Splendid air.
Rough shooting?
Perhaps a little fishing.
And the best cook in the county of Sussex
wouldn't you say?
Holmes!
And Reginald Musgrave.
Well he is a sign
of one of the oldest families in England.
He was in the same college as myself.
He was not generally popular
among the undergraduates
but he always seemed to me
that what was set down as pride,
was really a cover for
extreme natural diffidence.
Indeed I never think of his
pale, lean face
and the poise of his head
without associating him with gray archways,
mullioned windows
and all the venerable wreckage of a feudal keep.
Well if you feel so uncharitable
why didn't you accept his invitation?
To escape my lethargy
and you're constant bullying
to tidy our room in Baker Street.
Hardly constant.
So I have decided to devote my weekend
to the collating of some of my early works.
What early works?
It was before my biographer
came to glorify me.
Do you mean you have records of your work?
Not all successes.
But some pretty little problems.
Record of the Tarleton murders,
the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant,
the adventure of the old Russian woman,
a full account of
Ricoletti with the clubfoot,
and his abominable wife
and the singular affair of the aluminum crutch.
Aluminum crutch?
Now that was something a little recherché.
I wish I had notes of these cases.
Yes my boy.
Well you may hold my interest for a few hours
while you potter with our host
through the antiquities of a by gone age.
Surely the house interests you?
The house is freezing Watson!
It's history.
The people in there.
On your previous visit
I remember you telling me
that you endured some lively conversations
with a butler.
What's his name Brunston?
Oh Brunton.
A young schoolteacher out of place.
Did he not... did he not speak several languages?
Yes, he played nearly every musical instrument.
A man of considerably
more intellectual ability than his master.
Watson we must behave ourselves.
Awe, Brunton.
Mr. Holmes, a pleasure to see you again.
My friend and colleague, Doctor Watson.
Welcome to Hurlstone, sir.
Musgrave,
my friend and colleague, Doctor Watson.
So glad, it's a long time.
Yeah.
How is all gone with you?
Oh busy, busy.
My father died.
I've had the estates to manage.
And as I am now a member of parliament
the district as well.
But you... you I have noticed
are still turning to practical end of powers
with which you used to amaze us at college.
Yes, I'm still living by wits
and how is the dear wife?
I'm not married Holmes.
How wise.
And the windows date from 1596.
The manor is thought to be
the oldest inhabited building in the country.
I once knew some northern Musgrave's.
They did come from the north originally.
A cadet branch of the family
broke away from the northern Musgrave's
and came to West Sussex
in the early seventeenth century.
Holmes?
More brandy sir?
No, Brunton.
That's how the story goes, Randall,
and I can vouch for it.
But the commission is over here,
signed by Prince Rupert.
It's from my ancestor the Ralph Musgrave.
Yes, enjoy is cavalry troop at Edge Hill.
Rupert's seal and commissioned Holmes.
Astonishing.
It's one of the boots worn that day.
If I may be so bold sir.
Huh?
The boot was worn by his brother,
Sir Roland Musgrave.
That was indeed,
my butler was once a schoolmaster,
I must bow to his scholarship over mine
and matters of my own family's history.
No, no, no never mind
you may leave us now.
Yeah but Brunton
where is Rachel tonight?
She has a slightest temperature.
I told her to go to her room.
Good night, gentlemen.
Holmes... Holmes has told me
of Brunton's extraordinary idea.
But I remember on my last visit
where he spent several hours
explaining to me in French
the origins of the piccolo.
It is wonderful that he should be satisfied
for so long with such a position
but I suppose...
I suppose he's been comfortable
and lacked the energy to make a change.
Oh yes, indeed.
The butler of Hurlstone.
It's always a thing that is remembered
by all who visit us.
Oh dear Musgrave,
However, this paragon does have one fault,
a bit of a Don Juan.
Well it's not a difficult part to play
in quiet country district.
When he was married he was all right,
but since he's become a widower
we've had no end of trouble with him.
I mean, a few months ago
we were in hopes
he was about to settle down again.
He became engaged to Rachel Howells,
my second housemaid
but he has thrown her over.
Taken up with Janet Tregallis,
my gamekeeper's daughter.
Rachel is a very good girl,
but she is of an
excitable Welsh temperament.
