baedeker.

Whose is it?

Well, the banks own it now.
Used to be mine.

Yours?

Yes. I brought old Charles from Fouquet's,

you know, the old Fouquet's,
to run it for me.

Then when I decided to pull up stakes,

I bought him this restaurant
we're going to.

Least I could do to show my appreciation.

Well, here we are.

Charles!

Charles!

Wait here a minute
while I rout old Charles out.

He doesn't even know
we're in this neck of the woods. Charles!

Charles!

He must think we're extraordinarily naive.

- Charles!
- Knew all those people.

- Owned that vast villa.
- Charles!

Bought this place because
he liked the fellow's cooking.

What utter balderdash.

- Oh, perhaps he did.
- I beg leave to doubt it.

Did you notice his wife?

She seemed to be
rather a sensitive little woman.

Really embarrassed by all that rot.

I am sorry, signore.

As you see, we are closed.

We do not open for another two months.

Charles,
what the devil's going on?

This place is falling to rack and ruin.

Place is closed. We shall have to dine
in the hotel after all.

Monsieur Dann!

Monsieur-- Monsieur Dann!

Madame.

Why did you not let me know
you were coming?

Tsk, tsk, you did not say
you were with Monsieur Dann.

- Nothing is closed to Monsieur Dann.
- Good to see you again, Charles.

Eh, it's been too long, Monsieur Dann.

Not since the night you left the villa.

- Remember your farewell party?
- I've tried ever since to forget it.

Remember how in the morning
we escorted you to the train

with violins playing and everybody cried

like when a king you love very much
leaves his country.

Aren't you dressed yet?

Do I appear to be dressed?

Do dress. Do hurry.
It's a most wonderful day.

And Billy wants us to drive out
and see his villa.

Uh, his former villa.

Obviously I can't go.
I've got a chill on my liver.

What a miserable place to be ill.

And you forgot to pack
my hot-water bottle.

You packed it.

Gwendolen, I distinctly remember--

Hello?

Oh, hello.

No, I'm afraid we can't.

- Harry has this wretched chill and--
- Uh, give me the telephone.

Chelm here.

Yes.

Quite.

Absolutely.

A hot-water bottle.

That's very, very good of you, old boy.

Uh, look here, Dannreuther, would you mind
very much if my wife went alone?

She enjoys this sightseeing
sort of stuff, you know.

Splendid.

Splendid. I'll send her along.

You know, Gwendolen, nowadays
one simply cannot afford to dismiss people

just because they're not one's sort.

One has to try and bridge the gulf.

After all, it's a new world
we're going into.

One's got to take it as one finds it.

Face it. Use it. Master it.

You know,
I've seen Americans on the street

and in the cinema, of course,
but, uh, I've never talked to one before.

Are you a typical American?

I think it's important that I should know.

Why important?

There are two good reasons
for falling in love.

One is that the object
of your affections is unlike anyone else.

A rare spirit, such as Lord Byron.

The other is that
he's like everybody else only superior.

Harry, for instance,
is the very best of a type.

Well, if you must know,
I'm a typical rare spirit.

How long did you live here?

Well, the longest I've ever
lived anywhere is two years.

But when you were a child,

didn't you ever have a mother and a father
and a house and a street and a town?

No, I, uh, I was an orphan until I was 20,

and then a rich
and beautiful lady adopted me.

You know, I've changed my mind
about your being an evil doctor.

You're off to keep a rendezvous some place
in Africa sacred to the tribesmen.

You're going to found a new empire

and make yourself master
of the riches of the world.

But you need a beautiful blond queen
to impress the natives

as, uh, as the incarnation
of the queen of Sheba.

That's why you're making a pass at me.

- Am I?
- Of course.

I don't generally go sightseeing
with strange men.

You don't believe that, do you?

Well, I believe anything you say.

- Do you?
- Mm-hmm.

Well, you shouldn't, you know.
You really shouldn't.

You can make that pass now.

- Mr. Chelm?
- Yes?

It is I, Mrs. Dannreuther. Maria.

Oh, come in.

Tea for two and two for tea.

Now, that's most awfully kind of you.
You shouldn't have troubled, really.

Billy tells me you have a chill.

A bit of one. On the liver. Too tiresome.

- Milk, of course.
- Of course.

Tea and crumpets.

That's very good of you.

There.

Poor Harry.

Chill won't kill him.

I feel just now I should like, somehow,
to do him a good turn of some kind.

- You do?
- Well, naturally.

Oh, I see. Naturally.

I think it would be nice if you were able
to do something for him.

Help him along.
Give him the benefit of your advice.

Delighted, of course. For instance?

Oh, something with business.

He was very pleased
with that tip you gave him

on the way home last night
about the gold shares.

I've forgotten what I told him.
What was it?

I don't remember either.

I was listening to your voice.
I wasn't listening to what you said.

You see, if you were helping him,

it would be so much easier for us
to be together a lot out there in Africa.

- Well, has he any head for business?
- Why, he's simply brilliant.

I wouldn't have thought it.

But of course he is.

You don't suppose
I'd marry a ninny, do you?

If you imagine that Harry is simply
going to Africa to plant coffee,

you're very much mistaken.

In point of fact,

in point of fact,

coffee is the least of Harry's interests.

In point of fact, the land he is acquiring

is extremely rich in certain minerals.

Minerals which are indispensable
to the production of atomic energy.

Harry's land simply teems with uranium.

It wouldn't surprise me to see him
become the uranium king.

So you see, my husband isn't
such a ninny as you may have imagined.

It might very well be worth your while
to go in with him.

The potential mineral wealth of Africa
has hardly been scratched.

That's what I was telling you last night.

But of course. It's a well-known fact.

Billy boy.

- Had a happy day?
- Very.

I'm so glad.
What an attractive woman Mrs. Chelm is.

Is that what you called me over
to tell me?

Who are the Chelms?

They're English. Going out to British
East. They have a coffee plantation.

Any money in coffee?

No, but there's a type of Englishman
goes off to coffee plantations

without caring whether
there's any money in it or not.

Relatives leave them coffee plantations,
and they go out to them.

But why this sudden interest
in the Chelms?

I just like to know who's making friends
with my friends.

Well, now you know.

I don't believe one word.

You know, if I ever leave you,

it will be for someone
of the type of Harry Chelm.

Well, bully for you.

I suppose that type of Englishman
is like a story I once heard.

An English gardener in England
was showing some Americans

one of those wonderful English lawns

and, of course, they wanted to know
how to make a lawn like that.

And this English gardener said--

He said, "All you have to do
is get some good grass

and roll it every day for 600 years."

I heard that story before you were born.

Englishmen tell it
when they're feeling down in the mouth.

You just don't understand the Chelm type.

You're not even listening. You never do.

Someday I'll say good-bye
and you won't hear that either.

