All language subtitles for 1946 720p BluRay FLAC2.0 x264-IDE

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- I first
saw the light of day

through the iron
bars of a prison

in a small town some
50 miles from Paris.

When the prison matron, who
was also the prison midwife,

filled in my birth certificate,

she caused what may be
regarded as the one blot

on my family escutcheon,

and as a result I never
knew my father's name.

In my zeal to correct
this omission,

I was to borrow many
names for many occasions,

until I hit upon the one that
France will long remember.

Eugene Francois Vidocq.

Like most great mean, I came
of a poor but honest family,

a little poorer than honest.

The difference accounted
for my being born in prison.

Whenever poor Mama
expected another baby,

and consequently needed shelter,

it was her custom to steal a
loaf of bread and go to prison.

She had stolen 11 loaves,
served 11 sentences,

and had 11 children
when to her misfortunes

were added a twelfth
loaf, a twelfth sentence,

and my humble self.

When poor Mama went
to a better world,

leaving me to make
the best of this one,

what is more natural than
that I should often return

to the happy scene of
my earliest childhood?

And so after many years,
again I find myself

among those dear familiar
sights and smells,

spending another
birthday at home.

My monastic seclusion
was devoted to

a study of the classics,
particularly one

from which I acquired my style,

not only in literature
but in my brilliant career

of love and crime.

My modest apartment was
shared by a sympathetic

companion into whose
company the authorities

had happily thrown me.

He was a cutpurse whose
knife could rip a pocket

most profitably, 'til
one day his knife

had gone a little deeper
and Emile was sent to jail

a little longer than usual.

He may have had his faults,
but his care for my wardrobe

and for me was truly touching.

He never woke me before ten.

- Happy birthday!

- Happy birthday!

- Jailor's daughter.

- Oh.

Well, tell her that
I'm not at home.

- All right.

- My father does...

- Shh, he's still asleep.

- My father doesn't
know I'm here,

but a sweet old lady came
all the way from Paris

to bring this birthday
gift, and I thought...

- That's from my Aunt Ernestine.

Thank you.

Thank you, Jeanette.

Present from my Aunt
Ernestine to you.

Such a good woman.

She, she knows how bad
the food is in jail.

- She ought to, she
spent the best years

of her life in them.

- Oh, no, no.

She didn't, you're
mixing my Aunt Ernestine

with my Uncle Hugo.

He got 15 years.

- Oh yes, for lifting watches.

- Oh, you get everything wrong.

That's my cousin Pierre, he's
the pickpocket of our family.

How often have I told you?

Now look, my Uncle Hugo...

- He is the burglar.

- And what a burglar.

His case was in all the papers.

- Oh, sure.

- He robbed the palace
of the Duke d'Orleans.

- Let's get on with
Aunt Ernestine's cake.

- Oh, yes, the cake.

- I'm sure she lifted it from
the best pastry shop in Paris.

- Oh, Aunt Ernestine only
deals with the best shops.

And you know, Uncle Hugo
says it's always cheaper

to steal in the most
expensive places.

Here.

Oh, wait, wait.

It's your birthday, make a wish.

- Made.

My wish!

A file!

How very thoughtful
of Aunt Ernestine.

And it works, too.

We must remember to thank
her when we get to Paris.

- There, see?

The town of Neuilly, and
Saint George's Church.

Only a few more hours to Paris.

- Emile was that
grimmest of characters,

an early morning optimist.

All through the rainy night
he had added to my misery

with his unfailing
cheerfulness and family stories

while we'd been running,
dodging, jumping fences,

soaked to the skins we
were trying to save.

At last, it was the porch of
the kindly church of St. George

that offered us shelter from
the rain, and from the police.

You've got two legs
and I've got two legs,

but together they don't add up
to the four legs of a horse.

- A horse?

No, they don't.

- At last, the rain had stopped.

Timidly, the sun came
out and the little town

awakened to its sleepy day.

On the church steps
the pigeons were cooing

and fluttering about,
but we snored on.

'Til our dreams were disturbed
by the sound of voices.

- Father, did
you ever see such a

contrast between two faces?

- Such innocence on one.

Such evil on the other.

Monsieur, would you object
to making a little money?

- Money?

- If I could only catch
that soulless animal look,

oh, what a dragon!

And there, the very
image of a saint.

Your face, my dear monsieur,
expresses the essence

of that purity for which
Saint George lived,

fought, and conquered.

What the wind and weather of
400 years have obliterated

could only have been restored
by the faith to will it,

the art to execute it, and
Providence's gift of models

to pose for it.

Ah, please don't
move, Monsieur Dragon.

Ease your paw a little lower,

and if you could just
recapture that avid expression.

The one you had when I
offered you the money.

- Oh yes!

How about the money?

- That's good, that's good.

Now look up.

Thank you.

What a wonderfully
horrible thing.

- Master, I congratulate you.

Saint George is divine.

The dragon will excite horror
in every prior's heart.

But your horse... what a horse.

It's even better
than your saint.

A horse to the life.

A horse that could
take you to Nievre,

to Lyon, to Marseille.

It could even be sold.

What are you waiting for?

- Please don't move, Monsieur!

But Monsieur!

But Monsieur, my horse!

Monsieur!

I'm not finished!

My horse!

- Meet my family.

This is my Aunt Ernestine.

- Enchanted, Mademoiselle.

Your cake, and especially its
filling, were a revelation.

- A revelation, Auntie.

- And this must be Uncle
Hugo, the head of the family.

- Sorry that you find
me in my foot bath,

but I caught rheumatism from
being out late at night.

- Oh, may I suggest that you
add a spoonful of mustard

to the water?

- Eh?

- Mustard.

My mother used to suffer from
the same occupational disease,

and mustard never failed her.

- Uncle is stubborn.

Uncle won't wear a shawl
when he goes stealing.

- Hush!

What language.

- Our little Louis.

Only 12 years old,
but such busy fingers.

And this is Cousin Pierre.

- Honored.

- And this is Gabriel,
the artist of our family.

- Honored, Monsieur.

- Charmed.

Only this morning we had a
most gratifying encounter

with an artist.

- My dear monsieur,
my dear nephew.

I, that is, the family council,

have debated your difficult
and delicate situation,

and what should
be done about it.

I, uh, that is, the
family, have decided

you must leave Paris
this very night.

- Leave home?

Tonight?

- Your family is convinced
that for both of you,

the safest place is in the army.

- Army?

Safe?

- You will join General
Bonaparte's glorious troops

at Marseilles, where
they are assembling now

for the campaign in, um...

Where is it?

- Egypt.

- Oh, yes, Egypt.

Just think, Emile.

You will be able to fulfill
the dream of my life,

to see the pyramids.

- The pyramids.

- How wonderful, Emile.

- Hand me the documents.

All night long, our dear
Gabriel has bent over

his printing press in
the cellar to make these

for you, Monsieur, and
for you, my dear nephew.

- But, Uncle.

Suppose we are shot before
we get to the pyramids.

- Don't be morbid, Emile.

The rank of First Lieutenant
of the Artillery is

hereby bestowed upon the
honorable Eugene Francois Rousseu.

Rousseu?

- Your new name.

- Oh, I see.

Signed Napoleon Bonaparte,

in the general's own
unmistakable handwriting.

Monsieur Gabriel, a masterpiece.

- Nothing, nothing.

At least compared to my last
issue of the Bank of France.

- Monsieur, I bow to your art.

At Marseilles, our stolen
uniforms and counterfeit passports

had been accepted
without question.

But a soldier's uniform
is hardly complete

without a lovely lady
leaning on his sleeve.

Emile and I still needed that
one sentimental accessory

and were looking for it.