Now she wonders around like a black-eyed shadow,
thoroughly unsettling the household.
Rachel?
Good morning, Holmes,
Sir Reginald.
Thank you.
Where's Brunton this morning?
It's all right, it's all right.
Nothing.
It's all right.
The girl is fainting, Watson.
My dear young woman,
you should not be at work
you should be in bed.
You may leave your duties, Rachel.
Come back when you're feeling stronger.
I am strong enough, sir.
I'll be the judge of that.
You must go to your room.
No.
Lie down.
And on your way tell Brunton
that I wish to see him.
The butler is gone.
Gone?
Gone where?
He's gone.
He's not in his room now.
No one's seen him.
Oh, yes, yes, he's gone.
He's gone.
It's all right.
Gentle.
Gently.
Gentle.
Gently Rachel.
It's all right.
Gently, Rachel, gently.
Gentle.
The bed's not been slept in.
Have you searched the house?
From cellar to garret.
The girl's right there's no trace of him.
He's gone.
Do not see how the man could have left.
I mean the windows and door are all fastened.
What man goes away in the middle of the night
and leaves all his possessions behind?
And money, watch?
Well I've given the girl
something to calm her down
and I've taken the liberty
to sending for a local nurse.
She's in a most unusual nervous state.
And she should, on no account,
be left alone for a while.
This is the girl who was engaged to Brunton?
Rachel Howells, yes, yes.
Girl with a fine Welsh temper.
Oh Watson.
Look gentlemen I had no intention of this
small domestic incident
should ruin your weekend.
I propose we continue our plans for a shoot
and we'll return hopefully
to some simple explanation.
Holmes?
Well done, Watson.
Holmes?
As I was telling Watson,
something happened last night,
which may throw some light on this matter.
This is very embarrassing but I...
I find I need your advice.
I couldn't sleep after foolishly taking
that cup of Coffee after dinner
and about two o'clock
I gave up the struggle.
I came downstairs to fetch a novel I'm reading,
which I'd left in the library.
Well you can imagine my surprise
when I saw a glimmer of light
coming from the open door.
I'd remembered I had extinguished the lamp
and closed the door when we retired.
Naturally my first thought was burglars.
So this is how you repay my trust,
prying into my family documents?
You will leave my service tomorrow.
Mr. Musgrave, sir,
I can't be a disgrace.
I've always been proud about my station in life,
and disgrace would kill me.
My blood will be on your head sir,
it will indeed if you drive me to despair.
What?
If you cannot keep me after this,
then for God sake
let me give you notice
and leave in a month
as of my own free will.
A month is too long.
I could stand that, Mr. Musgrave,
but not to be cast out
before all the folk I know so well.
You don't deserve consideration, Brunton.
Your conduct has been infamous.
However, I've no wish
to bring public disgrace upon you.
You take yourself away in a week,
and you give whatever reason you like.
A week, sir?
Only a week?
A fortnight-say at least a fortnight!
No a week!
And you may consider yourself
to have been very leniently dealt with.
But what is strange
is that he seemed most anxious to stay.
Well it's quite plain to me what happened.
He went back to his room,
thought it over,
decided to stage his disappearance,
there and then cleverly.
Possibly with the help of his new woman friend.
Janet?
No, no, no,
She lives with her father
on the other side of the lake
and besides I doubt if she'd have
the wit to help him.
This piece of paper
which Brunton thought worth his while to consult,
even at the risk of the losing his job?
Well it's nothing.
It's nothing of any importance at all.
Nevertheless.
It's simply a copy of the singular old observance
called the Musgrave Ritual.
Seldom peculiar to our family,
which each Musgrave has to go through
when he's coming of age.
This is a strange catechism.
Undated but written in the style
of the middle of the seventeenth century.
Would you and Watson be good enough
to read it out to me?
Oh Doctor, I know it by heart.
Whose was it?
His who is gone.
Who shall have it?
He who will come.
Where was the sun?
Over the oak.
Where was the shadow?
Under the elm.
How was it stepped?
West eight by eight,
south seven by seven,
west six by six,
south five by five and two by two,
and so under.
What shall we give for it?
All that is ours.
Why should we give it?
For the sake of the trust.
Why, it's a treasure hunt.
Oh no, no, I remember as children
we often tried to solve it.