One day I shall really meet my type
and run off with him,

and you'll be simply amazed.

That's possible.

George Moore said--
I learned it by heart years ago.

He said that, "Each great passion
is the fruit of many fruitless years."

George Moore was a very distinguished
English writer, you know?

Except that he was Irish.

Cheer up, sugar.

I make a million on this deal,
I'll buy you an old English lawn.

One we can roll up and take with us.

Billy, good morning.

What's our wide-eyed Irish leprechaun
doing outside my door?

Why do you always make jokes
about my name, huh?

In Chile, the name of O'Hara
is a tip-top name.

Many Germans in Chile
have become to be called O'Hara.

- Good morning, Mr. O'Hara.
- Madame, my respects.

Perhaps Mr. O'Hara would like
something to drink.

Yes. Uh, maybe, perhaps, uh,
a little whiskey, huh?

Eh, very weak, please.

What's this visit in honor of?

Oh...

Just wanted to have
a little talk with you.

Okay, but make it fast.

Fast?

I give you my word, Billy. I...

I give you my word,
I feel to you like a...

like an older brother.

Oh, it's not so much
the difference of age, it's uh...

it's probably...

Yes, the reason is because...

'cause I come from a culture
which is so much older than yours.

In my country, a child of six years old

is older in his heart
than you will be at 60.

It smokes, it drinks, it philosophizes.

At this rate, I'll be 60
before you get to the point.

Eh, the point.

The, the point is that Peterson,
Ravello, myself--

we are the principles in this case--

we are in for the money.

We cannot switch around and turn and...

But an agent.

It's easy to imagine
that he could conceivably,

doesn't feel himself quite as irrevocably
committed as, uh, Peterson or...

We're fellow passengers, I believe.

- Not quite yet, wouldn't you say?
- Too sadly true.

By any chance, you-- you don't happen
to have seen your Mr. Dannreuther about?

I don't think Billy's up yet.
About 11:00. He's rather a late riser.

But he said-- he said--
Well, anyway.

I shouldn't put too much stock
in what Billy says,

particularly when he's had a few drinks.

It's not that he means to break his word,
he just forgets that he's given it.

Charm and dependability
so seldom go in one package.

There are exceptions, of course.

Your husband, I imagine
from his manner and behavior, is one.

Oh, yes, very. Well, quite, I mean.

I'm so looking forward
to meeting your husband

and having a chat about Africa.

By all means.

I understand he's in coffee?

You make it sound like total immersion.

Part of Africa we're going to
is due for pretty important changes.

In my opinion,
things will be booming out there

before you can say, "Jack Robinson."

I do hope there won't be too many changes.
It's completely unspoilt, I hear,

with some of the loveliest scenery
in the world.

I can't imagine anything more lovely
in the way of scenery

than to have a few acres
of gold and diamonds cropping up

on a piece of land
I had bought for a song.

Heaven forbid. Next thing,
there'd be big ugly holes everywhere

and great, horrid machines
instead of ug-- uh, lovely scenery.

Anyway, I don't think
my husband worries much

about money and business,
that sort of thing.

Really?

I mean, to appreciate
my husband's point of view,

one has to understand his background.

Those lawns.
Hundreds of years in the making.

Those immemorial elms.

Those walls hung with family portraits.
Generations of them.

Those great echoing galleries,

where so much of English history
has been made.

Taxes must be terrific
on a place like that.

What would people
like the Chelms care about taxes

with their kind of money?

I mean, when a family's been a power
in the City of London for so long.

One of the great financial families.

"Power in the city"? You mean...

Oh, yes, of course. One of those Chelms.

I'm surprised you know about them at all.

Very few people do.
They prefer to work behind the scenes.

I find it rather hard to believe
that a man in your husband's position

would go to Africa
just for the coffee planting.

You're very quick, aren't you?

In point of fact, he isn't.

In point of fact,
he has a very special reason.

So I suspected.

I has to do with... sin.

Sin?

Since the war, my husband has been
almost exclusively concerned

with spiritual values.

He feels is if he can get away there
in the heart of Africa,

he will come face-to-face with essentials.

He wants to work out the problem of sin.

- Sin?
- Why, yes, of course.

Isn't that what we are all
most concerned with?

Sin?

Gwendolen, what are you doing here?

I thought we were
supposed to meet on the beach.

Uh, Harry, I want you to meet Mr.--

My name is Peterson. Been having
the most delightful talk to your wife.

She tells me you're interested
in spiritual values.

- I myself am vastly concerned--
- Harry, we'd really better be going.

You'll excuse us, Mr. Peterson?

What have you been telling that man?

Oh, nothing, Harry.
He got onto the subject of religion,

and I just happened to mention
that we usually go to church on Sunday.

Billy, I...

I think it is high time
you take stock of yourself.

Can you truthfully say about yourself,
"I, Billy Dannreuther,

have acted fairly and squarely
to my associates." Huh?

Well, of course he can, Mr. O'Hara.
Everybody knows Billy's the soul of honor.

Shut up, sugar.

Perhaps he is the "soul of honor,"
and perhaps appearances are deceiving.

Do you mind telling me what it is
I'm supposed to have done?

Nothing.

It's your conduct. Your-- Your--

Your conduct doesn't...

Your conduct does not inspire confidence.

And confidence, Billy,
is the most important necessity

in a undertaking of our kind.

One may be completely innocent,

but if one's actions invite suspicion,
one might as well be guilty.

To be trustworthy is not more important
than to seem to be trustworthy.

Billy, have you done something
you shouldn't have?

Tell me, Billy.

Tell me the truth.

My conduct.

Who do they think I am, their hired man?

But you are, you know.
You are the hired man.

How good and kind of you to remind me.

How good. How true.

How kind.

Oh, I say, Dannreuther.
Good to see you. How about a drink?

- Well, I, uh...
- Oh, come on, my dear fellow.

Let me buy you a drink.

Oh, uh, Gwendolen, don't forget
to send one to Aunt Beatrice.

Can't understand it.

Gwendolen distinctly said
she'd join me on the beach,

then I come back
and find her sitting in that café.

Extraordinary creatures, women.

Well, let's drink to them.

- Pernod.
- Scotch.

Come on, you tiny little wreck.
Have a drink.

We're drinking to women.

Take the drink,
but won't join you in the toast.

Glass of Irish.

Women!

Hitler had the right idea.
Keep them in their place.

Babies and the kitchen.

Say what you want to about Hitler,
he had his points.

- Come, come. Look here--
- This generation's had its chance.

Hitler, Mussolini. Those were the men.
Now is the age of the barbarians.

The world's going up in smoke.
I say let it come. Get it over with.

Well, if you don't mind,
I'd like another year or so of worry.

Worry? Just one minute, laddies.

