- A rather unusual advertisement
offering the position of governess
to a young woman of independence had drawn me
to a Mr. Jonathan Fredricks of Harley Street, London.
Having won his interest by my admittedly bold reply,
I had been invited to his offices
where we were to discuss my qualifications.
It proved to be a meeting I should well
have avoided had I known of the bizarre and dreadful substance
of that which lay before me.
- Mr. Fredricks will see you now.
- So you are Jane Cubberly?
- Yes, sir.
- Turn around.
Open your mouth. - Sir?
- Teeth reveal character.
A pretty face is no gauge of worth.
Open your mouth, girl.
You are a pretty thing.
You may sit down, Miss Cubberly.
Well, now, how do you like London?
- I love it.
- Splendid, as do I. Yet, for the greater
part of the year I'm forced to conduct my business here
I seldom visit the country.
- Well, that's unfortunate.
I'm sure the children must miss you.
- Not at all.
They never took to me, nor I to them.
When their parents died in the Sudan,
I assumed legal responsibility for their upbringing.
As their uncle, my concern with the pair of them
is solely one of duty to my dead brother.
I find them very heavily on my hands.
I have not a grain of patience with young children
who are little more than a menace to one's peace of mind.
- How dreadful.
How absolutely dreadful.
- Sit down, girl.
So, you think me harsh?
Well, I do not require the affections of those I
hire, merely their talents.
I seek an individual who can assume full control
at Bly house, a person of total self -sufficiency
and of moral courage.
From your letters and from what I have observed thus far,
you seem to possess these qualities.
Your references are quite in order.
Therefore, in consideration of the sum mentioned
in our correspondence, you may consider yourself in my employ.
- But how shall we be in touch? - We shall not.
I am about to undertake an extended business tour
and shall henceforth be unavailable.
- Yet, if I should require--
- Whatever you shall require in terms of monies
will be handled through my solicitor.
You must deal with all matters of whatever nature
involving the children and without recourse to me.
I do not wish to be troubled.
Is that understood?
- I shall manage quite nicely and you will not
find yourself troubled.
- Then we are in clear agreement.
Good day, Miss Cubberly.
- Good day, Mr. Fredricks.
- And do you still find me dreadful?
- Indeed, sir, in all truth, I do.
And thus it was that I found myself
of a beautiful afternoon on the final leg of a pleasant journey
to the countryside of Essex.
I was to be in direct charge of a household which included
Mrs. Grose, housekeeper and cook at Bly and two orphan children,
Flora aged nine and Miles who was newly 14.
How beautiful.
- What's that, miss?
- Oh, the country.
London's all fog and dark.
- Are you from there, miss?
- Oh, goodness, no, I'm country born and bred.
I came to London to apply for a position.
I couldn't wait to leave.
- Well, you're sure to like Bly, then, miss.
Gardens, big trees all around.
It's an open kind of house--
lets the sun in.
- That's very reassuring.
The way Mr. Fredricks described it in this letter,
Bly sounded rather gloomy, all those closed off rooms.
- There's no use for them, you see, miss.
Me and my boy, Tim, well, we live
above the stables and the main house
is just the children and Mrs. Grose and since - -
- Since what?
- Since Miss Jessel went away, miss--
the governess before you.
- Yes, I know little of her.
Mr. Fredrick said she was taken ill, but he didn't elaborate.
Why did she? Leave
- Oh, it's not my business to say, miss,
I'd be uh, speaking out of turn.
- Really?
Well, can't you tell me anything about her?
Was she attractive?
- Quite that, miss.
- And young?
- Oh, young enough to please him, miss--
Mr. Fredricks, I mean.
- Well, did she get on with the children?
- Oh, well enough, especially with Miss Flora.
- I'm naturally curious as to the nature of her illness.
Was it quite serious?
- Serious?
Yes.
Miss Jessel is dead, miss, and begging your pardon,
I'll say no more about her.
Well, there's Bly now, miss.
- Upon arrival, I find that my melancholy
expectations of Bly House are quite unfounded.
The house itself was most imposing and my reception
was both warm and heartfelt.
LUKE: Whoa, now.
- Welcome to Bly, miss.
I'm Mrs. Grose, and this one, bless her, is Miss Flora.
- You're very pretty.
- I'll take your trunk upstairs, miss.
It'll be in your room when you want it.
- Oh thank you, Luke.
You've been very kind. LUKE: Yes, ma'am.
- You're very pretty, you know.
I hope we shall be friends.
- Oh thank you, Flora, I'm sure we will.
- You'll find her a little angel, miss,
there's no other word to it.
BOTH: - Nonsense.
On rainy days, I'm quite wicked. - Oh.
- Well, then I shall see to it that the sun never still
shining.
Where's young Master Miles?
- Oh, he'll be home tomorrow, miss.
- From school, for the holidays.
Come with me, Miss Cubberly.
I so want to show you all of Bly House.
MRS. GROSE:
- This is the drawing room.
And this is the library.
- My, what a grand house.
- Upstairs is best.
That's where we play all day, miss.
- Oh, what do you play?
- Oh, hide and seek and riddle games.
But special best is playing pretend with Miles.
He's so good at it.
- You'll find them very bright, miss.
I warrant they'll surprise you.
- What do you pretend to be?
- Oh, grown up people like...
JANE: Like who?
- Why, like our dear Mrs. Grose, of course.
BOTH:
Come, I still want to show you the upstairs.
Isn't this a grand staircase, Miss Cubberly?
- Yes.
- And this is our room.
This is where I sleep and this is where you sleep.
We will be together each and every night.
- I hope you'll be comfortable here, miss.
- Oh, it's a lovely room. It's lovely.
The grounds are delightful.
MRS. GROSE: Oh, Luke keeps them up.
They're his pride.
- He seems a fine man.
- He's horrid!
- For shame, Flora.
- He won't let Miles play with Timothy.
He makes him stay away.
- Never you mind that.
I'm sure he has his reasons, and it's not for you to judge.
- Who's that boy down there, riding on the horse?
- Oh, that'll be Timothy, Luke's son.
- Oh, what kind of boy is he?
- Oh, quiet, doesn't say much.
Keeps to himself.
But I'm sure you're anxious to see your school room, miss.
Flora, show Miss Cubberly the way.
- We'll play explorer.
I'm the brave guide and you're lost
in the dark in an awful jungle.
Shut your eyes and I'll lead you.
-
- No peeking, mind.
If you peek, a lion will eat you, hair, toes, and all.
- Well, I wouldn't want that to happen.
- We've arrived safely.
You may open your eyes now.
- Oh, thank you, Flora.
Oh, well, it's most complete.
- She insisted on having it this way.
- She?
- The one before you, miss.
- She means poor Miss Jessel.
We're not meant to talk about her.
Look, there's Blue Boy.
Luke is exercising him.
What a splendid animal.
- What did Flora mean that she's not to speak of Miss Jessel?
- Oh, it's just that Miss Jessel's gone and you're here
now, uh...
past things are past, miss.
- Come, hurry, hurry.
So much more to see.
And this time, you may keep your eyes open.
JANE: Well, what about the lions?
- Oh, I shot them all.
We're quite safe now.
- Oh, go on with you, Miss Flora.
I'm sure Miss Cubberly doesn't want
to go traipsing around all over this big house.
She'll need to be resting after her trip.
- No, on the contrary, I feel quite stimulated.
I'd like to see all that's to be seen.
- I shall show her the parapet.
- Oh, well, then I shall leave you both to it.
I've got work enough to do downstairs.
Dinner's at 8 o'clock.
We're so happy to have you with us, miss.
May the good Lord bless and keep you.
- Oh, thank you, Mrs. Grose, I'm happy to be here.
- Miles and I simply adore the parapet.
We play knight and lady here.
He saves me from the fire dragon.
JANE: It seems very high up, aren't you afraid?
- Not at all.
I am not afraid of anything.
- How remarkable.
- Sunsets are often quite lovely from here.
You can see ever so far. - 'Tis lovely.
Quite dangerous, though.
- Oh, it's not--
It's not dangerous, not if you know how to keep your balance.
Look, I can even stand on one leg.
- Flora!
Oh, now you promise me you'll never, never do that again.
- I promise.
But isn't the view breathtaking?