- Gentlemen, gentlemen,
come inside and see Loretta,

the beautiful shadow on
the Mediterranean screen,

enticing, alluring,
elusive, provocative,

and two francs only.

- Two francs for Loretta?

Have we got that much?

- Two francs?

- Ahh, come in
gentlemen, come in!

They call me Sweet Loretta

Although I set
your heart aflame

You'll find when
you know me better

I play a calculating game

Some girls go for
handsome young gendarmes,

But I'm saving my charms
for better than a corporal

Some girls go for
slightly bigger game,

But I'm saving my flames
for better than a captain

I've got a flame
that's too hot to handle

There's no one who
can hold a candle

To the dame who's the flame
and the scandal of Paris

Some girls go for
flowers and romance

I'm not taking a chance

My flame is for a general

To arms, to men of fire

We'll play a sentimental game

Take out your
pipe and your brier

Tonight I'll light
them with my flame

- No need for my
flame, Lieutenant?

There's never been
anyone who's met her

Who could kiss her
and then forget her

There's no cure for
a more much better

Than Loretta

Some girls go for
flowers and romance

I'm not taking a chance

My flame is for a general

I like your curly
hair, Monsieur

You have that
certain flare, Monsieur

We'd make a lovely
pair, Monsieur, but

My flame is for a

General

Come in.

Ohhh, it's you, Lieutenant.

- Lieutenant Rousseau,
at your service.

- Have you changed your mind?

- Mademoiselle, I
just came to tell you

that your beauty is overshadowed
only by your talent.

You should be in
the Paris opera,

in the Imperial
Theater of Vienna.

- I should be in Tortoni's
restaurant right now.

I'm late for a
supper engagement.

- Mademoiselle, you
are a charming realist.

- And you.

You're an idealist, of course.

- Of course.

- Ah-ha.

You don't look like one.

- Well, what does an
idealist look like?

- Oh, very noble,
innocent, very, very shy.

- Enough, Mademoiselle.

I confess that I'm not one.

- No, no more, I told you
I'm expected at Tortoni's.

- By a captain or a colonel?

- Oh, higher than that.

The chief of police.

- Richet?

Who's he trying to catch here?

- A shadow.

Would you pass me my garter?

- Oh, I see.

So that's the way
the chief of police

tries to catch a shadow.

May I, Mademoiselle?

It appears that your
knight of the garter

has excellent taste.

- Beautiful rubies, aren't they.

- I was referring to
Mademoiselle's beautiful leg.

- Oh.

- May I escort you?

- Oh, no, no, I...

- Just to the door at Tortoni's.

Then I promise to vanish.

- You promise?

- Promise.

Emile, a cab.

- Oh, Tortoni's.

I must hurry.

- Emile, I've got it.

The garter.

Move on, make for
the harbor, quick!

- My dear, I've been waiting
for you for the past half...

- Oh!

My garter!

- What?

What about my, er, your garter?

- He stole it, I mean...

- Who stole it?

- The gentleman who
brought me here in a cab.

- What's this?

You were with a gentleman,
alone, in a cab?

Is it possible that a gentleman

could steal a respectable
woman's garter without...

- Yes!

No.

I mean, he must
have taken it off

while he was putting it on.

- What!

How can you take it
off when you put...

You mean to say he put it on?

- Oh, I don't know.

On, off, it's gone.

- Please, please.

Mademoiselle.

You must not look upon me as

the grateful friend who
gave you the garter,

but as the detective who
will help you recover it.

But first, the facts.

Please be precise.

- What facts
haven't I given you?

- For instance, his name.

- His name, oh.

It might be Rousseu.

Or Drousseau.

Or it could be Trousseu.

- Oh, well, the criminals
change their name

oftener than their shirts.

But the appearance is important.

Could it be that he's the
same person about whom

we've had similar complaints
during the past week?

The young, dashing,
Casanova-like type?

- Oh no, no, he was old, bald,

not attractive at all.

- Yes, pray be seated.

Mademoiselle, don't despair.

I have never yet failed
to find what I'm, ahem,

been looking for.

- Then I may leave
everything in your hands.

- Precisely.

- After we had left the army,

we decided that we might
risk a return to Paris.

Paris, capital of the world,

and the El Dorado of
every knight of fortune.

- Look there, again!

The church of St. George.

Only a few hours to Paris.

- My dear dragon, this time
we'd better make a detour.

- Oh.

- You piggish fool, you'll
never catch him that way!

Drive him over Baron
Novier's grave.

Oh, don't go around it, jump it!

Oh Lord, what a monstrous
coward, afraid of a monkey.

I hope he bites you.

- Look at that old Christmas
tree parading around

with diamonds big as tombstones.

If we could only get
our hands on it...

- It isn't done, Emile, to
put such thoughts into words.

Rather let us pay our respects
to those who rest in peace.

- Oh, a fig for your fears.

- Praise Heaven,
Satan has bitten you.

- What is the trouble, Madame?

- Oh, Satan is there, Satan.

Between the Bishop's tombstone
and the grave of Madame de...

Oh, I've forgotten what, that,
that grain-dealer's daughter.

- Where's Satan?

I trust he's not after
the Bishop's soul?

- Well, I trust you'll
catch my little imp,

if your legs are as quick
as your wits, Monsieur.

- Well, Madame, your
lackey has legs,

the gentleman can
only offer his wits.

- What cheek!

Now what a gallant charmer.

My rogue of a monkey is
downright mesmerized.

Look how his eyes
follow the sparkle.

- I've got you, Satan.

- Bravissimo, bravissimo!

Come, my little one.

He ran away while I was putting
lilacs on the count's grave.

You see, I became sentimental,

and my little devil is
frightened of tears.

My fortunate stars, Monsieur,
that you happened by

to look in on some departed
friend, or relative, perhaps?

- Well, uh...

- No, no, no, don't
tell me, I'll guess.

You see, all of them
here were my friends,

or pretended to be.

- Eh, Monsieur de Claremont
had just such a forehead,

but no, he had
nothing behind it.

Could it be the count?

- Not, uh, not quite a
count, but just a baron.

- Baron?

Ah!

Baron Francois Vidocq,
blood to be sure.

Your lips, your chin, the same
malicious dart in the eye.

Even the same naughty...

But it is not good to speak
of the dead in their presence.

It would be safer to
nibble at his reputation

over a cup of chocolate?

- Charmed.

- Good, I'll expect
you this afternoon.

Any child can direct
you to the chateau

of the Marquise de Pierremont.

- Enchanted, Madame le Marquise.

Emile!

- You're going to
let that hag go

wearing half a jewelry shop?

- Wait until this afternoon.

Why?

- We'll get the whole shop.

- It's worth waiting for.

But, uh, let's not wait here.

- Why not?

What could be more restful?

Find yourself a grave, Emile.

And a name, too,
while you're at it.

- I was half down
the steps before

I realized you weren't
along.

I might've known you were
looking at that picture again.

- I'm in love with it.

- He is handsome.

Much handsomer than
the other saints.

I admit that much.

- Mimi!

One doesn't look a saint
because he's handsome,

but because he's a saint.

- Then why don't you
look at other saints?

Here's St. Joseph, for instance.

I'll tell you why not.

Because he's a carpenter
instead of a knight,

and he's not handsome.

- Oh, Mimi.

What have I done to deserve
such a horrible little sister?

Now let's go home.

- Home?

- Yes.

- Oh, whenever you
look at that picture

you forget everything.

Have you forgotten our
beautiful secret little plans

to go... good morning, Father.

- Good morning, Father.

- Good morning, Mimi.

And good morning, Therese.

- Come on.