I've just two or three words to say
to you, laddies, and that's don't worry.

Don't ever worry.

I am in the position
to know secret information.

The Rosicrucians,
the Great White Brotherhood.

The high secret orders.

But you've no faith! You must have faith!

Faith in power, secret power.

Men who guard the trust from the
deepest insides of the whatchamacallit.

Mystic rulers, all one club chained
together by one purpose, one idea!

Mankind's champions! Follow me, Billy?

Oh, why, of course.

This generation's had its chance.
Hitler, Mussolini.

- I can't stand here and permit you--
- Are you interrupting me?

Relax, Jack. Have another drink.

I simply want to state that things don't
happen to be what certain people imagine.

An officer may find himself
strapped for money

and he may undertake certain things

which in other circumstances,
no, absolutely no.

Absolutely. I mean, uh, absolutely no.

In the old days, I should have
simply told people of your ilk

to buy their own drinks!

Poor old Jack.

I'll teach you.

I'll teach you to insult
an ex-officer of the Indian Army.

Well? Are you yellow?

The bar.

You're Major Ross?

Right.

Ross here.

Right.

Right again.

Come along. The committee.

Saved by the bell.

I've never heard such rot in my life.
Sin! Sin!

All I could do was
to keep a straight face.

No, I'm certain of it now.

These are two very clever
and dangerous antagonists.

- Sit here and help me close this.
- But how could they know what we're up to?

Great interests like the Chelms
have ways and means.

Yes, and I'm convinced they're out
to get us even before we get started.

We must get ahead of them.
Time has entered the picture in a new way.

Never forget the time factor, gentlemen.
It always enters the picture in the end.

I'm sending a cable to London. I want
full information on those Chelm interests.

British Africa too.
Check up on his interests there.

Every time the plane lands,
I'll try and reach you by telephone.

Keep me informed
of the latest development.

Dannreuther, that lying, swinish,
rum-swilling, double-crosser!

- What pleasure it will give me--
- Uh-uh-uh. No, you can't at the moment.

We need him right now.
We need that swinish, lying, double--

Did I hear my name?

"Rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub."

Tub?

Oh.

Been a change of plan, Billy boy.
You and I are leaving for Africa.

How's that?

You and I are flying to Africa
by the next plane.

What's happened, Peterson? Must be
something important to get you on a plane.

Perfectly simple, Billy boy.
The trouble with the oil pump

and the general uncertainty
about when the Nyanga will sail

forces me to sacrifice
my personal comfort.

I prefer to fly rather
than run the risk of arriving too late.

There's also such a thing
as arriving too early.

What do you mean by that?

Well, the land doesn't come up for auction
for a couple of weeks.

My friend can't make his move until then.

If we sit around British East
all that time,

somebody's going to start wondering
who we are and ask questions.

Is that your real opinion, Billy,
or are you just looking forward

to a long sea voyage with the attractive
Mrs. Chelm as your companion?

- Or perhaps you have even other reasons.
- Such as?

That's for you to know
and for us to find out.

You'd better get your packing done.

Billy.

- Where are you going?
- Off to Africa. Flying.

Just like that?

Aren't you even going to kiss me good-bye?

I wish--

- Don't say it.
- What?

That you wish we'd never met.

You'll be coming on the boat,
and in Africa we'll get together and--

I think I hate you.

Letting those revolting men
order you about.

Don't deny it. I've watched them.
They treat you like a servant.

They say "hop it," and off you hop.

I know what it is.
They have a hold on you.

Some black secret that could ruin you.

What makes you think that?

Oh, it happens all the time.

My old Spanish nurse told me
that half the people in the world

would be ruined at once
if everyone told what they knew.

But...

couldn't you have them done away with?

Why, you must know plenty of people
who could bump them off.

Probably cost a good deal,
but it would be worth it, certainly.

Oh, it's not impossible,
except that afterwards,

I wouldn't have any money.
This way, I stand to make a lot.

- Millions?
- Maybe.

Then perhaps your connection
with those men

isn't quite so undignified as I thought.

Those millions,
would they be pounds or dollars?

Well, either way suits me.

No, that's very careless of you.

The state of the pound is so uncertain.
You must think in terms of hard currency.

Maybe I should hire you
to handle my affairs.

You could do worse.

I'm awfully intelligent, really.

Come along, Billy boy. The car's waiting.

If we can't go faster than this,
we'll miss the plane.

Press on! Press on!

Try posting.

Push, push!

Come on.

One, two, three!

Driver! Driver!

My car!

My car! My beautiful car!

- You did that on purpose!
- What?

You planned it that way! I know
what you're up to! I know everything!

I know about the uranium
on the Chelm's land,

the Chelm interest in the City of London.

- The what?
- You heard me! The Chelm interest!

I take it your information comes
from a reliable source?

- It does! From Mrs. Chelm herself!
- Ha, ha, magnificent! Simply magnificent!

You must pay me back
for the loss of my beautiful car.

If you weren't a benighted jackass,
if you could see as far as you could spit,

you'd know there's no such thing
as a "Chelm interest."

You'll have to do better than that,
Mr. Dannreuther,

- very much better than that!
- Don't believe me! Check with London!

If you find out he's anything more than
a down-at-heel Gloucestershire squire,

you can have my services for nothing.

You mean Mrs. Chelm
is an unqualified liar?

Well, let's say she uses her imagination
rather than her memory.

You will make restitution,
will you no, Mr. Dann?

Either money or a new car.

Why, you fat bandit!
I gave you the car in the first place.

How I came by it is beside the point.

The fact you gave it to me
doesn't make it any the less mine.

Shut up!

That's right. Threaten me.

It is not enough that you destroy
my beautiful car, now you will--

- Stop!
- Hey, stop!

More than anything, I want Billy
to make a grand success out there.

Ah, as you care so much about money,

I should have thought you would
have left Billy for some rich man.

I shouldn't think Billy
would mind, really.

I mean, neither of you
are in love or anything.

You are a strange girl.

Of course I love Billy.

Actually, I adore him.

And Billy loves me very, very, but,

very much.

That's why I trust him
with his little unimportant amours.

And what does he say about yours?

But, darling,
all husbands like their wives

to seem attractive to other men.

Be sure you explain that to Harry.
I'm going back to the hotel.

Mrs. Dannreuther, Maria,

I have, I'm afraid,
I have some shocking news for you.

The boat is not going at all?

There's been a terrible accident.

Your husband's car drove over a cliff.

The people on the bus
saw it fall into the sea.

It seems almost certain that he--

What is it? What are you trying to say?

He's saying that Billy is dead.

It's become necessary to redistribute
the stock in our company.

Stock, stock! What good is the stock now?

We can't deal with Dannreuther's friend.

Not without Dannreuther.

All the effort, the money.

Everything went over the cliff
with that car.