Who is that man?
- What man?
- There's was a man standing there a moment ago,
by the clock tower.
He was staring up at me.
- I saw no one, miss.
- It seems Mrs. Grose was quite right, I'm fatigued.
I'll have a rest before dinner.
- Of course, Miss Cubberly, dear lady.
I see I have exhausted you this nasty climb.
I've been very naughty, I've done wrong.
- Oh, Flora, you've done nothing wrong, nothing at all.
The post bag that second morning at Bly
contained a letter addressed to me.
Inside, I found a note from Mr. Frederick's solicitor
declaring that he had received the enclosed envelope, which
remained sealed, from the headmaster of Miles' school,
and that I should deal with it, whatever the contents.
Breaking the seal, I read the news
that Miles had been dismissed and would not
be allowed to return.
I was shocked and bewildered.
- Good morning, miss.
- Oh, Mrs. Grose, I think you should see this.
- Oh, I haven't got my glasses, miss,
and I really can't read properly without them.
- Well, I can tell you what it says,
yet I cannot for the life of me comprehend it.
- Yes, miss?
- The school has dismissed Master Miles
and he's not to be reinstated.
- But what has the boy done?
- Well, they go into no particulars,
yet they declare him an injury to the others.
- Master Miles?
An injury?
JANE: Yes, no violation is specified,
but the charge is clear,
- Why, it's dreadful to say such a cruel thing.
See him first, miss, and then believe it if you can.
- Have you never known him to be bad?
MRS. GROSE: Oh, never, miss, I don't pretend that.
- Then he has been?
- Yes, miss.
But then, a boy who never is is no boy to me.
On occasion, I've known him behave badly.
- But not to a degree?
To contaminate, to corrupt?
- Oh my, no.
You aren't afraid he'll corrupt you, are you, miss?
BOTH: FLORA: He's coming!
I saw the carriage!
Miles is coming!
He's coming!
- Oh, then we must hasten to him.
FLORA: Oh, dear, dear Miles.
- Oh, Flora. And good Mrs. Grose.
- Welcome home, Master Miles, we've all missed you so.
And this is Miss Cubberly, down from London,
your new governess.
- My, you're a fine looking young gentleman.
- And you're a fine looking young lady.
- Isn't she, though?
And she's good at games, we've already played lots of them.
- Indeed, as I'm sure we shall all
function splendidly together.
- Shall we go in?
- Come on, Flora.
- Well, miss?
Was I right about the young gentlemen?
- Oh, yes. It's grotesque.
- And the cruel charge?
- It's preposterous.
- Then how are you to answer?
What are you to tell Mr. Fredricks?
- Well, I shall tell him nothing for the present.
- But what about the boy's schooling?
- Well, he's on holiday now.
No, I'll wait for Miles to speak on the subject,
as I'm sure he shall.
On the evening of the day
of Master Miles' return to Bly House, a rather odd incident
occurred.
I had gone to the terrace need of solitude.
The sky was spangled with stars and the sweet scents
of the garden permeated the night around me.
It was as if time had stopped, the world was held fast
in this frozen moment.
No evil could disturb it, no events distort it.
Then faintly, I heard a voice from the garden.
I recognized it as the voice of young Master Miles.
MILES: I'm so glad to be back again.
Missed you so much, not being with you.
Now i;m back, I feel much happier.
So glad you're back.
Miss Cubberly!
You quite startled me.
JANE: Well, I heard you talking to someone.
Is Flora here with you?
- Well no, miss, I'm quite alone.
- Well, but there was someone here, I heard them.
- You promise not to think me strange?
- Yes, of course I promise?
Now, who was here?
- My friends.
They're still here.
They never leave.
- But we're alone, Miles.
- Oh no, not really.
They're all around us--
the trees, the bushes, the grass, all of them
are parts of us, Miss Cubberly, right now, here in the night.
They're alive, you know?
They even hear you when you speak to them.
They may not understand your words, but they hear you.
- Then you were talking to the trees?
- Yes.
And you do think me strange, don't you?
Just as I knew you would.
- No, on the contrary, I think it's quite charming that you
care about nature so intensely.
I must confess, I've always wanted
to believe that all things in nature
are receptive to communication.
It's simply that you're just a bit bolder than I.
- Miss Cubberly?
JANE: Yes?
- Will you promise not to speak of this to Mrs. Grose?
She'd think me awfully strange.
- You have my word.
Now come on, off to bed.
You've had a very active day.
- Miss Cubberly.
- What are you doing awake?
You're meant to be fast asleep.
- I just couldn't sleep.
- Oh, why not?
- Because I'm so excited that you're here, and I do
like you so very much.
- Thank you, Flora, and I like you very much, too.
- Miles told me he thinks you're splendid.
- Did he?
That was very complimentary.
- Oh yes, Miles is so very gallant,
and the dear boy does have such a way with the ladies.
- Oh, does he, now?
Well then I shall have to watch out for young Master Miles,
won't I?
Go on now, you go back to sleep.
Night, night.
- Yes, miss.
- Well miss, now you've had a chance to meet the young ones,
what do you think of them?
- They're delightful.
Young Miles, he's a sensitive boy.
- I can see they've both quite taken to you, too, miss.
JANE: Really? - Uh-huh.
- I so want them to like me, accept me.
This is my first important position
and I intend to do everything in my power to make it a success.
- Your parents must be proud.
- Well, my mother died when I was very young,
so I barely remember her.
She's more dream than reality.
I have an older brother.
- But your father?
- Well, we were very poor, and he was a parson.
He was rather a strict father, bit of a temper,
so we learned to keep out of his way.
I barely knew him.
- How sad.
JANE: No.
Do you know, in a way, I'm almost
grateful for my childhood, for it now
enables me better to understand poor Miles and little Flora.
- Oh my goodness me!
My cakes, they'll likely be burned black by now.
Excuse me, miss.
- Yes, of course.
- Is anything wrong, miss?
- Moments ago at this window there was a man staring in.
- You mean Luke, miss? Why, he--
- No, no, not him.
Another.
- But who could it be, miss?
- He was a horror, that's what he was.
I can still see his face as clearly as I see your own.
- It could have been someone from the village - -
a tradesman, perhaps.
- No.
No, his eyes moved as if he knew this room.
- And what of his appearance?
- Well, he's a tall man dressed in black.
I saw him once before during my first day at Bly,
from the parapet.
The same man.
He has dark hair, pale, cruel face, wide mouth,
and his eyes are sharp, strange, and so penetrating.
- Peter Quint.
JANE: What did you say?
- Peter Quint.
The description you give could quite well fit him.
- You seem amazed.
- Well, I am, miss, because it couldn't be Quint.
- Well, why not?
Who is this Quint?
- The master never spoke of him?
JANE: Not a word.
- Well, he - - he was hired as the master's own man, his valet.
When Mr. Frederick was here some time ago, that was.
Quint was put in charge when the master went away again.
- In charge?
Above Miss Jessel?
- Oh, she came soon after to rule the children.
But him, he ruled the house.
- Was he dismissed?
- No, miss, not dismissed.
- What, then?
- Quint-- he died, miss.
JANE: Mrs. Grose could not
accept the fact that I had truly seen Peter Quint.
And in fact, I could not blame the poor woman.
She attributed the visitation to my having perhaps
heard of him from the children and put it down
to an overactive imagination.
But that night, as I lay in my bed, sleep eluded me.
And when I finally closed my eyes,
his pale visage visited me afresh.
I could arrive at no account whatever of the spectral person
with whom I had been so inexplicably
and yet, as it seemed to me, so intimately concerned.
Why?
Why had the creature appeared to me?
MRS. GROSE: Who's there?
- It's me, Jane Cubberly.
I'm sorry for this late intrusion,
but I felt the need to talk to you.
Do you mind?
I must ask you some questions, and I
pray you'll be frank and open.
- I'll do my best, miss.
- How close was Peter Quint to the boy?
- But why is it important?
Why do you want to know?
- Now please, Mrs. Grose, I have my reasons.
- All right, miss.
Quint and Master Miles, they were always together.
- What did they do?
- Oh, all manner of things.
I think it would be safe to say that Miles
was fascinated by Quint.
Sometimes he'd sit for hours just listening to him
play the piano. - The piano?