- Therese, is it really
true, what your sister said?

- Of course not!

- Are you really in love?

- Therese, tell us who he is!

- Yes, who is it?

- Mimi, you're a chatterbox.

- I didn't tell with whom.

I wouldn't have told anything,

but Odette says you think
too much of yourself

to fall in love.

Ever.

- Then it is true!

- Perhaps.

- Who is the man?

- There is no man.

- Oh, how can you be
in love with nobody?

- Why not?

Love has existed
long before we did.

- Oh, you're just
trying to be mysterious.

- I still say she
thinks no man on earth

is good enough for her.

That's why you're always
running off to church.

You want to become
a bride of Heaven.

- Yes.

Sometimes I think
I'd like to be a nun.

- A nun?

I wouldn't want to hide
my shoulders under a cowl.

- I must go home now.

Therese, Elaine, would you
help me lace my bodice?

- Come out, it's time to dress.

- Therese, Mimi,
aren't you ever coming?

A snake!

A snake!

- A snake?

- Where?

- What do we do?

- I nearly touched it!

It tried to bite me,
it was this long!

No, it was that long!

- Where is it?

- It was under my shirt.

- Coward.

- It's poisonous!

- Let's go, Tilly,
I'm not afraid.

- Not of a snake?

- Not of anything!

- Look, men!

- There!

- He killed the monster.

- Monster?

It was a snake, but no monster.

What's wrong with you?

- What did you say?

- You look as if
you've seen a vision.

- But when he raised
his arm to strike,

it was the same
gesture, same face.

- You're beginning to
see him everywhere.

- One thing more.

Monsieur Vidocq
will stay overnight.

Have his bags brought in
and his man unpack them.

That will be all.

- Very well, Madame.

- Heavens, we're late
for the chocolate!

Grandmama will be furious.

Where's Grandmama?

- With a guest, Mademoiselle.

- A guest?

- I wonder who it is.

- Mimi, stop, Mimi!

- Therese.

- What is it?

- He's in there with Grandmama.

- Who?

- Saint George.

- Saint...

- George.

- Oh!

- I'm beginning to see him, too.

Papa.

- Therese.

Peeping through keyholes?

At your age?

- Oh, I'm so happy to see you.

So happy.

- It's only a week that
you haven't seen me,

and yet I'd no idea Papa's
little girl loved Papa so much.

Better change now,
children, change for dinner.

Papa is hungry.

Is your grandmother in there?

- Yes.

- Wait.

Grandmother's introducing them.

- And this is Monsieur Loudon,
husband of my late daughter.

Otherwise distinguished by
being minister of the police.

- Oh, police?

Oh, enchanted, Monsieur.

Madame le Marquise,
I regret I must

wrench myself from your
presence and retire to my room.

- Oh, pray do.

- He's coming out.

Quick, hide!

Quick!

- Your fan, Mademoiselle.

Forgive me for intruding
upon your reverie.

Oh, there you are.

Show me to my room, please.

- When they
told me to unpack,

I knew you'd
wrangled a stay over.

Instead of having to
break in, we are in.

- Yes, very in, in the house
with the minister of police.

- Minister of what?

- Police.

Will you help me
off with my boots?

Boots!

While I'm at dinner, get
the layout of the house.

I don't care how you
get it, but get it.

- Well, how?

- From a chambermaid.

- Oh.

- Just find out where
the old woman sleeps

and where she keeps her jewelry.

- In case we have to
pry open the lock,

see that your knife
has a sharp point.

- Mm-hmm.

A sharp blade in case the
old woman doesn't sleep well.

- My dear Emile, I hope you're
not suggesting violence.

- Why not?

Are you beginning to go moral?

- This isn't a
question of moral.

It's a bit of manners.

A man who's capable of
killing with a knife

is quite liable to eat with one.

- Madame le Marquise,

to your health and
a very long life.

- Lark, the girls
are late again.

- Madame, the young
ladies ask to be excused.

They have a headache.

Both of them.

- Both of them?

- Your Excellency.

- Oh, yes, show him in.

It's Richet, my chief of police.

- Your Excellency, a matter
of the utmost importance

has arisen, which...

Madame.

A thousand apologies for
intruding on you at dinner,

but I had real...

- Not at all.

Won't you join us?

Sit down.

- Thank you, Your Excellency.

You are very kind indeed.

The Villeneuve stagecoach
was robbed last night.

- What the...

And the thief, have
you caught him?

- Oh, not yet, Your Excellency.

But he's within my grasp.

- Your Excellency,
if you don't mind, I, uh...

- Oh, don't go, Monsieur.

Nothing you can't hear.

- Your Excellency, Villeneuve is

the final proof of my theory.

Again the criminal is
described as young, dashing,

Casanova-like...

- But in all the other
cases, there was a woman.

- Your Excellency, in
the coach there were six.

I shall prove my theory.

Here we are, near Paris.

And this is
Marseilles, thank you.

Marseilles, where the criminal,

disguised as a young
lieutenant of artillery,

committed a crime that
was, uh, rather delicate

and somewhat personal, Madame.

And next, Nice, where
he had the audacity

to impersonate Lord Byron.

- A monstrous rogue,
this criminal!

I'd like to meet him.

- And now, the trail of
his subsequent moves.

First, Abbeville last
month, Bonne last week,

Villaneuve last
night, and next...

- Paris.

- Precisely.

- Richet.

You'd better put a guard
around the Bank of Paris.

- And you'd better put a guard
around the banker's wife.

- He is a widower.

- How unfortunate.

- I've planted my men
on all roads to Paris.

The criminal will be
walking into my web.

- Lark, I hope he
walks into my parlor

before he walks into your web.

- At the moment, Madame, he
could hardly walk into one

without walking into the other.

- And I assure you, Madame,

that's the very
last thing he'd do.

- I disagree with you, Monsieur.

In crime, as in love, there
are only those who do,

and those who don't dare.

- Well, I don't suppose
there's much doing

around here after dark.

That is, uh, for a neat
little trick like you.

- Not while the old
Marquise is around,

to see lights out by ten.

- Ten?

Then we have to
shut up by ten, too?

- Oh, no.

Marquise is over on that side.

- That side?

- Uh-huh.

And the guest room is on...

- Yes, I know, I know,
guest room on that side.

Well, my knife is
getting a little dull.

You got a sharpener?

- Sharpener?

There.

- Open the window a bit.

Fresh air is bad for the health,

but it's stifling hot tonight.

How that Monsieur Vidocq
reminds me of his great-uncle.

A pox on you, Satan,
I will not have

your devilish fingers
mixing my jewels!

Here's the key, put them away.

It's already past
ten, past our bedtime.

It's only heat lightning.

Why, little one!

Don't be frightened.

It won't storm, I'll watch them.

- Your key, Madame.

- Snuff the candle.

Oh, no, no no no.

- And if it doesn't
storm tonight

it'll certainly
storm in the morning.

If Grandmama finds we
haven't been in bed...

- Mimi, you insisted on coming.

Have you forgotten
how important it is?

We must make sure!

- Oh, Therese!

Suppose...

Suppose someone sees us!

Oh, Therese, come!

- We weren't mistaken.

The same face.

- Put them in Madame's wig.

Satan!

- What is it?

Who's there?

Oh, it's only Satan.

- Leave the door open.

- Therese!

The door's wide open!

We left it closed!

- It must be one of the maids.

Come.

- We'll hide them in
there, and come back later,

when the roads are
not being watched.

- It's the wig, the wig.

The door is closed!

We left it open.

- Your knife.

It's bolted.

Must be one of the maids.

- We are locked out.

- You wait here,
I'll let you in.