Ravello, you forget the English
are very sentimental people.

I tell you, there is nothing that
Billy's friend will not do for his widow,

and, in black,

she's a very touching figure.

Poor Maria, you really have had
a wretched time of it.

You are very understanding.

If only there was something I could do.

Just now if you could bring me an aspirin.

- I have a headache.
- Don't move.

Just you wait there.
I'll be back in a moment.

Mussolini, Hitler, and now Peterson.

A great man. A great loss.

I'm going upstairs and read my Bible.

Why all the gloom?

Maria has a headache.

What's the matter with you?

Go away.

My dear girl, I'm as sorry
about Dannreuther as you are.

But after all, it isn't as if he was
one of our oldest friends.

- I was in love with him.
- He was a very pleasant acquaintance.

- What did you say?
- I was in love with him.

Really, darling, have you no control
over your romantic fantasies?

I loved him! Can't you hear me?

I loved him! I loved him!

Oh, rot! You're just dramatizing again.

By George, you were right after all!
I did pack it.

Oh!

What shall I do?

I feel as though I were drowning.

He's dead.

He's dead, and I'm left
with a fool like you.

I tell you what to do.
Have a bit of shut-eye.

You'll wake up in an hour
feeling your old self again,

and there'll be no more silly stories

about falling
for a middle-aged roustabout.

- So...
- Oh, please go away!

I'll just take these to Maria.

Mr. Chelm, this is very important,
for you as well as for myself.

- Yes, well, get on with it.
- There is now an opportunity

for you to secure enormous profits
with virtually no risk.

I won't beat about the bush. Our papers...

For you as Billy's widow,
it will be very easy

to persuade his friend in British East.

And for capital, we have Chelm.

He has money?

Money? Enormous.

All you have to do is speak to him.

No, he would think it bad taste

to raise such a question at this moment.

I know that type of Englishman
better than you do.

Ravello.

Ravello.

Quite evidently you've been
misinformed as to my interests,

- as well as to my character.
- Ravello, Ravello! This came from London.

"No Chelm family financial interests
London." What does it mean?

What does it mean? It means what it says.

There are no Chelm interests.

What's the matter with all of you?
Is somebody dead?

Car! It went over a cliff.

We thought you had both been killed.

Dannreuther,
I'm delighted to see you're alive,

but your wife is in a fainting condition.

You mean, you're not dead at all?

Obviously, I'm not dead.
Please come to your senses.

- What have you got here?
- Oh, uh...

I knew you weren't dead. I knew it.

You couldn't be.
I counted 13 backwards 13 times.

My old Spanish nurse said if you did that,
a miracle would happen.

And you see, it has.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I bring you the glad tidings.

The captain is sober,
and the SS Nyanga will sail at midnight.

I can't see it anywhere.

What can have happened to it?

My dispatch box. Where it is?

A black tin box this size.
What have you done with it?

I told you to take
the most particular care of it.

I shall not go on board
until my dispatch box has been found.

- Having trouble, Chelm?
- Nothing I can't cope with, thank you.

Says he put it in your cabin,
whatever it is.

Idiot!
Why didn't he say so in the first place?

Say, look. What's happened to Harry?

He's been giving me the fish eye
all evening.

- Oh?
- What is it?

Perhaps it's because when I thought
you were dead,

I told him I was in love with you.

- You what?
- I couldn't help it.

- It made you seem less dead.
- And?

Oh, he didn't believe me.
He thought my nerves were upset.

A sort of delirium.
He thought it quite a joke,

the idea of my inventing a love affair
with a middle-aged roustabout like you.

- That's what he called you.
- Now that I'm back in the flesh,

he'll begin wondering
about that delirium of yours.

I suppose seeing you alive is different
from thinking of you dead.

Just great. Cooped up on that tub
with a suspicious husband.

Billy.

- Let's not go.
- What do you mean?

I'm asking you to run away with me. Now.

What about the millions in hard currency?

What's happened to you? I thought you
were my shrewd little manager.

I've changed my point of view.

I thought we'd get to Africa
and you'd make your fortune,

and everything would be wonderful.

But now I think it's all too risky.
Too many things can happen.

I want us to cut and run for it right now.

- You really mean that?
- With all my heart.

- Oh, no, that's impossible.
- Why?

Well, for one thing, Mrs. Dannreuther
might not go for the idea.

She's not quite
as sophisticated as you are.

Please, Billy, listen to me.
I've thought it all out.

We'll take the bus
and catch an express for somewhere--

Stop. The shot's not on the table.

You're not in love the way I am.

If I loved you a thousand times more
than you say you love me,

it still wouldn't make any difference.
I've got to have money.

Doctor's orders are that I must have
a lot of money.

Otherwise, I become dull, listless,
and have trouble with my complexion.

But you're not like that now,
and you haven't any money.

It's my expectations
that hold me together.

- You really mean that, don't you, darling?
- Sure, I mean it.

And your main reason
for wanting lots of money

is so that you'll be ever so attractive
and I'll love you more and more.

That's right, baby.

I'll help you, Billy. I can too!

I'm something of a witch.

My old Spanish nurse said
I could have been a professional.

Don't look now,
but they're raising the gangway.

The sea air, ozone.
What a pity we can't bottle it, gentlemen.

What a fortune we'd make.
"Neptune's Mixture."

Now breathe deeply.

Remember, every breath
is a guinea in the bank of health.

Good morning, Chelm.

Why that's good, very good indeed.

I didn't know you were an artist,
Mrs. Dannreuther.

I'd hardly call myself that.
I only dabble.

The nose is not enough long.

- The ears are too small.
- Only has one eye.

Now, come along, gentlemen.
We must not dawdle.

♪ Blow the man down, bully
Blow the man down ♪

♪ Blow, blow
Blow the man down ♪

♪ Blow the man down, bully
Blow the man down ♪

Good morning, Mrs. Chelm!
Let's hope she breaks her neck.

♪ Blow the man down, bully
Blow the man down ♪

♪ Blow the man down, bully
Blow the man down ♪

♪ Blow, blow
Blow the man down ♪

♪ Blow the man down, bully
Blow the man down ♪

♪ Give me some time to blow the man down ♪

Mr. Peterson! Mr. Peterson!

A radiogram.

Hmm.

"No Chelm estate Gloucestershire. Stop.

No landed gentry Chelm."
What do you make of that?

- He's not a Gloucestershire squire.
- Like Billy said.

Just as I was beginning to take Billy
at his face value.

But if he's not what Billy said,
then what is he?

We are at sea again, gentlemen,
in more ways than one.

- Mystery. More mystery.
- Mmm.

Billy is a liar.
Heaven only knows what Chelm is.

- CID, maybe?
- You borrowed my thought.

What to do? What to do?

The time has come for direct action.

You remember last night
when we came on board?