A man like Quint?
- Yes, miss, I know it seems strange,
but Quint was a master at it.
- Were they, then, great friends?
- Oh, not friends, exactly.
It was Quint's doing, his fancy to play with the boy - -
I mean to spoil him.
Quint was much too free.
- With Miles?
- Too free with everyone, that man was.
A devil, if you must know the whole of it.
He drank, caroused, took liberties.
- And you never complained to the master?
- Oh, he doesn't like complaints, miss.
He's very short with anything of that nature.
- Yes, I gathered as much at our meeting.
- I daresay I was wrong in not going to him, but I was afraid.
- Of what?
MRS. GROSE: Of Quint, of what he might do.
The man was so clever, so deep.
- But you must have realized what his effect would be.
- Effect, miss?
- On innocent lives, on young Master Miles.
- Oh, I was so afraid, I didn't dare speak out.
And then when Quint died, there was no need.
- How did he die, Mrs. Grose?
- Last winter, it was, with ice on the ground and windy.
They found him on the road from the village.
Quint was a hard drinking man, you see,
and he'd been imbibing heavily at the public house.
That night on the road, in the wind, he was none too steady
on foot.
It seems he fell in the dark, on the ice.
- And the fall killed him?
- Yes, miss.
That's how they say he died.
- There, that's your problem for tomorrow.
Is that quite clear to both of you?
All right, then you work it out this afternoon
and we'll review it at tomorrow's lesson.
MILES: How about now, Miss Hubberley,
if I have the correct answer?
- Well, you haven't had time.
- Ah, 4016, isn't that right?
FLORA: Hooray for Miles!
Sorry, miss.
- Now, we're going to identify the principal cities of Italy.
What have you got in your desk, Miles?
- Only a frog, my dear.
JANE: Bring it here.
It's eyes-- what have you done it's eyes?
- Well, I've blinded it, my dear.
- Miles!
- Well, you shouldn't feel badly, miss.
The world is so full of ugly sights--
this creature has been spared them.
- You take this outside this instant,
and relieve the poor thing of its misery, then you bury it.
- Very well, miss, whatever you think is best.
- And I don't want you ever to repeat this action.
- Are the lessons over today, miss?
May I go, too?
I should so like to watch Miles bury his frog.
Please, miss?
- Yes, you're dismissed.
Miles?
Where's your sister?
- Down by the pond, I expect.
JANE: Well you should never leave her alone by the water.
- Shall I fetch her, miss?
JANE: It's all right, I'll go.
Flora, what are you doing out here?
- Making a boat.
- But you know you're not meant to be here alone.
- I quite intended returning with Miles, only the dear
boy left without me.
- Well, in future, would you please--
- What's wrong, miss?
- Who's that woman?
- I don't see anyone.
- What do you mean, you don't see anyone?
She's there, she's over--
FLORA: Where, Miss Cubberly?
- Come on, Flora, let's return to the house.
Mrs. Grose?
MRS. GROSE: Yes, miss?
- I've just come from the pond with Flora.
There was a woman there, dressed all in black, pale and thin
boned with dreadful eyes.
She fixed the child with those eyes, Mrs. Grose,
such awful eyes.
- I don't understand, miss, what do you mean?
- It's as if she wanted to get hold of her - - of Flora.
- Get hold of Flora?
Really, miss I don't know what you're talking about.
What did the child say to all this?
- Well that's the fright of it, she said she saw nothing.
She was like a great, black bird of prey hovering there.
A dead thing returned.
- Dead?
- Oh yes, I know her--
she's an evil face, eyes sunk in shadow, full lips - -
my predecessor.
- Miss Jessel?
- Flora has a portrait of her left among her things.
The child displays it proudly.
It was the same woman, Mrs. Grose, I have no doubt of that.
What I cannot fathom is why Flora won't admit to seeing
her, too.
- But is it not possible, miss, that little Flora is
speaking the truth and that she saw nothing of what you did?
- Well, the woman did vanish away suddenly.
Yes, perhaps she didn't see her.
I'll grant the possibility.
In fact, Mrs. Grose, I shall cling to it.
- There, I so hope it grows.
- I'm sure it will, you've done a lovely job.
- Oh, I think it's starting to rain.
My plant will be ruined.
- No, it won;t, the rain ill do it good.
- Do you think so, Miss Cubberly?
I mean, I hate to see things die.
- Come on, quick, let's go inside
before it really rains hard.
Run!
Oh.
Dear.
Here.
- How unpleasant rain is.
Miles promised to take me exploring, and now he can't.
- Ah.
- Could you play a game instead?
- All right, what would you like to play?
- Fetch. We shall play fetch.
- Well, I've never heard of such a game.
- Of course you haven't-- we made it up.
We make up all our best games, don't we, Miles?
- Oh, yes we do.
JANE: Well, is it very complicated?
What are the rules?
- Oh, it's oh so easy to play.
Tell her, Miles.
- Each of us draws a card.
If one of us draws a card marked slave,
well then the person who draws that card must obey, oh,
providing someone else has drawn a card marked master.
If not, then we shuffle and draw again.
You may draw the first card.
- What must the slave do?
- Fetch whatever the master asks.
JANE: And who wins?
- Oh, there's no winning or losing, it's--
not in fetch.
We just play till we're bored.
Ready?
- So I'm the master.
And who's to be my slave?
Flora?
- What does the blank card mean?
MILES: It means that Flora is disqualified.
The contest, my dear Miss Cubberly, is between us.
Your card, please.
-
JANE: What must I do?
- Oh, you must fetch, of course.
It is my right to tell you what to fetch,
but not exactly where to fetch it.
JANE: Well, what about if I can't find it?
- Well then, you lose the game, dear Miss Cubberly,
and you still remain the slave. - Very well, Miles.
You speak and I shall obey.
- Go up into the clock tower.
In that great, dark, place, there is a Chinese doll.
It is dressed in yellow, and you must look until you find it.
- And am I to bring the doll back here?
- Yes, that's correct.
As my slave, you must lay the doll at my feet.
- Very well, I shall go.
FLORA: I think my plant's going to die.
The rain is killing it.
I'm sure it can't survive.
- Miles and Flora!
Help me, the door is stuck.
- My dear, the door was only stuck.
- But there was a woman standing over there.
- A woman standing over there? - Yes, there.
She's gone now, but she was there a moment ago.
- I'll go have a look.
- I'm sure you're all right, Miss Cubberly.
- Here, quite right, there's certainly nothing here now.
Over here, was it? JANE: Yes.
- Oh wait a minute, there's something inside the room.
Ha ha, this is probably what you saw, isn't it?
Probably this, my dear.
Look-- clothes dummy.
Oh, I see you found the doll.
- I've had enough of this game now, Miles.
- Yes, actually, Fetch is quite boring, even on a rainy day.
Come on, Flora, we'll find something else to play.
- But miss, I can't understand why you feel that way.
- Well, nevertheless Mrs. Grose, I
am convinced that Miles arranged the whole incident,
and quite probably with Flora's help.
- But why would Master Miles want to frighten you, miss?
- I don't know.
I just somehow feel he had his reasons.
- Oh, no more than a boy's prank.
He just meant to tease, miss, I'm sure of it - - just to tease.
JANE: Perhaps Mrs. Grose was right
and Miles did only mean to tease.
But it was no longer that which concerned me - -
it was what I saw while locked in those musty quarters that
finally led me that night back to the clock
tower of Bly House.
A consuming curiosity drew me there--
drew me back to the trunk which contained
all of the worldly belongings of Peter Quint.
I determined to examine these personal items in order that I
might know more about the man.
Mrs. Grose, may I have a word with you a moment, please?
- Yes, miss.
- What do you know of these?
Have you seen them before?
- I don't know, miss.
Where did you find them?
- In the clock tower in Peter Quint's trunk,
they were among his things.
- Might I see them, miss?
Why, miss, they are--
- Shocking.
Vile and degrading.
Have you knowledge of them?
- I recognize the handwriting.
- And the harlot who sent them?
- They're from Miss Jessel.
- You must speak out fully.
- Quint had his way with her almost
from the day she arrived.
And she-- Miss Jessel--
she encouraged him in his vices--
matched them with her own.