- One of my choicest roses,

for one of the choicest
little flowers in my parish.

- Thank you, Father.

- Shall we walk today?

When two people walk, each
can speak as if to himself,

and still be heard by the other.

- Last night, I...

It was so hot.

I slept badly.

But I dreamt a man
came into my room.

I only dreamt it.

He bent over my
bed and kissed me.

Is it a sin, such
a dream, Father?

- Hardly, fair child.

Dreams come unbidden, like
the man into your room.

Did you recognize him?

- Oh, yes, I know
his face so well.

I worshiped it ever since

I saw it for the first
time in this church.

It seems to express everything
that's pure and valiant.

As he raises his arm
to strike the dragon.

- Saint George?

- Yes, Father.

Is it a sin to be in love
with the face of a saint?

- Not exactly.

Not if your love is directed
toward the saint in Heaven,

rather than to the painted wall
which embodies him on earth.

- Oh, I know, Father, if a
man can have such a face,

he really must be
like Saint George.

- Therese.

Perhaps I should tell you.

The man who posed for Saint
George was far from infallible.

- Posed?

- Yes, some two
years ago, when...

- Two!

You mean 200 years ago.

- My child, I am not
referring to the original,

which is even older than that.

But time and weather
had damaged the faces

of Saint George and the dragon.

And an artist was
hired to restore them.

In all innocence, he chose
for his models two passersby

in whose faces he saw,
or fancies he saw,

the extremes of evil and good.

- Oh, Father, now I
understand everything.

- Not quite, I'm afraid.

I've never talked about
this except with the bishop.

But those two passersby were
far from being worthy men.

As it turned out, they'd
escaped from prison.

- Prison?

- Yes, criminals.

They even stole the
horse they posed on.

They rode off with the armor,
the halo, and everything.

And nobody knows what's
become of them since.

- Criminals!

Both of them?

- Yes, Saint George, too.

I mean the man
who posed for him.

Of course, one never knows.

And who are we to pass
judgement on a life

before the proof gets last out?

- Father.

- Yes?

- If a man's face is good,
can his heart be evil?

- My child.

In all of us, there is a
Saint George and a dragon.

That is the true meaning of
the legend of Saint George.

Evil can be slain only by faith.

We must have faith.

- Wonderful.

What an uproar!

You are missing the best part.

The big Richet,
searching the house.

He's taking his
sleuth everywhere,

and everybody weeping and
quarreling and carrying on.

I've never enjoyed
anything so much.

I just can't bear it.

- My dear Emile, we always
have enough strength

to bear the
misfortunes of others.

- You know, even Uncle Hugo
never pulled over a job

with the whole police
force in the house.

- Come in.

- Monsieur.

This terrible robbery,
no doubt you've heard?

- Yes.

- Yes, well, um, Richet,
my chief of police,

insists on searching
all the rooms.

I hope you don't mind.

- Oh, but it is your
house, Monsieur.

- Thank you.

Richet.

- Aha.

- Emile,
help Monsieur Richet.

- I don't require any help.

- He don't require any help.

- Oh, Therese, where have
you been all morning?

- What is it?

- You've missed everything.

We've been having the
most wonderful time.

Grandmama's jewels, her wig,

the poor thing can't
leave her room without it.

- What are you talking about?

- We've been robbed!

Isn't it exciting?

- Robbed?

- They've been
searching all the rooms.

Saint George's, too.

- Saint George!

- When I heard that
I was ready to swoon,

but Grandmama says I mustn't.

I'm not old enough.

- Monsieur Richet!

Did you catch the robber?

- Mademoiselle, I am no
longer in an official position

to answer any questions
concerning the case.

Your father has seen
fit to discharge me.

- Discharge!

- Where did I leave my umbrella?

Forgive me for being so upset.

I thought I'd left it in
the hall here somewhere.

Yes, discharged.

Whatever will my
wife say to that?

She's a young, beautiful
woman, and I...

I am not a rich man.

Your father has done
me a grave injustice.

Of course, I know His
Excellency needed a scapegoat,

and since I didn't
recover the jewels, I...

But there's one thing I know.

The robbery was
committed from inside.

- What?

- The thief is in the house.

- Mr. Richet, I
found it, I found it!

- Oh, my umbrella.

Thank you.

Thank you.

At least I found that,
I mean, you found it.

My wife gave it to me for
our second anniversary.

She's so young, so beautiful.

But I told you that before.

Mademoiselle, I assure
you the day will come

when your father will
agree with me that I had...

- Bad luck.

- Yes, that's right.

Never open an umbrella
before you go out.

Now, don't forget that.

Now, what was I saying?

- That the thief
was in the house.

- Yes, precisely.

Mademoiselle, I...

- Monsieur, your hat.

- Thank you, I forgot.

- The dragon!

- Here is your
flower, Mademoiselle.

Nice little girl.

The big one.

- The third time.

- What?

Third time?

- That I've seen her and
she hasn't said a word.

Remarkable for one of her sex.

I'm afraid a fourth time,

and I'm liable to
fall in love with her.

- Fall in love!

Lay off, that's how they
collared my cousin Pierre.

He went out for one night and

didn't get home for 15 years.

- Don't worry, I'm well aware.

Love and crime make
incompatible bedfellows.

The most perfect criminal
can be traced and caught

if he leaves his heart
behind him as a clue.

Only the heartless succeed
in crime, as in love.

- I can hardly wait to get
back to Paris.

Imagine, with the chief of
police out of the way, why...

It will be a thieves' holiday!

Oh, the rats will play
while the cat's away.

- I'm afraid the cat
won't be away for long.

- What do you mean?

- His Excellency
will find a new cat.

- Who?

- Probably whoever
saves him from ridicule

by recovering the jewels.

- Oh, who could do that?

- Yes.

Indeed.

Only one man.

- Who?

- The man who's sitting
in front of you.

- The whole house is
upside down.

I love it.

And now, up pops the dragon.

What next?

- If I only knew what to do.

Whether to tell Papa...

Of course, I should tell him.

- That Monsieur Vidocq
is Saint George?

Papa won't even listen.

He's interested only in
getting back his jewels.

- Yes.

And that would take a miracle.

But the priest said
we must have faith.

- No, to gamble with
jewels worth 50,000 francs!

Even on the thieves' market.

No.

Not with my half.

- My dear Emile,
try to see further

than the point of your knife.

If I become chief of police,

we'll have a chance
to loot a city.

- Loot a city?

What does that mean?

- Conservatively, 15 million.

- 15?

- Million, in gold.

- Where is it?

- In the vault of
the Bank of Paris.

- Bank of Paris.

Such a big job, no, too
big for the two of us.

- Yes, but we can enlist the
support of your dear family.

- Yes.

Family.

Yes, but we would have
to give them a cut.

- A small percentage.

- No, not percentage.

Just the cut.

- All right, then it's agreed.

- Yes, but I still don't
see, if you return the loot,

how can you be sure you will
make the chief of police?

- Don't be a fool.

I won't return it
until I am sure.

- Monsieur, it was a pleasure.

Pity it's all been so dreadful.

- The pleasure's
been entirely mine.

Emile, saddle our horses.

I trust Your Excellency will
soon recover the jewels?

- If it were only the jewels.

But the dignity of my office!

Tomorrow, I shall be the
laughingstock of the whole country.

- Your Excellency has already
gone a long way toward

solving the case by
dismissing Monsieur Richet

and his theories.

- What?

Oh, yes, yes.

In emergencies I can
be absolutely ruthless.

But how to find his
successor, in this emergency?

- It shouldn't be
difficult to do better

than Monsieur Richet.

Even I can tell you where
he made his blunder.

- You can?