The fuss he was making
about his dispatch box?

I love colors.

Working with them is an endless puzzle.

Your face, for instance.

Ten minutes ago,
it was all brown and pink.

Now the light is changed,
and it's chalky white.

- What?
- Tinged with green.

Green?

- It must be getting rough.
- Just a little.

Don't break the pose.

I don't feel very well.
I think I'll go below and take a pill.

- It's incredible. Harry Chelm is just--
- Just Harry Chelm.

Nothing. Nobody.
A ruddy refugee from Earl's Court.

With a hot-water bottle. Look.

And a letter of introduction
to the secretary of the governor.

The secretary, mind you. Disgusting.

Purser! My box.

Uh, a bit up and down, isn't it, sir?

- It's gone!
- Oh, yes, indeed. Major Ross took it.

I saw him sneak it out of your cabin.

I like to keep my eye on
what goes on about the ship.

- Where did he take it?
- I believe Mr. Peterson's cabin.

In fact, I'm sure.

Ah!

Now may I ask what explanation
you have to offer?

He forgot his hot-water bottle.

- Billy?
- Come in.

- Billy, have you heard what's happened?
- Haven't seen a paper in days.

It's not funny.
They've stolen Harry's dispatch box.

- Who stole his dispatch box?
- That dreadful little major.

He took it to Peterson.
They went through it.

It's all your fault.
I suppose you know that.

- My fault?
- The poppycock you've been peddling.

All that junk about the Chelm interest
in London, uranium on your land.

Well, in a way, you're the one to blame.

- I'm the--?
- I mean, you acted so superior.

I was falling in love with you and I--

I couldn't bear for you
to think I was just a nobody,

married to the son of a boardinghouse
in Earl's Court.

The-- The son of a what?

A boardinghouse.
That's what Harry's parents do.

They run a boardinghouse
for decayed gentlefolk.

But the way he talks, the way he acts,
I thought--

It's just that he sees himself
in a place in the West Country

with trout streams and horses,
leading the life of a country squire.

It's not his fault if people take it
for granted that he has a place like that.

He's never once said that he had.

Country gent, son of a boardinghouse
or whatever he is,

I suppose I'd better get his box back.

- Oh, he got it back himself.
- Then there's no harm done.

Except that Harry's gone to the captain.
He's going to have them put in irons.

He is what?

He says that's what they did
in the Royal Marines.

Look here, Skipper, there's a perfectly
simple explanation for all this.

I happen to own a dispatch box
which is very similar to Mr. Chelm's.

When I didn't find it in my cabin,
I asked Major Ross

to see if it had been stowed away
somewhere else by mistake.

The major found what he thought was
my box in the saloon with other luggage.

The box has been in my cabin
ever since we sailed, under the berth.

As soon as I saw the box, of course,
I realized at once that it wasn't mine.

I simply opened it to find out
to whom it belonged,

so that I could return it
to its rightful owner.

I can't conceive why this gentleman
should imagine I'd be interested

in a box containing patent medicines.

I'm not a hypochondriac.

Purser, tell the captain exactly
what you told me about the box.

Why, sir, you asked me whether
I had seen it, and I said

it might be the one I'd seen being carried
along the passage by Major Ross.

You distinctly told me that
you'd seen it being taken from my cabin.

Oh, you must've misunderstood.

You were rather ill at the time
if you remember, sir.

- That's all, Purser.
- He's been bribed.

He's in league with these criminals.

Just a case of a misunderstanding.
That's how I look at it.

Now, what about a little cognac
to wash away any ill feeling?

I don't care for a drink.

And let me assure you
that this matter is far from settled.

While rifling through my personal effects,
I feel certain that you must've noticed

I had a letter of introduction
to the secretary of the governor.

I suspect he'll be
much more interested in what I have to say

than this gin-soaked,
so-called ship's captain!

You mind your tongue! Any more insults,
you're the one I put in irons!

As far as I'm concerned,
this is a closed incident.

Chelm, you've got your box back.
Why don't you forget the whole thing?

What possible interest do you expect
the Colonial Office to take in it?

On the contrary, I expect them to show
considerable interest in a gang of crooks

who are trying to swindle the country
out of vast uranium deposits.

Just one moment, sir.

What leads you to believe--

This gentleman obviously
hasn't seen fit to inform you

that during your supposed demise,

he attempted to lure me
into your nefarious venture.

Unfortunately for you, he acquainted me
with all the pertinent facts,

facts which I intend to communicate
to the proper authority

at the very earliest opportunity.

I thought you were dead!

That's what they told me.
Everyone told me you were dead.

And if you were dead,
we had to have fresh capital, didn't we?

You, Ravello, my own partner,

sneak out behind my back
and try to cheat me!

The milk's spilt.
It's no good crying over it.

Get after him, Billy.
Calm him down. Talk to him.

See if you can't get him
to change his attitude.

I'll try, but I don't think
it'll do any good.

I don't know why we have to worry
about Chelm's attitude.

Talk's no good.
Conversation never convinced anybody.

- I say put an end to words!
- Shut up, Jack.

Time factor has entered the picture again.

This time, fortunately,
it's working on our side.

Two weeks before we reach port.

That should be plenty of time
to convince our friend Chelm.

I beg you, please end all this trouble.

If things go on,

either you will be done away with
before we ever get to Africa,

or you will leave and denounce
Peterson to the authorities

and that will be the ruin
of all my plans and hopes.

In the long run, you'll do much better
to get clear of these people.

- They're thoroughly undesirable.
- "The long run."

I'm tired of "the long run."

I am not even thinking
about them or about myself.

- It's only you that concerns me, Harry.
- No need to worry about me.

Ever since I met you,

you fill my thinking.

You are becoming an obsession.

Don't you understand, Harry?

I am deeply in love.

Maria.

My dear.

Only you could make
a woman feel like this.

All I want is to be in your arms,

now and always.

You forget I'm going to be done away with.

Oh, no, no, it will be easy to arrange.

What you must do is this:

You will write me a letter--
a love letter.

You will tell me
that you cannot denounce Peterson

because then I will suffer too.

Because you love me so much,
you cannot bear to hurt me.

Such a letter they will believe
if I show it to them.

My dear girl, you must see that
this is quite out of the question.

I don't propose to make compromises.

Not compromises, Harry darling.

But you can see, if you cause trouble,
the whole of our plans--

my plans--

You would not want
to make the innocent suffer.

It would be much better
if you don't interfere, Maria.

I must handle this as I see fit.

Then you intend to go ahead
with this business?

Tell stories and ruin everything?

It'll be much better
if you cut loose from these people.

No happiness can come
from such an association.

Harry, I'm asking you not to do this.
Please, write a letter.

Then there will be no trouble for you,
no trouble for us,

no risk when we get to Africa!