An infamous pair they were, shameless and bold
in their dark business.
Oh miss, the things that have happened in this house.
- So now I know why he did it.
- What, miss?
- Miles - - why he sent me to the clock tower.
He wanted me to find those dreadful letters.
- Oh, miss, how can you think such as thing?
Why ever would Master Miles--
- I have it now.
Of what did Miss Jessel die?
Tell me the nature of her illness.
- After Quint's death, she brooded, shut herself away
in her room, refused to eat.
We'd hear her moaning in the night.
Finally she left Bly.
- Tell all of it.
I want the manner of her death.
- She went quite mad, miss.
Within a month of leaving Bly - - and this I heard from others - -
she put a pistol to her bosom.
They found her in the village inn, lifeless on the bed.
- I'll have those letters, Mrs. Grose.
- Yes, miss.
- A week passed without further incident
and the bright days restored my energies.
Had I alarmed the good Mrs. Grose, been unjust about Miles
and frightened little Flora all without due provocation?
Had I seen merely projections of my own fears
based on rumor and hearsay?
I learned to be amused and amusing,
and not to think of tomorrow.
I had determined to pursue my duties with joy and zeal
and give these innocent children, for innocent
they surely were, the full measure of my training
and love.
I said nothing more of what I'd seen to Mrs. Grose, nor she
to me.
- Would you read to us, Miss Cubberly,
while we rest under the shade of the tree?
- Oh, what story would you like to hear?
- A fairy tale about good and evil
with witches and demons and dark forests.
- Well, I rather think Miles is a bit old for such stories.
- Oh, no, he isn't, not really.
He'll enjoy it every wit as much as I. Please?
And we should have a picnic.
- Well, all right, then.
I'll meet you under the trees at the front of the house,
all right?
- I love to watch the sky through tree branches.
It looks all cut up into little blue pieces.
- Oh, hush, you ninny.
Dear Miss Cubberly is ready to read to us.
- No, there's no hurry.
Why don't you have some more of Mrs. Grose's lovely chicken
sandwiches.
- The one thing I like about picnics--
you always get ants.
I love to watch Miles drown them.
- What of that?
MILES: I don't actually drown them--
not all the way, I mean.
FLORA: Tell her how you do it, Miles.
- Well, I take a glass of water, I
gather some ants, maybe about a dozen,
and drop them in and watch them try to swim.
They can't, you know.
Not for long.
When I watch them sink all the way to the bottom,
then I pour out the water carefully onto a rock,
laying out the ant bodies in rows.
The sun beats down and they come to life.
After a while, their legs sort of twitch and wiggle,
and pretty soon, they're alive again.
FLORA: As if they were never really dead.
MILES: Then I let them go.
- That's fascinating.
Now then, what story would you like me to read?
- The one about the little boy and girl
lost in the magic forest.
- All right.
Once upon a time, in a far off kingdom
of green and gold, there was a magical forest.
A wizard had created it to feed his huge belly,
but died before he could eat more than the outer edges.
- He was a pig.
- Oh, do be quiet, or I shall stuff your mouth with grass.
JANE: Tsk, tsk. The trees--
- Excuse me.
JANE: The trees were licorice, the roses were peppermint,
and the rocks and boulders were chocolate drops.
An evil witch had come to live there
in a house alongside a lake of sarsaparilla
deep in the forest.
She had emerald eyes, and sharp ivory teeth,
and a long pointed nose for smelling out children.
Boys and girls were warned never to venture
into the magical forest, no matter
how good it tasted, because the witch was there to eat them.
The witch hated licorice, but loved
to chew up boys and girls.
- Do evil witches really exist?
- No, only in fairy stories.
- But evil exists, my dear, along with good.
Could it be reversed, I wonder?
- How, Miles?
- Well, evil be good and good evil.
FLORA: Hey, look, there's Luke with Blue Boy.
May we watch him, miss?
May we?
- Oh, go on, both of you.
But don't miss your lessons.
That same afternoon, another unsettling experience
occurred.
On the way back to my room, I suddenly came across Flora.
She stood on the parapet stairs, a strange smile upon her face.
I stopped for a moment, gripped by the cold and certain
realization that Flora was about to embrace the very presence
she had denied seeing.
Flora!
- Oh, Miss Cubberly.
- Who's there with you, Flora?
- Only me, miss.
- We were playing knight and lady.
- Very well.
You may continue.
Where did you come from?
- From my room, dear, I heard you cry out, as if in pain.
I came to see if I might aid you,
but I see were only dreaming.
You quite over your nightmare? - Yes, quite.
Did I awaken your sister?
- Oh, she's fine.
Young children sleep quite soundly.
- As you should be doing at this hour.
You may go back to your room.
- Might I have a good night kiss?
Good night, my dear.
- Miss, I can't help asking.
Did Master Miles mention the nature of his troubles
at school? - Not a word.
- And you didn't bring the matter up?
- Oh, yes, on more than one occasion, on which
he shies from the subject.
And I hesitate to press it further.
He'll speak in due time.
- And you didn't write to Mr. Fredericks?
- No, and I shall not unless things move beyond my control.
I must see this out.
- Might I ask for special favor, Miss Cubberly?
- Yes, of course. - Could we visit the graves?
- He means the churchyard round the back.
The cemetery's there. - Oh?
- I'll not go, I want to go back home to Bly and play dolls.
My little doll, Sally, is very sick.
Somebody wicked cut off her head.
- I could take miss Flora back, miss,
if it pleases you to go with Master Miles?
- I would like to visit the graves.
- Well all right, we'll go around to the cemetery
then, Mrs. Gross.
- This way.
Do you enjoy being in cemeteries, Miss Cubberly?
- Enjoy?
No.
I neither like or dislike them.
I never seek them out, if that's what you mean.
- I find them fascinating.
Think that all these people, once strong and alive,
now they're fallen apart, indeed, buried.
Will my skeleton fall apart when I die?
- What kind of talk, you're barely 14.
- Can't 14-year-olds die?
JANE: Everyone dies eventually, Miles,
but we try not to think about it.
- That's irrational.
Why not think about it?
Death is real as life.
Are you afraid to die, Miss Cubberly?
- I don't know.
I suppose it's something I shall face at the proper time.
- I've often thought myself dead,
and what it would be like, lying there, cold, still.
- Well, I think everyone imagines
what it must be to die, but it's morbid to dwell upon the image.
- Well, I'm not at all afraid, and neither is Flora.
- Do you talk of death with Flora?
- Oh, we talk of many things.
She's extremely bright, as you've noticed.
She's not like other little girls.
Flora understands things.
- What things does she understand?
- I should like to talk to all these people, the ones
here under the ground.
I should like to ask questions and listen
to what they would tell me.
Quick boy such as myself, I could learn a great deal.
- Did you ever tell Mrs. Grose what you're
telling me about the dead?
- Oh goodness no, my dear, Mrs. Grose is such a simple soul.
She'd be terribly shocked.
JANE: Well, I'm shocked.
- Oh no you're not.
Oh, you think you ought to be, but you're not.
Indeed, you're fascinated by everything I've said.
Do you find me a wicked boy, Miss Cubberly?
- Oh, no, Miles, you're a good boy.
- Not good, not always good.
I have been wicked, you know.
- Oh, you've not been really wicked.
You've played pranks, of course, but that's not being wicked.
True wickedness is something far more.
Wickedness darkens the soul.
What's wrong?
- It's just that--
well, sometimes I-- - Sometimes what?
- Sometimes I'm afraid of myself, Miss Cubberly.
I frighten myself.
- How?
What do you mean?
- There are times, Miss Cubberly, when I--
I do feel wicked--
truly wicked.
- Yes, but you have no reason.
- Oh, you can't say that, you don't know.
- Yes, I can, Miles. - No, you can't.
What about that time in the stables?
- What do you mean?
- Oh, ask Luke, he'll tell you.
- No, Miles, you tell me.
Tell me, Miles.
- I hurt Timothy when we were playing together
in the stables.
- Did he do something to make you angry?
- He did nothing.
I just wanted to hurt him. - But why?
- I don't know why.
- What made you want to hurt him, Miles?
Who made ones want to do it? - Nobody.
Nobody at all.
I just wanted to hurt him, wanted to be wicked.