- The robbery wasn't committed
from inside your house,

but from the outside.

- Outside?

- Such an audacious crime
could never have been conceived

in the submissive
soul of a servant,

and everyone else in your
house was above suspicion.

- Naturally.

Very good observation, there.

- Well, I confess that
the art of detection

has long excited my interest.

I am what you might call a,
uh, a connoisseur of crime.

Of course, I can't
promise anything,

but if you'd like to
accompany me around the house,

we might find the clue
to prove my theory.

- The clue!

- Ah, what have we here?

Your Excellency, observe this
interesting strand of ivy.

- Hm, what, what's
interesting about it?

- It's broken.

- So it is.

However did you notice that?

- The merest matter of
trained observation,

indispensable to a detective.

- Oh, remarkable.

- Your Excellency, we
have our first clue.

- Really?

- I should say the housebreaker
has been acquainted

with long stretches
of hard labor,

stands approximately
six feet tall,

and weighs no less
than 200 pounds.

- In Heaven's name,
how can you tell?

- Elementary, my dear Loudon.

No less weight would
have been sufficient

to break that age-toughened ivy.

Now, the distance above the
ground to the first break

stipulates a leg span
of at least such height.

And only the most
extraordinary development

of the flexor and extensor
muscles of the upper arms,

such as is commonly
acquired in hard labor,

would have been equal to
that last daring climb

from where the trail of
the ivy ends to the balcony

by which the midnight
intruder entered your home.

- Remarkable.

- Doubtless there were
windows left open,

it was a sultry night.

Good morning,
Mademoiselle Therese.

- Hm?

Oh, you know my daughter?

- Good morning, Monsieur!

Therese, say something.

- The fourth time.

- Hm?

- That I've seen her and
she hasn't said a word.

Your Excellency is
to be congratulated.

The robber left untouched your
most priceless possession.

- What?

- Now let's see where he
went after he left the house.

- Yes, let's see.

Down the garden path
and out of the gate?

- Not so hasty.

He wouldn't have
chosen the path.

- Why not?

- It was loose gravel,
a man of his weight

would have sounded
like a cavalry charge.

- Yes, that's very true.

- I should rather say that
he made his soundless exit

across the lawn,
through those bushes.

- You really think so?

- I have a shrewd suspicion.

Ahh, we are fortunate indeed.

Another clue.

A lock of white hair.

- A sheep must have
blundered by here.

- The blunder would be
ours if we thought so.

Do your sheep normally
resort to cosmetics?

- Hm?

- These hairs have been
powdered and perfumed.

I'd say that they belong
to the wig of, um...

- My mother-in-law!

- Precisely.

- Monsieur Vidocq,
you're a genius.

- Thank you.

I shouldn't be surprised
if the jewels are hidden

not far from this spot.

- Here?

- Well, it stands to reason that

since the police were
covering all the roads,

the criminal plans to
return for his loot

after the hew and
cry has died down.

And now, Your Excellency, I
must be on my way to Paris.

- Oh, no, no, please, not yet!

- I trust that my clues
will be sufficient

for your future chief of
police to solve the case.

Good day.

- Wait, I'm not going
to deliver myself

to the hands of another Richet.

No more theories for me.

I need a man who
can give me results,

a practical man, like, like you.

- Your Excellency, I
hope you're not thinking

of making me your
chief of police.

Why not?

- Oh, well.

- My dear boy, you should
devote your talents

to the good of society.

- Odd.

- Why odd?

- Very odd.

- Hm?

- Please, Your Excellency,
observe these lilies.

Phenomenal.

They enjoy alike the
same sun and water,

and all of them
thrive except one,

which is strangely wilted,

as if its roots had
recently been disturbed.

Ah, yes.

Just as I thought.

In the annals of crime, I
predict this will be called

The Case of the Wilted Lily,
for unless I am mistaken,

this lily is at the
bottom of it all.

Or rather, I should say,

your jewels are at the
bottom of the lily.

- I swear they're all here.

Every stone and spangle.

Not a sparkler missing.

Thank Heaven, and
you, Monsieur Vidocq.

- Fortunately I could
return them this time.

However, I may not be able to

if they should be stolen again.

Again?

What do you advise?

- I would feel quite
sure of them if they were

in the vault at
the Bank of Paris.

Which reminds me that I must be

getting along to Paris myself.

Madame.

Monsieur.

Mademoiselle?

Therese.

Have you heard?

- Yes.

Isn't it a miracle?

I'm so happy, Grandmama.

I'm so happy.

- That was sound advice, Mother,

about putting your
jewels in the bank.

- Yes, I daresay.

After all, there are
few occasions left

for an old woman to parade
around in her sparklers.

- Oh, Grandmama.

- Loudon, I hope you knew how
to thank this Monsieur Vidocq.

- My dear mother, I made
him my chief of police.

- Brilliant!

There's the man for you.

And maybe there is also the
man for you, eh?

- The fates
were knitting busily.

Take Aunt Ernestine,
for example.

She who once helped me
to get out of jail is now

in jail herself, unaware that
kindness is always rewarded.

- Come on, sweetheart.

Monsieur Vidocq wants to
look at your pretty face.

- Keep your dirty
jokes to yourself.

What did you say?

- Vidocq, the new
chief of police.

Come on, precious, let's go now.

De Vernet, female.

- No.

I can't believe it.

- Believe it, and be
seated, Mademoiselle.

- You, chief of police?

I can't believe it.

- Thanks to you, I once
managed to escape from prison.

Now I am in the
fortunate position of

being able to return
your former kindness.

You are free.

- Free?

I still can't believe it.

- Furthermore, I
have a job for you.

- A job?

- I have a job for you to
do in the Bank of Paris.

- In the bank?

- Monsieur.

- Take my card to the manager.

- Our new chief of police.

Excuse me, please, I'm
going to see him myself.

Monsieur, I'm delighted.

- This is Lieutenant Emile
Vernet, my right hand-man.

Very experienced in the
ways of the underworld.

- Delighted, Lieutenant.

- I came to inquire
whether you were satisfied

with the individuals
I had recommended.

- Satisfied?

I'm delighted with them.

For example, the man
who works as teller.

- Ah, Monsieur Gabriel.

Delighted to see you.

- He has a microscopic eye.

He spots counterfeit
bills on sight.

Already this morning he's
spotted five of them.

He hasn't let a
single counterfeit

slip by him into the vault.

- We're glad to hear it.

- His Excellency and I
thought it was a wise measure

to plant only our
very finest detectives

as employees in the bank.

- Wonderful, Monsieur.

And here comes our night
watchman, reporting for work.

Earlier than ever.

- Ah, Monsieur Hugo.

- Good afternoon,
Monsieur Vidocq.

Good afternoon,
Lieutenant, good afternoon.

- I couldn't be
more delighted if

we had a ghost for
night watchman.

He haunts the bank.

And that female detective!

She takes her
disguise so seriously.

She cleans and scrubs all day.

Only this morning she
polished the lock of the vault

'til it shone like
a dazzling star.

- Good afternoon,
Mademoiselle Ernestine.

- Lieutenant, you
dropped something.

- The impression of the lock?

- In full, it's wax.

- I'm delighted with her.

But most marvelous of all is

the man you sent
to guard the vault.

- Ah, Monsieur Pierre.

He specializes in the
field of grand larceny.

- A human ferret.

He can sniff danger.

Even when I go into the vault
his nose is just behind me.

I wager he could smell if
one franc were missing.

- How many francs are in there?

- Oh, offhand, I'd say
about 40 or 50 million.

- 40, 50 million?

- So everything's
under control?

- No harm can come to us with
little Louis to guard us.

Quick as a magpie,
always running.