I'm sorry, my dear.
We English are a very pigheaded lot.

You think you can get away with this?

But, Maria, my dear, good Maria, listen--

First you make love to me.
Now you tell me you will ruin me.

You'll forgive me,
but it was you who made...

Oh, shut your trap!
Go on! Do what you like!

You think you're such a brave man.
I'll tell you what you are.

You are a heel!

What the blazes now?

What's happening? What's going on here?

The oil pump's on the blink.
The electricity's failed.

Utter folly.
A ship lying in darkness this way--

We might well be rammed at any minute.

I'll tend to this myself.
Which way is the engine room?

- The passengers are not permitted--
- I'm sure your chief engineer

would welcome the advice
of an ex-officer of the Royal Marines.

Look here, you fool.
Are we simply abandoned to our fate?

- I insist on something being done.
- For instance?

Give out the life belts.
Organize the boat drill.

The clientele are requested
to remain calm.

To remain calm? Does the captain feel
no sense of responsibility

for the lives of his passengers?

It's my opinion that the captain doesn't
feel much of anything at the moment.

Do you mean to say he's drunk?

The fellow ought to be made
to walk the plank.

I'm afraid just now he cannot walk at all.

- Well, this is outrageous--
- Oh, sit down, old man.

What have you got to worry about?

We're only adrift in an open sea
with a drunken captain

and an engine that's liable
to explode at any moment.

Perfectly ordinary situation.
Happens every day.

But just in case any of you
are still at all anxious,

let it be known that Mr. Chelm has
taken charge in the engine room.

Who's taken charge?

Harry, and he'll foozle it for sure.

Shall I get out the hymnbooks?

Your husband claims to have learned
all about the engine and such things

when he was an officer
in the Royal Marines.

If he ever was.

In point of fact,
not only was he an officer,

but he once won a medal for jumping
into a sea of fire to rescue someone.

It was only a bit of wreckage and not
a man, but that wasn't Harry's fault.

Just a slight error in judgment.

- Oh.
- The lights, they come on.

He must have fixed it.

- Impossible.
- The engines are turning.

- We are underway.
- I still say it's impossible.

Ladies and gentlemen,
may I have your attention for moment?

I'm happy to inform you that the oil pump
is now in perfect working condition.

Putting it right was
no great accomplishment

for anyone with
the slightest mechanical bent.

Anyhow, we may now proceed without
further delay and in absolute safety.

Oh, Harry! You did! You foozled it.

The pig who wrecked my ship!
Where is he? I'll tear out his liver!

Forward, please.
The captain wants to see you.

There you are.

- You devil. You wreck my beautiful ship!
- Nothing of the sort.

Some scalawag down there
sabotaged my work out of pure malice.

You explode my engine!

Let's all behave like little gentlemen.

Stay out of this, Dannreuther.
I can handle the brute.

What happens now?
Do we get the life belts?

Do we abandon the ship?

There's no immediate danger.

The passengers will please
to return to the saloon.

We're heading for the nearest port,

and there seems to be some chance
of our making it.

- Right.
- Let's go.

Come along.

- Now, who was last down?
- Blast!

Billy boy, be a good fellow
and make a fourth at bridge.

The major has no head for cards.

A few rubbers will soothe all our nerves.

No, thank you.
I'll soothe mine with a double scotch.

In fact, I think I'll make it a triple.
No ice, no water. That's it.

How about you, dear Mrs. Dannreuther?

- A little bridge?
- Oh, so sorry.

I have the most fearful headache.
I think I'll go to my cabin.

Oh, what a shame. Well, boys,
we'll have to make it cutthroat.

What about Harry here?
Maybe he'll take a hand.

That, under the circumstances,
is a most unsuitable suggestion.

Gwendolen, I must ask you to either move
to another table or else leave the saloon.

Oh, Harry, for heaven's sake.

I don't care for my wife to associate
with an associate of criminals.

Don't be absurd. Billy's not a criminal.

He's the best friend we have on this boat.

- We're not in need of such friends.
- You need any friends you can get.

The only thing standing between you
and a watery grave is your wits.

That's not my idea of adequate protection.

Purser, how much longer
before this ship reaches port?

If we ever do get to port,
it should be within 14 or 15 hours.

That's a long time. Sit down.
Make yourself comfortable.

Have a drink.
Enjoy the major's piano recital.

Come on, Peterson. Buy us a drink.

I'm afraid I can't accept
hospitality from persons who I intend,

in a few hours' time,
to denounce in the face of justice.

- Two spades.
- I admire your sangfroid, Mr. Peterson.

Or perhaps you don't think I'm serious.
We shall see.

Three clubs.

Double.

Gwendolen, are you going to do as I say?

Not when you speak to me in that tone.
Not when you try to order me about.

- In that case--
- Where are you going?

On deck, where the air is less polluted.

Purser, four tonics.

I think you'd better go after Harry.

Why should I, if he's going to be
so childish and unreasonable?

Take my advice. Go to him. Stay with him.

I suppose you think
we should keep up appearances--

the loyal wife at her husband's side.

No, Billy. I'm experiencing something
that is rare and beautiful.

I shall not deny it,
either by word or by deed.

I love you. Let the whole world know it.
I love you, I love you.

Keeping up appearances
isn't exactly what I meant.

Why do you want
to send me tagging after Harry?

He's being such a deadly bore tonight.

- Deadly, but not dead. Not yet.
- What do you mean?

They killed one man just because they
thought he might try get in their way.

Now handsome Harry here's threatened
to blow the whole thing wide open.

- They killed a man? Really? Who?
- Mm-hmm.

Just a man.

Well,
for all Harry's being too, too tiresome,

and my loving you to distraction,

I still wouldn't want to see him done in.

He has some perfectly
darling traits, really.

I mean, like,
always remembering one's birthday.

No, we simply mustn't
let anybody murder Harry.

Well, keep him in your cabin.
Never let him out of your sight.

Keep him under lock and key.

Oh, please!
That awful music. It's so loud.

It comes right into our cabin.

Peterson, tell the major
to soft-peddle it.

And while he's about it,
he might change the tune.

Don't you like it?
It's one of my favorites.

I'm afraid he doesn't know any others.

Do you, Jack?

Major!

I love the tinny sound of a player piano.

It reminds me of the days of my youth.

- Do I hear a lady screaming?
- One down.

Captain! Captain!

What happened?

Oh, Billy, all that screaming--
I thought someone had been killed.

- Someone nearly was.
- Indeed they were. Look at the major.

Better get a new act, Peterson.
The curtain's going down on this one.

Every time I turn my back,
someone makes trouble!

The passengers break the engine,

they beat each other with fists,
they throw each other overboard!

- That man attacked me.
- Oh, you! You again!

If I struck him, it was in self-defense.

He came sneaking up behind me and tried
to run me through with his sword.