I must leave.
I have had enough of this place.
Enough!
JANE: Miles, please.
Miles, wait for me.
Mrs. Grose, could I ask you a question?
- Yes, miss?
- Do you happen to know of a recent incident
where Miles hurt Timothy?
- No, I don't, miss.
Why do you ask?
- Well, it's just that when I was with Miles today,
he happened to mention it and he was very upset about it.
- Well, what did he say had happened?
- Oh that was it, he wouldn't go into any details,
he just said it happened at the stables.
- Oh, I remember.
They were playing one day in the stables--
Master Miles and Timothy, and Timothy fell from the loft
accidentally.
It could have been quite serious because the boy narrowly
missed impaling himself on a pitchfork.
But all that actually happened was,
he was a bit shaken up and scratched himself
on one of the tines.
- Well, why do you suppose Miles would tell me that he
thought he was responsible?
- Responsible?
Oh, I think I know the answer to that, miss.
Luke practically accused Master Miles of deliberately pushing
the boy.
- What did Timothy say?
MRS. GROSE: He told his father it was only an accident
and that he'd fallen while they were playing.
- I see.
- Luke was always quick to anger when it comes to Master Miles.
It's no secret, miss, that for some reason,
Luke doesn't like the boy.
- Well, that's awful, because it's already
had its effect on Miles.
For some reason that he cannot truly understand himself,
he actually believes that he wanted to hurt Timothy,
and he's frightened by his own feelings.
- Well, it's not true, miss, and I'm
sure you know it isn't true.
- Well of course I do, Mrs. Grose, but never the less,
the damage has already been done.
- Oh, it's too bad.
I know Luke didn't really mean any harm,
but Master Miles is just not capable of hurting anyone.
- Late that night, with both children in bed,
I retired to the sitting room in order
that I might hopefully lose myself in the pages of a book.
For after the disquieting scene with Miles at the cemetery,
I needed to calm my disturbed senses.
Some while had passed since I had encountered Miss Jessel
by the pond, and longer still since I'd
faced the infamous Quint at the window.
I had striven to put aside all thoughts pertaining
to possible future visitations.
On this night, however, my very skin
crawled with the rising conviction
that indeed I was not yet quit of them--
that I was to be plagued afresh with their evil shapes at Bly,
there being something of dread undefinable
astir in the sleeping house.
The walk back to my room seemed, on this uneasy night,
a journey unending.
The halls seemed thrice their size.
It was as if Bly house had stretched and flexioned itself
in the manner of a thing alive.
That the very wood stirred beneath my feet.
At the stairs, my sense of apprehension
greatly intensified and I found myself short of breath,
though I had not yet begun to climb.
As a child, I had once read in amusement
that midnight is the hour of the with
and that 2:00 AM is the hour of the demon.
Now at 2:00, in the black depths of Bly House,
I anything but amused at the recollection,
yet pushed such thoughts aside to climb still further upward.
The staircase became an enemy to be conquered, a wooden mountain
to be scaled.
Then, as I reached the top of the stairs,
I felt a chill enter my body--
a cold so intense that I shuddered as if deep winter had
entered the hall.
It seemed to be emanating from the school room.
The stairs.
A sudden compelling force beyond my will
seemed to draw me back, back to the main staircase.
My heart crushed against the wall of my body
in a thudding drumbeat of fear.
Then, as I rounded the top of the stairs, he was there.
I had, in that instant, come to full terms with the situation.
I knew why he was there, what had drawn him
back to Bly House, coupled with his corrupt companion in lust,
the infamous Jessel woman.
They had come for the children, to claim the innocent souls
of Miles and little Flora.
And that dark knowledge strengthened me
in this moment of horror.
No, I will not permit it.
You shall not have them!
Apparently, in that moment of rage and fear,
I had flung myself full at the demon figure
and had tumbled from the landing.
At the impact, my senses quite deserted me
and my next recollection was of Mrs. Grose bending over me,
and behind her, Miles and Flora.
- Are you all right, miss?
- We feared for your life, my dear.
- Indeed.
Do you have any broken bones?
- No, I'm all right.
I stumbled in the dark, the night air blew out my candle,
I lost my footing.
Now back to bed, both of you.
It's far too late for talk.
- What really happened, miss?
- Peter Quint.
He was on the stairs.
You do believe me, don't you, that he was there?
They want me out of the way.
Don't you see that, Mrs. Grose?
They want me to abandon the children to them,
but I shall not.
I must implore you, I need your help in this
to stand against them.
We must stand together.
Quint was here tonight from the grave to seek out young Miles,
I'm sure of it.
- Though what you tell me seems impossible,
I must grant that there were bonds--
strong bonds between Quint and the boy.
Almost unnatural.
They were always close, with Quint spoiling him and taking
him along on wrong occasions.
- What occasions?
How wrong?
- They'd be out together with Quint, drinking - -
be gone for hours.
When they were out, he'd feed the boy whisky.
Once I saw Master Miles stagger and fall from the effect.
Plain drunk, the poor lad was.
- And Miss Jessel allowed it?
- Oh, she-- she didn't mind, that one.
She had Miss Flora to herself on those occasions.
- I see.
And when they were together in the lust, Quint
and that Jessel woman, were the children witness?
- Oh, I cannot truly say, miss.
Flora was too young to know what they were about,
but Master Miles--
- So you could see he knew what was between them?
- Well, he denied, so I don't know.
- You do know.
Despite his denial, you know that he was
witness to their foul union.
- Oh, I hate to speak of it.
- I am convinced that it was Quint's influence
that caused Miles' trouble at school.
The boy's dismissal can be laid to Quint.
And her - - that Jessel woman with young Flora.
Oh, the children know what's about this very second at Bly - -
I tell you, they know.
MRS. GROSE: Know of what you saw?
- More, more.
They pretend otherwise, but Lord help us,
I believe they actually welcome it.
And yet if they win out--
Quint and Jessel - - and the children are lost,
their very souls will be forfeit.
- But why, miss?
Why is all this happening?
- I don't know the why of it.
I only know this horror is upon us
and we must do everything in our power to protect the children,
- I can only pray that you are wrong about all this.
- I, too, Mrs. Grose, I, too.
FLORA: Italy.
MILES: Africa.
FLORA: Germany.
- Egypt.
- Russia.
- Very good.
Now, you were just assigned a paper concerning aspect
of your life here at Bly.
You first, Flora, and out loud, please.
- My life at Bly is ever so much fun now
that my sweet brother is home once again.
We run and play all manner of splendid games.
Sometimes we go to church with Mrs. Grose and Miss Cubberly,
our fine new governess who teaches
us many things in school ..
JANE: That's excellent.
I think I'll give you an A for this.
Oh, you've misspelled splendid, it ends d -i -d, not d -e -d.
All right, thank you.
Miles, your paper, please.
- It's much too personal to read aloud, dear.
I'm sure you'll wish to read it for yourself.
- Who wrote this?
- Well, I did, miss, just as you assigned.
- That's a lie, Miles.
- No, honestly, on my honor, the paper's all mine.
- Then these lurid words are yours?
- If what I wrote shocked or offended you,
dear Miss Cubberly, I tender my most sincere apologies.
I was merely attempting to be free with my style.
- This paper is completely unacceptable.
You'll write another-- a proper one--
and I shall expect to have it by this afternoon.
You are both dismissed.
- Wake up, Miss Cubberly.
Please wake up.
- Oh, Flora, what's wrong?
- He told me not to tell, but I must.
He'll be fearfully angry with me for telling.
- Who will be angry?
- Miles.
I'm so worried.
- Well, what did he ask you not to tell me?
- He said he was going to play.
- At this time of night?
- On the parapet.
- It's terribly dangerous out there at night.
He knows it's forbidden.
- That's why he made me promise not to tell.
- Why would he do such a thing?
Did he give you any reason?
- He said that he wanted to be wicked--
that wicked is being natural. - Natural?
- That's what he said.
- Flora, you remain here in my bed,
and you don't move an inch until I return.
- What are you going to do with Miles?
Will you punish him severely?
- Now, that's not your affair.
You leave Miles to me, I'll deal with him.
- Did I do the right thing in telling, miss?
He'll be fearfully angry with me.
- Of course, you did exactly right.