Now run off!

By the way, is the little
boy a detective too?

- Just an apprentice.

- Wonderful, wonderful.

You've made us feel
very safe indeed.

- Thank you for your confidence.

Good day.

- 50 million.

Ah, 50 million.

Deduct for family, divide...

I, I never could divide.

- Your share is 22 million.

22 million!

Oh, I'm rich.

I'm rich, I'm so rich
I could spit gold.

- Did you get the
wax impression?

- I can buy anything.

A castle, city.

I can buy the pyramids.

Buy them, why, I can build them,

and have every stone of gold.

- I must say, Aunt
Ernestine did a good job.

Try back at Cousin
Michelle's and

have her make the key
as fast as possible.

I'll walk back to the office.

- As fast as possible.

- I shall proceed
to tell what happened

in the meanwhile to Loretta,
who was a beautiful shadow

on a candlelit screen.

Little did I know that she
had given up her public

for a private life.

She had married for
richer then poorer,

for better, then worse,
'til death do them part,

the substantial Monsieur Richet.

- Loretta?

Loretta, my love.

- What is it?

- I've been thinking.

Don't you know about...

- What?

I know, about that garter.

Again.

- The case of the garter.

After all, my sweet, you
are married to a detective.

- I'm married to a jealous fool.

- Oh, I protest, my love.

I'm interested in
the garter, that is,

in the man who stole it,

from a purely professional
point of view.

But that tiny garter
may be the means of

recovering everything I've lost.

My post as chief of
police, my entire career,

for if I apprehend that
thief, His Excellency

would certainly admit that
I was right all along.

And believe me, he
will bow to my theory.

- Theories!

At this time of night.

- If my theory is right, he
is precisely the same man

who's committed a whole
chain of felonies,

and yet all the other
victims describe him as

young, dashing, Casanova-like.

The type that women
lose their heads over.

Aren't you listening, my angel?

Could it be that your
description of him

was not quite precise?

As you may recall, you
said that he was old, bald,

unattractive, eh?

- Precisely.

- Well, then.

Old or young, bald or not,
I still don't understand

how a man could steal a
woman's garter without,

I mean, without, uh...

- All right, have it your way.

It wasn't without, it was with.

- With what?

- With love and kisses.

Yours truly, Loretta.

- Aha!

What did you say?

Love and...

- And I, little was
I aware how soon

the shadow of my past was
to fall across my way.

It was the next morning, in
front of a little hat shop.

- Oh, my hat!

Oh, stop him, stop him!

My new hat!

My beautiful hat.

- Yes, it's really
dreadful about your hat.

How can I ever repay you for

captivating
Mademoiselle Loretta?

- That shouldn't be
hard for the taking,

Lieutenant Rousseau, with the
money he got from my garter.

- Wasn't much.

The rubies weren't as
good as you thought.

- And you were much worse
than I could have imagined.

Really, I, I should
call the police.

- Don't call them until
I've bought you another hat.

- Another...

Another hat?

Well I, I admit I am not so rich

that I can afford to
throw them in the gutter.

Hats don't grow on
trees, you know.

- I know, but some of
the latest fashions

look as if they did.

Oh my dear, you'd look simply
irresistible in that one.

And trimmed with violets.

- Oh, do you really think
I'd look well in violets?

I, I rather fancy that
big Florentine straw.

Then it's yours.

Isn't it beautiful?

- It
looks made for you.

- I'll take this one.

Monsieur will pay for it.

- Delighted.

How much?

A mere 80 francs.

- Ah, that's not too much
for a beautiful hat, is it?

- You look positively
ravishing in it.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

- It's large enough to
cover a multitude of sins.

Charming sins.

Thank you.

- Madame still owes
for the other hat.

- Oh, yes.

The one you made me drop.

- It's...

- Oh, that's only 35 francs.

There is still the matter
of your unpaid bill

for the past three
months, Madame.

- Oh.

- 420 francs, Monsieur.

Just a visiting card.

Madame.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

- I hope you will come
soon again, with Monsieur.

- May I see you to a cab?

- You may see me home in it.

- Cab?

- I must say, you commit
your crimes a la mode.

- Rather like old
times, isn't it?

- Except I'm married.

- Oh, I'm so happy.

- Unhappily.

- What?

- Married.

- I'm so sorry.

- Oh, it's all right.

All the more reason
we should meet again.

- I see.

Sometimes the chains of
matrimony are so heavy

that they have to
be carried by three.

- Do you speak from experience?

Or from observation?

- Observation.

It has saved me
from the experience.

- Please.

Listen, seriously.

For the past two years
I've not been able to put

a certain Lieutenant
Rousseau out of my mind.

I believe I'm in love with him.

- In that case, Madame,
you are in love with a man

who no longer exists.

He's as dead as the past.

- I disagree, Monsieur.

The past is very much alive.

As alive as I am.

I... I hate...

Really hate bringing
up the delicate matter

of the garter again, but...

I happen to know the
minister of police

has offered a reward for...

- Oh, for those paltry rubies?

- Oh, no.

No, nothing so trifling.

For the man who's
committed a whole chain

of similar crimes during
the last two years.

- Are you planning to
collect the reward?

- Oh, let's not
talk about money.

It's friendship I
need, Lieutenant.

Why, I, I almost forgot.

The lieutenant is dead.

Just to be sure we don't lose
track of each other again,

I'd better know your name.

Your present one.

- I've had so many
names, I'm afraid I

don't remember the
most recent one.

- Perhaps you'll
refresh your memory by

consulting the visiting
card in your wallet.

- Dear lady, after our
visit to the hat shop,

my wallet is empty.

- Is that all we
mean to each other?

An empty wallet?

Oh, oh, home already.

- Well, goodbye.

- Such a cold goodbye
for an old flame.

See, last time we
parted, you were,

you weren't so easily satisfied.

- Goodbye.

- Thank you, Monsieur.

Hope there's nothing
missing this time.

Eugene Francois Vidocq.

- Vidocq!

You promised to come
back in an hour.

It's over two hours.

- I am late only because you
refused me money for a cab.

And I had to walk.

- My darling, until
I'm working again,

it's only fair to
make a few sacrifices.

What!

You bought another hat?

- What other pleasure
do I have except hats?

Isn't it beautiful?

- You've bought enough hats!

Look, look!

Three, six, 12, 20!

You could open up a
hat shop yourself!

- I don't have any more hats
than you have silly disguises.

Look!

Three, six, 12, 20 wigs,

and at least a dozen
of these silly beards!

- But you don't understand!

They're the tools of
a detective's trade.

- You are not a
detective any more.

- That's beside the point!

Once before, I told you...

- I know, dear.

That's why the
gentleman paid for it.

- Paid?

For what?

- My hat.

- A gentleman?

Who?

- Believe it or not, he
didn't give his name.

On my honor.

- On your what?

- Honor!

- Once before, you were
off with a strange man

who didn't give his name.

- It's not the same man.

- Aha!

You deny it.

Then it is true.

He's here, in Paris,
you're seeing him again.

He steals your garter,
you take his hat,

the whole thing is
perfectly obvious!

How can a woman stoop so low!

- Oh!

You're like the horse!

My beautiful Florentine straw!

Let go!

- You, you Cleopatra!

You Messalina!

- Oh, the second hat today!

Oh, this is too much!

- I'll catch this criminal
who steals garters,

and wives, even though
I have been discharged,

I'll prove I can still
be more useful than this,

this Monsieur Vidocq!

- Vidocq?

- Yes, the chief of
police, my successor.

- Your successor?

- What's so funny about that?

- Your successor!

- Carry the one to make ten...

Oh, it's you.