- Is that true?
- Well--

It's no use, Billy,
my trying to protect Harry any further.

I may as well tell the whole truth.

Captain, it grieves me to confess this,

but in point of fact,
my husband has an illness of the mind.

The medical word for it is "paranoia."

On occasion,
he displays homicidal tendencies.

The psychiatrists say it's because

he believes
people are plotting against him,

and so he strikes back
and tries to kill them.

Gwendolen! For heaven's sake, woman!
What's the meaning of this treachery?

Believe it or not, Harry,
I'm doing it for your own good.

He knows! He saved my life.
He'll tell the truth.

I wouldn't contradict the lady.

You wrecked my ship!
You tried to kill the passengers!

But I'm the only sane person on this ship!
It's my word against his!

Let me go! I'll kill all of you!
I warn you, Captain!

Poor Harry. It's awfully sad.
We've tried everything to cure him.

How dare you lay hands on me!
You hooligans!

I'll have you put in irons!
You'll be the ones in irons!

Good. Good.
We've had enough trouble from you.

Scum! Mongrels!

I'll bring you to book! Every one of you!

Every man jack of you!

After all, it was the only solution.

Harry's safely locked in his cabin where
those beastly men can't do him any harm.

On the other hand,
he can't say or do anything now

to interfere with your making
that fortune in Africa.

I mean,
the authorities would hardly listen

to the ravings of a lunatic, would they?

Well, they won't even
let him off the boat.

Well, in that case, he'll just have
to stay shut up for a few weeks.

It's a bit hard on the old boy,
don't you think?

Yes, but after you've amassed
all those African millions,

we'll make it up to him.

We'll buy him a country place
in Gloucestershire

with some rough shooting

and a trout stream,
like he's always wanted.

Maria will marry him, perhaps.

She seems to have a very real feeling
for English country life.

And everybody lives happily ever after.

Especially us, Billy.

Boat stations, everyone.
Prepare for abandon ship.

- What's going on?
- I believe, sir, that we are sinking.

Boat stations, everybody.

We're sinking.

Harry! Harry, open the door!
You must! The ship's sinking!

Here. Get back.

We can't! We simply can't leave without
finding out what's happened to Harry.

Maybe we'll run across him out there.
He's a strong swimmer, isn't he?

Do you really think so?

I don't say we will, but it's possible.
Anything's possible.

- Here, give me that oar.
- Harry!

Harry!

- Where do you suppose we are?
- Africa.

- What part of Africa?
- Yes, that's important. What part?

It's not a bad place to land.
No customs, no forms to fill out.

Tell us at once where we are.
It's important I know.

Do you mean to say there are
parts of the dark continent

where you won't be received
like the prodigal son?

Allejo.

- What's that?
- Allejo.

Better get down, everybody.

Get rid of your passports, boys.

Mrs. Chelm, Billy-boy,
my identity must remain a secret.

Allejo, what's that?

It was a company that sold arms
to the Arab Legions.

Wait a minute. That rings a bell.

Some of the equipment
we sold them was defective.

Been too long under the water
in the Gulf of Leyte.

The Arabs claimed they lost the war
because of rusty guns and dud ammunition.

For heaven's sake, be quiet.
If you go on like that, I'll be--

I'll see you drawn and quartered.

Are you going to allow them
to bully you in this way?

- Why, it's simply--
- Shocking.

Harry wouldn't have let them do it.
He had a sense of dignity.

I have a sense of survival.

Billy, what is going to happen?

Do you think they will torture us?

Just let them try it.
I'm a British subject.

I wouldn't say it too loud.

We shipwreck.

Big boat go down.

Bottom ocean.

We take little boat.

Row all day, row all night.

Savvy?

Only one way
to deal with these swine.

Walk up to them and kick 'em in the belly.

Show 'em who's boss right away.

We sight land-- your land.

Praise Allah.

Come ashore. Suddenly, boom, boom, boom.

No good way treat shipwreck people.

You will please to hand over
your passports.

There seem to be four missing.

Will those who have not handed
over their passports

hold up their hands?

All left on board ship, Your Excellency.

A terrifying experience.

An incompetent crew, a burning ship.

Put overboard in a small boat
at dead of night.

- What was the name of the vessel?
- The SS Nyanga. She's a Portuguese ship.

I will investigate whether such a ship
has been reported lost at sea.

Does it stand to reason, Your Excellency,

we should come to this shore in a small
boat if we'd not been shipwrecked?

- Our country is in a state of unrest.
- Oh, I am sorry.

Agents of certain foreign governments
sometimes try to enter it by stealth--

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

...hoping to fan the flames of revolution.

Therefore, we check carefully
on the activities of strangers.

Surely, Your Excellency,
in our case one look is sufficient

to convince you of our innocence.

No.

One look is not enough.

If you think we're the enemies
of your country,

the logical thing is to boot us out.

Send us packing by the first available
boat or train. We shan't object.

We've got important business elsewhere.

Where is elsewhere?

Central Africa.

And what sort of business?

Vacuum cleaners. Sewing machines.

Ah, yes. Businessmen.

All going to Central Africa
to sell vacuum cleaners.

Hut to hut, I suppose.

And you, sir, I take it,
are the head salesman--

the ringleader of this group.

Oh, no, no group.
We met for the first time on board ship.

Complete strangers to one another.

Liar! The others all look at you
each time I ask a question.

I am a keen observer.
You four are together.

Oh, no, my fat-gutted friend.

I'm not the little and simpleminded native
you're fool enough to take me for.

I am a great man. A serious man.
I spit on you.

I spit on you and all of your lot.

Off to the wrong start, Peterson.

There's only one way
to deal with these swine!

Swine! Swine!

You'd better be careful.

My husband, my late husband,

who was drowned in the Nyanga disaster,

happened to be one
of the most important figures

in the British government,
Sir Harry Chelm.

In point of fact, we had letters
from the prime minister and the queen

telling everyone to be particularly
courteous to us and our friends.

So you see,
if any harm befalls us at your hands,

it will become
a major international incident.

Would you instruct that one

that in my country,
a female's lips may move,

but her words are not heard.

Oh, Harry. Harry.

If only you were here.

And, now, sir, you will stop
abusing my intelligence

and tell me who you really are

and what is your actual purpose
in being here.

I'm a sick man. I've got a bad heart.
I mustn't talk anymore.

You refuse to answer. That is interesting.

It makes a little contest--
a contest in a game at which we excel.

We of this country have had
4,000 years' experience

in asking questions and getting answers.

Who are you? Why are you here?

Don't hit me again!
My heart! I'll have an attack!

Of course, Billy has led
a thoroughly decadent life, but,

I must say, I thought he had
more backbone than that.

Backbone.
Either you have it or you haven't.