Go to sleep.
FLORA: Yes, miss.
- The conviction was strongly
upon me that I must function, upon reaching the boy,
as a shield between him and the dark force which
sought to steal him from me.
I felt not unlike like a knight rushing to battle
for the life of a loved one.
My own basic terrors were thrust back
in view of my vital mission.
Fear was thus replaced by a desperate sense of urgency.
Miles!
Miles.
Get off there, Miles.
Here, give me your hand.
A sense of lightness assailed me
as I drifted closer to the edge of the parapet.
The figure of Peter Quint seemed to be drawing me downward.
I fought to maintain my balance, attempting
to stave off a wave of vertigo which threatened
to sweep me from the edge.
It was as if his strong hands were clutching at me,
slowly exerting force.
A sense of impending death swept over me, stealing my sanity.
MRS. GROSE: Miss Cubberly?
What are you doing here?
What are you doing up here?
- Miles-- where is the boy?
- I haven't seen him, miss.
- But he was here a moment ago.
- Oh, I don't know anything about that, miss.
I heard miss Flora crying, and she told me
that you'd come up here.
- And she made no mention of Miles?
- No, miss.
Are you sure that - - - Yes, of course I'm sure.
He was here-- he was right here.
- Oh miss, he's asleep.
- Nonsense, he's faking.
Wake up, Miles.
Come on, it's no use pretending, I'm not deceived.
MRS. GROSE: Oh, miss, I think he's
been to sleep all the time.
Please, miss.
- Go and see to miss Flora.
I'll deal with Master Miles.
- Well, if you-- yes, miss.
- Well, Miles?
Now, I want the truth.
Why did you go up to the parapet?
- If I tell you, will you truly understand?
JANE: Tell me.
- It was a test.
I was testing you.
- With Flora's knowledge?
- Oh yes, she agreed to help me with the test.
It was carefully planned.
Flora was to wake you and pretend
that I had asked her not to tell you that I'd
gone up to the parapet.
We both knew you'd come up after me.
I was to stand on the very edge and pretend not to hear you
when you called my name.
Meanwhile, Flora was to alert Mrs. Grose.
It was all a test.
- To what purpose?
- To see if you would still love me if I was wicked.
Do you?
I so need your affection, Miss Cubberly.
I'm not really a wicked boy, even if i say - -
JANE: No, I know, I know.
Miles, I must ask you.
Did you know what I'd encounter there at the parapet?
That he'd be there?
That I'd be drawn to the very edge?
- No, miss, I swear it was simply a test.
I don't know what you're saying.
- Then why did you run away?
- Because I wanted to frighten you by disappearing.
It was all part of my wickedness.
- That was all?
- That was all, miss, all.
- Fair enough.
We'll say no more about it.
- I hope you won't punish Flora.
Oh please don't, it was all my idea.
- There'll be no punishment.
Good night, Miles.
MILES: Good night.
Oh, Miss Cubberly?
- Yes, Miles, what is it?
- I do regret having caused you any distress.
Henceforth, I shall be an absolutely first rate person.
- I left young Miles quite shaken by the child's
need for affection.
His intensity and open sincerity moved and impressed me.
He seemed to be trying to break through to me,
and I could not abandon him, a vulnerable child reaching out
for affection.
I was determined to supply that precious commodity.
Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
Ready or not, here I come.
- A serene and happy week passed.
Most children behaved beautifully.
Miles in particular was bright and affectionate.
Both were attentive and quick at their lessons.
Yet, even as I joined in their games and their gaiety,
I felt always the oppressive weight of my sure and certain
knowledge that I would soon again
face those whose corrupting influence I
sought so earnestly to dispel.
FLORA:
- A seasonal storm struck at Bly,
and the inclement weather kept the children indoors
throughout the day, but they have neither
complained nor misbehaved as a result
of this tiresome confinement.
To reward them for their patience,
I had agreed to sit with Mrs. Grose in audience
while the children performed for us.
On this night, we had no idea of the nature of the performance,
nor of its odd and unsettling content.
I so enjoy a cup of hot chocolate on a cold night.
Will you join me?
- Thank you, miss, I will.
Thank you.
- You've never told me of your family--
your parents, your brothers and sisters.
- Oh, I never had brothers or sisters, miss.
My mother, she was a working woman like myself.
She wanted more children, but something went wrong
and she couldn't have any more.
She died young, and my father, he kept to his trade,
never married again.
- What was his trade?
- Roof thatcher.
Oh, good he was at it.
But he's gone too, now.
Oh, I've been alone for many years.
No family until the children came into my life.
They're my family now.
Master Miles and little Flora.
- Were they born at Bly?
- Oh no, miss, they were born somewhere in Africa.
The Gold Coast, I think they call it.
Constant travelers, those people were.
- Oh, so they came to Bly--
MRS. GROSE: After their parents died.
Their uncle, Mr. Fredricks, he brought them here.
I was already working for him.
Luke, too.
I tell you, they brightened Bly the moment
they stepped inside the door.
What a joy!
Those bright, shining little faces, full of life.
Oh, it was a good house before the others came.
- Dear ladies, this evening, you are
to be entertained by these humble personages.
We have chosen a verse composed by myself
to be performed here tonight.
However, before we present this offering,
the proper mood must be set.
Unfortunately, I am unable to play the piano,
but my sister Flora is really quite accomplished.
Flora?
Please begin.
Very good, Flora.
Come over here, now.
Our piece is entitled, "The Gift Eternal."
- Darkness is a shroud to cover.
- Darkness is the cloak we wear.
- We do not fear the vast blackness.
- We wear shadows in our hair.
FLORA: Darkness calls us to a reckoning.
- Calls us to its' close embrace.
FLORA: We shall soon be there to meet it.
MILES: But we cannot see its face.
FLORA: In the dark, the grave doth it.
MILES: And the coffin cannot hold.
FLORA: Those of us who love the darkness.
MILES: Darkness is our final throe.
- Has something happened, miss?
What's wrong?
- I thought I saw, reflected in that mirror - -
- Yes, miss?
- Evil.
It was evil.
- Do tell me if you liked our performance?
- Oh yes, very much.
- Did it entertain?
- Yes, quite.
You were both excellent.
- Perhaps we should go to London and appear on stage.
Wouldn't that be exciting?
- Oh, London is a pest hole, my dear.
No, we shall stay here at Bly to entertain our beloved Mrs.
Grose.
And of course, dear Miss Clubberly.
- Knowledge becomes the armor one wears
against adversity, and in my quest
for more knowledge of Peter Quint,
I decided to pay a visit on the following morning
to Luke Ames at the stables.
Morning, Timothy.
- Oh, good morning, miss.
JANE: You're grooming him beautifully.
What a lovely horse.
- Oh, thank you, miss.
I guess my father's taught me everything there
is to know about horses.
He knows horses better than people.
- Tell me something, Timothy.
Do you remember Mr. Quint?
- Yes.
JANE: Did you like him?
- I was little and he didn't pay me much mind.
- Oh, I know you were, Timothy, but you must remember something
about him.
What was he like?
- I didn't like him. JANE: Why not?
- He was mean and nasty.
Once I saw him ride a horse to death.
Mean when he drank.
And this one Sunday, he came to the stables
with his favorite riding horse, a lovely black mare,
and rode her till she dropped.
He came back cursing out as if it
was our fault she died on him.
He was cruel, Mr. Quint was.
- Is your father here?
- Round the back, working.
JANE: Oh, Luke?
Morning, Luke.
LUKE: Morning, miss.
Is there something I can do for you, miss?
- Yes.
You could talk to me, Luke. - Talk to you, miss?
- I have some questions I'd like answered.
- Would you like some hot tea?
I can fix some up with no trouble.
- No, thanks.
- It's just as well.
Place is in a mess.
Me and Tim, we don't get many visitors.
- Well, he's a fine boy.
I'm sure you're proud of him.
- Oh I am, miss.
Got a natural way with horses, Tim has.
I taught him to sit a saddle before he could walk.
What was it you wanted to talk of, miss?
- Peter Quint.
- If you don't mind, miss, I'd rather not talk about him.
- Why, Luke?
Did you ever have any trouble with Him
- Yes, miss, I had my troubles with Mr. Quint.