- What are you doing in the
office at this late hour?

- I'm figuring.

- Still building your pyramid?

- Look.

I've found a way to keep from
dividing any with my family.

Here, first we cut
out Aunt Ernestine.

She isn't entitled to a penny

while last week we
saved her from jail,

that's enough,
she'll be grateful.

Next, we cut out Uncle Hugo too.

- Are you counting on
your paper or your knife

to cut his percentage?

- What does it matter?

We're in business.

- Nothing matters now
except to move quickly,

or your pyramid
will go up in smoke.

Do you remember the
lady of the garter?

You've seen her?

Is she in Paris?

- Yes.

Our past is catching up with us.

We'll have to crack the
vault tomorrow, no later.

- Yes, yes, tomorrow,
everything is ready.

- And the key?

- Made.

- Then pass the
word to your family.

Tomorrow night none
of us will sleep,

so you'd better sleep now.

Goodnight, and golden dreams.

Surprised?

- Women always surprise
us by doing the expected.

I suppose you've come
to return my wallet.

- Oh, that.

Here it is, Monsieur Vidocq.

- Thank you.

- Where did you ever
dig up that name?

- In a cemetery.

- For once I believe you.

Don't worry, your elegant
visiting cards are all there.

- But apparently not my money.

- Oh, I forgot, I had to keep
it in order to buy a new hat.

- Another hat?

- The last one went
the way of the first.

- You mean a horse
stepped on it?

- My husband.

Your predecessor.

- My predecessor?

- Yes.

I, I mean of course,
in this chair.

- Madame, you please
to be mysterious.

Oh, I am no mystery.

I am Madame Richet.

- Madame...

- Richet.

At least no one can reproach
me for not being faithful

to the police force.

- Does he suspect?

- A detective is
always suspicious.

He suspects me of having worn
my garter a little loosely.

But he doesn't know
yet that I lost it

to a certain Monsieur Vidocq.

- There's no fool so dangerous
as a fool with brains.

- Except a woman so
foolish as to fall in love.

Time has made you
even more intriguing.

- Madame, I...

- Surely you are considerate
enough to realize

no woman could ever forget
you, or give you up.

- Of course, but this is
hardly the moment or the place.

- Then meet me at the
hat shop this evening.

- This evening?

- At six.

Au revoir, Monsieur.

- Good morning, Monsieur.

- Madame le Marquise, this
is an unexpected pleasure.

- We're just on our way
to see my son-in-law,

Monsieur Loudon, and thought
we'd freshen our acquaintance

by smiling in at you.

Therese, Mimi, you
know Monsieur Vidocq.

- Yes, we do.

- Your voice is as lovely as
you are, Mademoiselle Therese.

What fortunate chance brings
you up from the country?

- My jewels, Monsieur.

I'm taking your sound advice to

put them in the Bank of Paris.

- I have some rather important
business there myself.

May I escort you?

- Well, then you can
do me a real favor

by taking the girls in my place.

Meanwhile, I'll acquaint
your father with our arrival,

and...

- But Grandmama, you
could do both, if...

- Ifs and ands you'll
make pots and pans,

do as you're told, girl!

And keep a sharp
eye on my sparklers.

Monsieur, I trust you with
my most valuable possessions.

Well, I'll be off.

No, no, no, don't trouble.

I know my way.

- Madame.

We start immediately.

Emile, order my carriage.

I'm going to deposit
these young ladies

and their jewels at the bank.

- Yes, jewels at the bank.

The Chief pulled a smart trick.

Now when we pry into the
vault, we'll get all the gold,

and a heap of jewels
for good measure.

Everything's ready?

- I've got enough wine-barrels

to roll out 100 million francs.

- 10 o'clock tonight.

- May I?

- If you don't mind, I'd like to

take this to the vault myself.

- As you wish, Mademoiselle.

Please, this way.

Thanks to Monsieur
Vidocq, the Bank of Paris

is the safest
place in the world.

And now if you will permit,

we'll put your strongbox
under lock and key.

- Therese, hurry.

- Hey, psst, come here!

You would depend on the wagons?

- My dear nephew, you know
the driver is my sweetheart.

- 10 o'clock tonight.

Is the part ready?

- Soon as we are.

- It's no joke.

- May I escort you home,
Mademoiselle Therese?

- But Therese, you promised!

- But, Mimi...

- You gave me your word the
next time we came into Paris

you'd take me to the
Chinese carousel.

All week I've been planning
to ride the big goldfish.

Or should I treat the Pekingese?

- Well...

If Mr. Vidocq doesn't mind,

perhaps we could
stop at the carousel.

- It would be a pleasure,
Mademoiselle Mimi.

- Thank you very
much, Monsieur Vidocq.

Come on, Therese, let's hurry.

- Do you have a key?

I won't need you any
more until ten tonight.

- What time do we meet?

- Ten.

- Ten.

- Shall we walk?

I haven't told your father yet,

but tomorrow I shall be
saying goodbye to Paris.

- Goodbye?

- I'm afraid so.

As you know, I only
became chief of police

to help your father out
of a temporary difficulty.

- Oh, but Papa
needs you, Monsieur.

He needs you more than ever now.

And Grandmama, she'll miss you,

and Mimi will miss you, and...

- And you?

- I shall miss you, too.

I shall miss you very much.

- You are very
generous, Mademoiselle.

But I shall have to
appear ungrateful.

There are important
matters that will

take me away from France.

- Is the dragon going with you?

- Dragon?

- Yes.

Well, your lieutenant.

- Oh, Emile, yes.

- He is?

- Why do you call
him the dragon?

- Because...

Every time I see his evil face,

I think of the painting
in our little church.

The painting of Saint
George and the dragon.

- What are you talking about?

- Let's not pretend.

I know everything.

How you rode off with the
armor of Saint George,

and the lance,
and even the halo.

- Merciful heavens!

However did you learn that?

- I guessed it, from
what the priest told me.

But don't worry, your
secret is safe with me.

I didn't even tell Papa when you

borrowed Grandmama's jewels.

- Borrowed?

So you know that, too?

- Yes, but...

The one thing I really want to
know, Monsieur, I don't know.

- Well, perhaps I can help you.

- Oh, if you only would!

You see...

Some nights ago, I dreamt
a man came into my room,

and kissed me.

- Oh, really?

I trust it was a pleasant dream.

- Very pleasant, but...

- Well, what more
do you want to know?

- If it was just a dream, or...

- Or?

- Or you.

- Ah, now I understand
your problem.

Well, let's examine the facts.

I take it that the intruder was

too expert to leave any clues.

- None.

- Except for the
kiss, of course.

- Oh yes.

Of course.

- You should be able to
tell from another kiss

whether I am the
man of your dreams.

Was it like this?

- No.

This is different from
anything I ever dreamt.

- My dear Therese, I am afraid
we will have to wake up.

- Why?

- Unfortunately there's
the matter of my past,

which has just reappeared in
the shape of a lovely lady.

- A lady you love?

- Not the lady I love.

- Then nothing
stands in our way.

- Only she and some others

may not be too pleased
to learn about dreams.

And your father, instead of
signing our marriage contract,

would have to sign a
warrant for my arrest.

That's why I have to
leave Paris tomorrow.

- I understand.

- I have no choice.

- Neither have I.

I'm going with you.

If I can't be
respectable, I'll be bad.

I could help you.

I'd have made a much
better lieutenant

than the clumsy man
you have with you now.

I could sneak in and
out of rooms like a cat,

I could be very
useful, I could...

I could make men
fall in love with me.

- Good heavens, why should you?

- Between kisses, you know
I could steal their wallets.

- Steal?

- Yes!

You don't believe me?