You see the beating I took at the hands
of that great, ugly brute

without even flinching?

Billy was crazed with fear before
they even laid a finger on him.

Tell me more about Rita Hayworth.
You really know her very well?

Do I know Rita?
Oh, do I know her.

I'll give you a letter of introduction.

She'll fall immediate victim
to your charms.

- You really think so?
- Oh, but certainly.

A man like you-- suave, intelligent,

darkly handsome.

You have everything, Ahmed, except money.

And if you listen to me,

a boat will be placed at our disposal,
a very slow boat,

so that Fat Gut's check will have
plenty of time to clear.

And you would trust me for your share?

Does one man of the world ask
another to trust his own brother?

Oh, no, Ahmed.
You'll give me a check for half.

Your demands are very great
under the circumstances.

Why shouldn't they be?
Fat Gut's my best friend.

I will not betray him cheaply.

You are certain that you are
the friend of the peerless Rita?

Come, come, Ahmed. Mind back to business.

Very well. 50-50.

Oh, by the way,
Fat Gut's nature isn't noble like ours.

He might try to bargain.

I do not bargain
with a puffball like that.

It's beneath my dignity.

It'll be dawn soon.
The correct hour for a firing squad.

But if we have him shot,
what about the money?

I was just thinking that if he heard
a volley at the psychological moment,

he might not be so inclined to haggle.

I believe you must have Arab blood.

Westerners are not usually so subtle.

Where are you taking me?
I won't go! I demand to see a doctor!

Would you say that in Paris,

among smart people,

the Rolls-Royce or the Cadillac

is considered more chic?

Well, that's no problem,
no problem at all.

A man in your position should have both.

Ah.

Mr. Dannreuther, I believe,
would like a word with you.

- Billy.
- Sit down, Peterson.

Uh, I've been talking to Ahmed here,
and, uh...

It's blackmail. I can't pay.

What was that?

Firing squad. It's execution day.

Will he take a check?

Billy!

Billy, look! The Nyanga!

Stay away! Stay away from my ship!

If you try to come aboard,
I will shoot you! I will shoot you!

Get my gun! Get my gun!

Give it to him. Maybe he'll shoot himself.

My gun! My gun!

Excuse me.

- Are you Mr. William Dannreuther?
- That's right.

I'd like to ask you a few questions,
if I may.

- Well, I'm sorry. Not now.
- Forgive me, but it's rather important.

Yes, it always is.
I was a newspaper man myself once.

Very well, you may quote me as saying
that everybody was heroic,

except Mrs. Dannreuther,
who ate all our boots.

- Very amusing, but I'm not a reporter.
- Oh?

Jack, go to the phone. Make reservations
for the first plane to Nairobi.

Six seats.

Yes, and if they don't have any,
talk to the right man and tell him

if he kicks other people off the plane,
we'll make it worth his while.

I always said we ought to take a plane.

You remember I said that, Mr. O'Horror.
I said, "We ought to take a plane."

Mustn't dawdle, Billy boy.
A great deal to do and not much time.

Those are the other members of your party?

- Yes.
- I'd like to talk with them too.

What's it all about?

I believe you were acquainted
with a Mr. Vanmere, now deceased.

Peterson. You and the boys
better come back down.

A gentleman here wants to speak to you,
a Mr. Jack Clayton of Scotland Yard.

You take your wine here
or upstairs, Mr. Dann?

Oh, we'll have it here.
Care to join us in a drink, Clayton?

No, thanks.
It's a bit early in the day for me.

I read somewhere that
a Scotland Yard man never accepts a drink

from anyone he intends to arrest.

- Is that true, Mr. Clayton?
- Quite so.

- Mrs. Dannreuther?
- No, I'm Mrs. Chelm.

- This is Mrs. Dannreuther.
- How do you do?

I wouldn't dream
of alarming you lovely ladies.

So perhaps I'll have a glass of bubbly
after all.

- Peterson. How do you do, sir?
- How do you do?

Ravello. And Mr. O'Horror.

O'Hara. Julius O'Hara. Delighted.

No, I'm the one to be delighted.

It had begun to look as though I'd never
catch up with you people.

That would've been a bit embarrassing.

You see, this is the first time
I've ever been abroad on an investigation.

I've spent quite a lot of money,

and my chief can be very sarcastic
about the money one spends,

particularly if you fail
to deliver the goods.

Mr. Clayton is presently interested
in the Vanmere murder case.

The Vanmere murder case. Oh, yes.
That fellow in the Colonial Office.

Yes, I read about that in the paper.
It was a shocking affair.

According to Mr. Vanmere's
appointment book, Mr. Peterson,

you had lunch with him at the Savoy
a few days before his death.

That's quite correct.
Mr. Vanmere was expert on African matters.

We wanted his advice
about affairs in British East.

Do you recall the subject
under discussion?

Vaguely. Crop yield.
The native labor situation.

- The inches of rain.
- Vaccination. Shots.

How long did you know Mr. Vanmere?

Oh, couple of months.
We met half a dozen times.

Did he ever make mention
of any enemies, business or otherwise?

Did he say anything
about romantic attachments?

Did he name any women?

No. I should have been very surprised
if he had done.

Mr. Vanmere struck me
as being every inch a gentlemen.

Of course, of course.

Well, that's all, unless somebody
has anything further to add.

I have.

You ought to know that the business
of one of these businessmen is murder.

- I beg your pardon?
- Major Ross, I mean.

I can't guarantee that Major Ross
murdered this Vanmere person.

I assure you, however,
he attempted to murder my husband

with a long, thin dagger,

which he always carried about in what
looked like an innocent swagger stick.

Go on, Mrs. Chelm.

You see, Major Ross is employed by
Mr. Peterson there to do his dirty work.

One might say he's a professional killer.

My husband found out certain things
about Mr. Peterson,

things, in point of fact,
that are a matter of Empire,

involving, as they do, a plot to exploit
our kingdom's uranium resources.

And that's why Mr. Peterson decided
to have him done away with.

Don't run away, Mr. Peterson.

That's always tantamount
to a confession of guilt.

Tantamount is what I call it.

More champagne, Clayton?

No, thank you.

Should you ever think of me
in Earl's Court, that's where I'll be--

helping Harry's parents with the lodgers.

Should you ever think of me,
try not to let it be too harshly.

You kiss her too, Billy,
and tell her she's forgiven.

- Sure, sure.
- Good-bye, Billy.

Bye.

For Mrs. Chelm.
Just came on the ship's wireless.

Oh, by the way, Mr. Dannreuther,

do you know your associates
are all in the hoosegow?

Oh, not that I'm a bit surprised.

I put them down as thoroughly
bad characters right off the bat.

But then there are so many
bad characters nowadays.

Take mine, for instance.

Harry! He's alive!

Oh.

Oh, this is the end.

The end.