- Please, Luke, it's very important to me.
- If you don't mind my asking, miss, why should Peter Quint
be important to you? - Because I just need to know.
Please, Luke.
- All right, miss.
What do you want to know?
- Well, the night Peter Quint died on the road,
who found his body?
- Why, Miss Jessel.
She'd been with him, you see.
- I understood he fell on the icy road?
Yes, miss. Drunk, he was.
- And what about her?
Was she not drunk, also?
LUKE: Oh, it's public knowledge, miss.
They'd been seen together, drinking and roistering.
- And when they found him, what was the condition of his body?
- Condition, miss?
- What exactly killed him?
- His skull was crushed.
Most say he hit his head on a rock, some say different.
- Go on, Luke.
- Well, some say it were Jessel did him in on the road
that night.
Was crazy jealous she was over his traffic with other women.
All I know is, she went clean out of her head afterward.
- So that's why she killed herself.
LUKE: You might say that, miss--
you just could might.
- Tell me, Luke, why don't you like Master Miles?
For For the same reasons I didn't like Peter Quint.
- What do you mean?
LUKE: If you don't mind, miss, that's all I'm saying.
As I left the stables
and approached the house, I heard piano music
and assumed that Flora was at practice.
I soon realized this could not be
so, for the music was quite professional--
a beautifully executed rendition of Bach.
Was that you playing, Miles?
- Yes, miss.
- But at the recital last night, you said you couldn't play.
- I lied.
JANE: Why?
- Simply to make Flora appear as talented as I. After all,
I'd written the verse.
It was only right that Flora be allowed to play.
- Yes, but why lie about it?
Why not simply let her play without comment
as to your own inability?
Why make a point of it?
- I thought it best she appear as superior to me
in that instance.
Perhaps I was in error.
I regret the lie, Miss Cubberly, particularly now
as it seems to have upset you.
- Well, please continue.
I had no idea that you had such a talent for Bach.
- I am tired now, Miss Cubberly.
I had planned to take a nap before supper.
- Please, I'd like to hear you play, Miles.
- And unhappily, I must decline, dear miss.
I really am quite fatigued.
- Late that afternoon,
after correcting some of the children's work papers,
I was on my way to the school room
when I suddenly ran into little Flora.
Ooh!
- Please forgive me, miss.
- You're in an awful hurry.
- I was just off into the garden.
Would you come play with me?
- No, I can't.
I've got your lessons to get ready for tomorrow.
Where's Miles?
- Oh, he's off exploring somewhere with Timothy.
You know how boys are.
- Well, I tell you what - - why don't you go into the garden
and pick some flowers for the house,
and that'll keep you busy.
- Very well.
Miss Cubberly?
I've often wondered something.
Do horses scream?
I mean, when they die--
when you kill them.
JANE: Never thought of such a thing.
You vile, miserable woman.
Flora!
Come here at once!
- She was here, wasn't she, Flora?
You were in here with her, and you heard me coming.
That's why you lingered in the hall.Say it, Flora, say it!
- I'm all alone.
I'm alone in here.
- Please leave me.
Having been awakened in the night
from a troubled sleep by strange sounds I could not identify,
I discovered that Flora was missing from the room.
Miles also was afoot in this late hour, his bed unslept in.
Then, as I stood there, I heard again
those sounds which had awakened me.
Bly House has many closed rooms, and it was to one of these,
in the deserted west wing, that the disturbing night
sounds drew me.
- You found us, you clever thing.
Cheers for Miss Cubberly.
- Someone else was here, I heard them.
- Oh, you heard us, my dear. Flora was tickling me.
She's quite a dreadful disease. CHILDREN:
- You shall both be punished for this.
And this time, I shall not be lenient.
I've had enough of your late night excursions.
- And what will you do to us, my dear?
Will you chain us to the walls?
- And feed us not but bread and water while
rats crawl around our skin?
- Will you whip us with cat -o -nine -tails until
our backs are striped and bloody?
- You shall both be separated and confined to your rooms.
There will be no riding, and no outings,
and no playing of games.
- And for how long are we to be confined?
- I shall determine that in due course.
You may both return to your rooms.
- It's been two days now, miss.
The children have had their punishment, wouldn't you say?
Poor dears.
- They are not poor dears.
They deliberately provoked me into punishing them.
They knew they were doing wrong, going to that room,
doing what they did.
- What did they do that was so bad?
- They watched them--
that infamous pair with their lust.
Is that not enough, Mrs. Grose?
They have been corrupted, both of them, perhaps
beyond redemption.
- Oh, miss.
I wasn't going to tell you--
not for a time, at least.
- Tell me what?
- About Luke and his boy.
They've gone. JANE: Gone?
Gone where? What do you mean?
- Well, it was what happened last Thursday to Timothy.
We kept it from you, miss.
JANE: Was he injured?
- Well, not injured, exactly.
It-- it had to do with Master Miles.
- Tell me what happened.
- Well, he did something, I don't know what,
to Timothy while they were playing.
Luke said he found his boy in the stables half out
of his mind.
- You mean frightened?
- Terrified, miss, at something Mater Miles had done or said.
I just don't know.
JANE: Well, didn't Timothy say what had happened?
- Not to me, miss.
And Luke, he wouldn't speak of it.
He just packed up and took little Tim
and said he was never coming back to Bly.
- Did you ask Miles about this?
- Yes, miss, but he said he just couldn't understand
why Timothy would make such a fuss because nothing really
happened.
- Oh, he'd call it nothing.
- Pardon, miss?
- At this very moment, in his room, he's not alone.
Quint is there--
Peter Quint is with him.
MRS. GROSE: Oh, miss.
- Flora - - that Jessel woman with young Flora.
The children don't need us, dear woman, they've got them.
And Flora's needlework-- have you seen it?
- Oh, I have, miss, it - - it's quite remarkable.
- Oh yes, indeed it is.
That's no little child's work.
That's Jessel's work.
She held the needle, not Flora.
Why, I am not deceived, Mrs. Grose, I see it all.
All!
If you could but see him as I have--
those innocent children steeped in their visions
of the dead restored.
- I try to believe you, miss, but I have not
witnessed what you have.
- Now, up there, they're talking to them.
I go on, I know, as if I was mad.
It's God's wonder I'm not.
What I have seen would made you so,
but it has only made me more lucid and more
determined to drive these hollows out.
I have written to Mr. Fredericks telling him
he is sorely needed here.
Can you see that this letter is posted?
- Why, yes, miss.
Did you give him all the details of the matter?
- Oh no, I dared not.
If I told him what was truly happening here,
he would think me mad.
No, that letter is a plea, no more.
If he'll but heed it.
- Yes.
Yes.
I hear you.
I'll come.
Yes.
Yes, I'll come.
- Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Miss Cubberly?
Oh, miss, I've just come from miss Flora's room.
I'm so worried about her.
She hasn't had a bite to eat and I
do wish you'd reconsider their punishment.
- Well, she's a perfectly healthy child,
and she's not about to die of starvation.
- No, miss, but what good will it do
continuing their confinement?
Oh please, miss, I'm truly worried about her.
- Yes, my dear, come in.
- I've come to tell you your punishment is over.
You are no longer confined to your room.
MILES: Miss Cubberly, I've been reading
a book about a prince in the 15th century in Transylvania
who employed a unique method of punishment.
- Miles.
MILES: Oh no, dear, you must listen, it's fascinating.
When someone displeased him, he ordered
them stripped naked and impaled on a stake.
He would often eat his dinner surrounded by his victims.
Nasty fellow with all, wouldn't you say?
- Now Miles, we're going to stop this.
The playing of word games no longer amuses me.
What should happen if your uncle should arrive now?
What would you tell him?
- About what, my dear?
- What's happening here in this house...
about Timothy.
- You mean tell Uncle I've been wicked?
- You know what I mean exactly.
Oh, Miles.
- Poor Miss Cubberly.
We have put you through a lot, haven't we?
Oh, my dear.
You look so pale of late--
so drained of color, and so tired.
There, is that better?
Does that relax you?
- Is there nothing?
Nothing at all that you want to tell me?
That you will tell me?
- But you know what there is to know.
- Miles, please believe me, I don't
want you to suffer this alone.
But you must trust me and you trust trust what I'm saying.