I have started already, here.

Grandmama's jewels.

I took them out of her strongbox
and nobody even noticed it.

- Why, that's wonderful!

- Yes.

- I mean...

Disgraceful.

- Why?

I stole them for you.

- Thank you.

But you don't expect
me to marry a thief.

- What can I do?

If you won't come
over to my side,

I'll have to go over to yours.

- Darling, I promise you
whichever side you're on,

we'll be there together.

You promise?

- On one condition.

What?

- That you return these
jewels immediately.

- Why should I?

They're not Grandmama's,
they're mine.

- What?

- I've just made it up.

- You...

You little hypocrite.

Therese!

- Yes?

- Therese, come and ride!

You'll love it!

- Would you like to?

- Yes.

Which shall we take, the
griffon or the goldfish?

- Are these the
biggest you have?

- And the most
expensive, Madame.

But I don't suppose there's
any need to discuss the price

until your gentleman
acquaintance arrives.

No.

Show me some others.

- Yes, Madame.

- Until he comes.

- Ah, Madame, how do
you like this one?

Isn't it a stunning hat?

Even your husband will adore it.

- Ah, my
husband is so suspicious.

So jealous.

- What does that matter,
if Monsieur likes the hat?

- You are very lovely, Therese.

- Am I as lovely
as the other lady?

- In her eyes I
see myself as I am.

But in yours, I see
myself as I could be.

As I hope to be.

- Oh, 7 o'clock.

I shall make Monsieur
pay for being so late.

- Ah, Madame, it's
worth your waiting!

Just come upstairs and
I'll show you what I mean.

Don't worry, your
gentleman acquaintance

will see the lights and
find the door unlatched.

You'll see, it's
modeled on a top hat

worn by Beau Brummell
'til a certain countess

appeared in it to
prove to the world

that Mr. Brummell was her beau.

- Looking for somebody?

- Eh, no.

Eh, yes.

A lady's in there.

- A lady?

You're a little old for
something like that.

Come on, this isn't a peep show.

- A citizen has some rights!

- So pay taxes,
and pay the police!

Come on!

- I protest!

I have a right to be here!

- So you've a right.

I'll give you a right.

And that was a left,
I'll give you both sides.

- In the face of illogical
brutality, I withdraw.

- And don't you come
back, you peeping tom!

- Mmmm.

- It's the absolute
rage in London.

It's just the thing
for your Roman profile.

- Well, I, I love the hat.

But do you think the dress
is, um, revealing enough?

- Well, this blouse
is a little shy,

but I have another that's
more than just revealing.

It's a revelation.

- Oh!

- Will you excuse me while I
fetch it from the stockroom.

You can be trying this on.

- Oh, oh, the hat is a dream.

- Oh,
it's the last word!

- Looking back on
the phantasmagoria of my life,

I've often wondered
what would have happened

had I been in time for my
appointment with the past.

Of course, Richet
was only a fool,

but a fool is always dangerous.

And above all, a jealous
fool who had set his trap

to catch a shadow.

- Is that you, sweetie?

You're late.

I'm afraid I'll have to run

or else my husband will
be asking questions.

Who are you?

- It's me, me!

Your husband!

- You!

What do you mean,
trying to frighten me

with one of your
silly disguises!

Is the great detective
trying to be funny, or...

Or have you really
taken up peddling?

Hm, not a bad idea.

Perhaps you'd like me to
accompany you on the streets

with a harp doing "Throw
me a penny, I am sick,

"and my husband's a lunatic. "

- So.

You're expecting
your, your sweetie.

And who is he?

That scoundrel of a Casanova?

That same criminal
who stole your garter,

and now is stealing you from me?

But I won't tolerate it!

I won't!

Quiet, quiet!

- Darling, you're
not frightening me,

but you are frightening
those poor little birds.

And now, excuse me.

I'm tired.

Of you.

- Loretta, Loretta!

You can't do this to me!

I, I love you!

I'd rather put an end to myself!

- And to my misery.

- It would suit you to
get me out of the way.

- Precisely.

- Loretta, I've got to
have you, I'm serious!

I'm going to shoot myself,
I'm going to shoot him,

this thief, I'm
going to shoot...

- Loretta?

Loretta!

Loretta!

I didn't mean it,
I didn't mean it.

You're joking, you're
joking, aren't you?

You're joking.

No.

No, no, no.

Shhh.

Quiet, quiet, quiet.

Stop.

- I'm sorry.

- I didn't mean to.

I loved her.

Oh.

It's you.

You've come for me.

So soon.

I lost track of...

I lost my wife.

She was so young
and beautiful and...

But I suppose that
doesn't matter now.

You can take me away.

I won't give you trouble.

I did it.

Promise me one thing.

That man I've been
pursuing for years.

He's the real criminal.

You've got to find him.

I failed, but you won't.

Promise me you'll
put an end to him.

- I have already
put an end to him.

- You have?

Ahh, you're a great detective.

Greater than I ever was.

- There was one more appointment

that I had to keep this night.

At the Bank of Paris,
where Emile and his family

were waiting for me.

- You're late.

We've all been waiting for you.

- We couldn't do
anything until you came.

- The vault has to get
underway in half an hour.

Where's the key to the vault?

- Here it is.

I have no use for it.

- What do you mean?

- No use?

- Ow!

- You may do what you wish,
I'll have no part in it.

I relinquish my share.

- It's all mine.

And I get yours and mine too.

- Why ours?

Why his?

- I suggest that
you destroy the key,

remove the barrels, and leave
the bank as you found it.

- Now if you feel inclined
to follow my suggestion,

I promise you that you
will all be kept on

in the jobs that
you've filled so well.

But if you ignore it, I warn you

that as chief of
police of France,

I will track you down
to the ends of the earth

if necessary,
recover the treasure,

and bring you all to justice.

Now.

Make your decision.

Good heavens!

I shall be late to dinner
with my future father-in-law,

His Excellency the
minister of police.

- Did you hear what he said
about his father-in-law?

- Being His Excellency,
the minister of police?

- What can we do?

- Huh?

- Oh, yes, that.

Well, I can't deny I've gotten
used to my job at the bank.

- Washing floors is
better than being in jail.

- The manager of the bank
offered me a promotion yesterday.

Promotion, yes, yes.

Emile brought that man to us.

Emile, what do you advise?

Emile?

Where is he?

- He's gone.

- Gone?

- What is it?

- It's that girl.

You think she's worth
50 million francs?

- Much
more than that.

- Not to me.

I want my share.

Nobody can stand between
me and 50 million.

- Still building your pyramid?

Perhaps I should acquaint
you with the fact

that those pyramids became
their builders' tombs.

- Not my tomb.

But yours!

- And thus I killed what was
left of the dragon in me.

The rest of my life
belongs to history.

As the world knows, I
confessed my scandalous career

to His Excellency, who for
the love of his daughter

forgave and pardoned me.

- On one condition, my dear boy.

That you recompense the many
ladies whose, uh, treasures

you have pilfered,
and, where possible,

give back what you have taken.

- But with pleasure,
Your Excellency.

- Call me Papa, dear boy.

Papa.

- Oh, thank you, Papa.

And I also asked for forgiveness
of Madame le Marquise,

which was generously conceded.

- Oh, lark.

All men are criminals
in the light of reason.

One steals our hearts,
the other our jewels.

Fortunately, my dear boy,
you were as skillful at one

as at the other.

But in future, I
hope you will...

Behave, Satan!

Uhhh, what was I saying?

- Behave, Satan.

- Exactly.

- I even confessed to little
Mimi, who took it very lightly.

- I knew it from
the very beginning.

- Knew what?

- That no man is a saint.

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