- If only-- if only you could--
- What, Miles?
I'll do anything to save you.
- I should like to know something.
- Yes?
- You talk of saving me, but tell me,
who, dear lady, is to save you?
- Oh, miss, it's Flora.
I've just seen her from the window, running.
- A child out in the storm?
She's running where, in what direction?
MRS. GROSE: Toward the pond, miss.
- What's wrong?
- Miles, your sister is out there in that storm.
We are going after her. You will stay here.
- Yes, certainly, Miss Cubberly.
Besides, I shouldn't fancy getting soaked out there.
A fellow has to watch his health.
- As we plunged forward,
I dared not consider what might await us at the pond,
for I was certain that the woman had snatched Flora from me
at a time when the infernal creature sensed I might break
through to the child.
And what she might do at this late and critical juncture
was a thought I could not bear.
Flora!
Come back!
FLORA:
MRS. GROSE: Flora.
- Flora!
Flora, what made you do it?
She did it because of her out there!
You saw her, didn't you?
- I saw nothing, miss.
- Well, Flora saw her, clearly.
- Take me away, take me away!
She hates me!
She tries to make me say things that aren't true.
- Come now, say it!
Admit you saw your precious Miss Jessel.
Say it, Flora, say it.
- I saw nobody!
I never have-- never, never, never!
I hate you, you're vile and horrible.
MRS. GROSE: Oh, you've gone too far with the child, miss.
We know Miss Jessel's dead and buried, don't we, Miss Flora?
- Then you tell me, Mrs. Grose.
Who was out there luring that child to her death?
- I hate her, I hate her.
I hate her.
If only...
MRS. GROSE: Flora, dear, come on.
FLORA: She's horrible, she - - - Come on, now shh.
Hush now, hush.
Oh, shh.
- She's hateful.
She's vile.
- Master Miles?
Master Miles, open the door.
Master Miles, please open the door.
Master Miles has locked his door, won't answer me,
won't budge from his room.
And the letter you wrote to Mr. Fredericks, it's gone.
I'm afraid Mr. Miles has taken it off the table in the hall.
- Never mind.
You leave Miles to me.
Have you packed Flora's things?
- Yes, miss.
We'll take the carriage out tonight.
- And what does she say of me?
- Oh, oh, miss, I--
I don't think I should.
- Tell me.
You must tell me.
- She fears you, miss.
- Fears me?
No fear of Jessel, is that it?
- She said not a word of Miss Jessel,
but she's spoken the most dreadful horrors, miss,
about you.
Used quite dreadful words I'd no idea she knew.
- Thank God.
That justifies me.
- That child's appalling language?
- But it justifies me, don't you see that?
They're not her words, they're Jessel's.
And Jessel's lost her now.
She tried to take her down at the pond, but she lost.
And now she rages through the child.
- I'll take her to London, far away from them.
- Then you do believe?
- I believe, miss.
- Take the child quickly and go.
Leave me with Miles.
- Alone with the boy, miss?
- Yes, don't you see?
He wants to speak to me, to release himself
and confess this whole vile business.
I can make him speak.
- And if he confesses, what then?
- Why, then he's saved.
Quint has lost.
They've lost the pair of them, Quint and Jessel.
Now go quickly, take the child.
Let me save Miles.
Don't you see that, dear Mrs. Grose?
That now I'm the only one in all this world that can.
FLORA: Goodbye, miss.
Goodbye, Miles.
As the storm continued
to assail Bly House, it was as if Miles and I were alone
in a great wooden ship, out in the midst of raging seas
and cut off from all friendly shores.
I mounted towards Miles' room with a sense of high resolve.
I knew that my greatest test lay ahead--
that the monstrous Quint would make his final attempt
this night, and that I must be steeled against weakness
of mind or body.
The boy's life-- his soul--
was literally in my hands.
Miles?
Will you open your door to me, Miles?
- Do come in.
My door is always open to you, Miss Cubberly.
Do you like my outfit?
I thought I would dress properly for the occasion.
And this is an occasion, our being alone together at Bly.
Will Flora be all right, or is the dear child ill?
- Flora will be fine.
Mrs. Grose has taken her to London to your uncle's.
Flora's in an emotional state.
She needed to get away from Bly.
- From Bly?
Or from you, my dear?
- She's quite distressed.
She is not at all herself.
London will calm and restore her.
- I am sure it will.
I suppose I should have said good bye,
but good byes are tiresome and pointless
if those who depart return.
- I doubt that Flora will ever return to Bly.
There's nothing for her here but sadness.
- And what does Bly hold for you, my dear?
- A challenge.
One I must meet.
- Oh, so we're together.
And what a strange pair we make, I say.
Why did you stay, Miss Cubberly?
You could have gone with them.
- I'd never leave you alone here, Miles, you know that.
- Alone?
One is never alone.
JANE: Then who is with you?
MILES: My thoughts.
My past.
All the things of my life are here
with me, as they are with you.
- I'm here as your friend, Miles.
- And I as yours, my dear.
Oh, you've been splendid with me on the whole.
My recent confinement was, of course, quite deserving.
I hold you in high regard.
In fact, I must confess something.
- Yes?
- I'm starved.
Couldn't we continue our talk over tea and biscuits?
I so enjoy hot biscuits soaked in honey.
We shall have a high old time for ourselves,
shant we, dear Miss Cubberly?
On such a night as this, I so prefer brandy over tea.
I am so sorry you won't join me.
- All right, Miles, I will join you.
- Good girl.
There you are, my dear.
A toast.
- To what?
- To us, of course.
The two of us here at Bly on a storm tossed night.
To our relationship.
And now what have you to say to me?
I know you have much to say.
- I want to talk truth with no evasions
and no verbal tricks and no shunting aside.
MILES: Of what?
- Of what we both know--
of what Flora knew.
- Ask me anything.
You'll have your truth.
JANE: Very well.
That letter that I wrote to your uncle--
did you take it from the hall table?
- I took it, yes.
JANE: And read it?
- Yes. It was dull.
Nothing more than a highly emotional
request that my uncle return to Bly.
I had hoped for more.
- You had no right to take it.
- Who are you to write it?
Knowing this, you knew that my uncle is not to be troubled.
This is a tiresome subject that you wish to discuss with me.
- All right.
Your school.
Why were you dismissed and not to be readmitted?
- Because I said things.
- Only that?
- They thought it enough.
- To turn you out for?
- Yes.
- To whom did you say them?
- My chums, mainly.
Those I liked.
- And did they repeat them? - Yes.
To those they liked.
- And so said these things that you said,
they eventually got around to your headmaster?
- Eventually.
- But in his letter, he gave no specific reason for dismissal.
- I'm not surprised.
I wouldn't have expected him to write the things I'd said down
on paper. One doesn't.
Does one?
- Were they vile, then?
- I'm not going to repeat them to you, dear,
if that's what you're after.
I shouldn't wish to corrupt you.
- So they were corrupting, were they, to the other children?
He taught them to you, didn't he, Miles,
as he taught you so much else.
As he taught you foul words and foul deeds.
He's corrupted you, Miles, hasn't he?
Can't you see that? He's made you now what you are.
- Won't you leave me alone?
I'm sick of your questions!
- Miles.
- No, no, leave me alone.
- Miles!
Don't run from me, Miles.
- Why are you doing this to me?
Hounding me, trying to trap me?
What are you going to gain from it?
JANE: I'm a friend, Miles.
I'm your only real friend.
Please, you need me.
- Need you?
I loathe you.
I despise you.
Can't you see that?
You're such a stupid bitch!
- He's here, isn't he, Miles?
Right here in this house.
Say it, Miles, tell me he's here, isn't he?
Say it, say it!
- Yes, yes, yes, damn you, woman!
You want to hear me say it?
Peter Quint is here!
JANE: No, Miles!
He'll destroy you.
Miles, he wants to claim you, to claim your soul.
He wants to make you the way he is.
Miles, you can do it--
you can win, you can be free of him forever.
Turn your back on him, Miles!
Miles, reject Peter Quint.
Come to me!
To me!
Oh, Miles, you're all right, now.
There, dear, dear, dear boy.
No!
No more, no more!
Oh, I'm sorry.
I really am sorry.
I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.