It leads nowhere.
Could Brunston have seen this before last night?
Well it's possible.
We took no pains to hide it
but what could he want with it?
Obviously he was refreshing his memory.
You say that he had some map or chart,
which he was thrust back into his pocket
the moment you appeared?
That's what it looked like.
Yes.
We must reexamine this ritual.
The measurements obviously refer
to some exact spot
to which the rest of the document eludes.
You are given two guides?
Yes, an elm and an oak.
And gentlemen, there is a patriarch among oaks.
Certainly the oldest oak on the estate.
This tree must have been here
in the time of the Norman Conquest.
In all probability
but I tell you
it can't be the oak referred to, Holmes.
Generations of Musgrave's
have attempted to solve it.
They've dug up half this field.
You are right, Musgrave,
this is not the oak referred to in the ritual.
Are there any other large oaks
in the immediate vicinity?
Not within a mile of the house.
Where was the sun?
Over the oak.
You can make nothing of it today, old man,
the weather's turned.
Sir Richard.
Good morning.
It's eight foot deep here.
Poor demented girl.
We must live and hope, old man.
There's been no body found yet.
Nothing so far sir.
We've just about covered all of it.
We found something!
What does it contain?
Nothing of value.
It could have been thrown in by anyone at anytime.
No recently or the water would have rotted the bag.
The maid last night.
Well it would explain her journey to the mere
but then where did she go?
There's nothing here, Holmes.
It's just a mass of,
rusted and discolored metal and some pebbles.
And where is Brunton
or Rachel?
Why should anybody bother
to throw this into the lake?
I am convinced
that there are not three mysteries here,
but only one,
and the solution of one
may prove the solutions to the others.
Apparently Brunton saw something in this,
which escaped your forbears, Musgrave,
from which he expected some personal advantage.
If I can read it right
I hold in my hand the clue
to the truth concerning both the butler Brunton
and the maid Howells.
Wherever is the sun over the oak?
Where was the shadow on the elm?
So this is where it grew?
Yes.
I suppose it's impossible
to tell me how high it was?
I can give you that at once.
It was sixty-four feet.
It's my old tutor;
he used to give me lessons in trigonometry.
When I was a lad I used to know
the height of every tree
and building on this estate.
I am grateful to your tutor.
Tell me did Brunton ever ask you such a question
here on this lawn?
Now that you call it to my mind.
Brunton?
What are you doing here?
Enjoying the evening, sir.
This is my private lawn.
You pardon me for asking sir,
the elm that once stood here,
that was struck by lightning,
you wouldn't remember the height of it
would you sir?
Well why should you want to know that?
Well I'm arguing with Mr. Tregallis about it.
I say it was fifty feet, he put it higher.
We have a small wager on it.
Oh, well you've lost your wager, Brunton.
It was sixty-four feet.
Awe, was it?
I shall just have to be a good sport
and pay up then.
Thank you sir.
Holmes?
Huh?
Oh good lord!
Now we must find where
the shadow of the elm would have fallen
when the sun is just clear of that oak.
Well that'll be difficult, Holmes,
since the elm's no longer there.
Oh now come, Watson.
If Brunton can do it then so can we.
The answer lies in trigonometry.
Musgrave I need all the fishing rods
that you have in the hall.
Holmes?
Yes.
I... I don't quite follow this.
Awe splendid!
Musgrave?
Every rod in the house.
Thank you.
Measuring stick please, Watson.
Would you hold that for me, Musgrave please?
And that?
Now will you take the last yard of the string
and tie it to the base of the fishing rod, Watson?
Yes.
And when you've done that
would you bring the Ritual
and join me on the lawn?
Would you measure that shadow, please Watson?
Nine feet.
So the calculation is now a simple one.
If a fishing rod of six feet
throws a shadow of nine feet
then a tree of sixty-four feet
would throw one of?
Ninety-eight.
Ninety-six.
Yes of course.
And the line of one of course
would be the line of the other.
Watson look!
Two inches from mine.
A mark made by Brunton.
Now read out the steps.
West eight by eight.
Sixty-four.
Then south seven by seven.
Forty-nine.
West.
Six by six.
Thirty-six and
South Five by five.
And?
Two by Two.
One, two, three, four.
I don't believe it.
Some mistake in your calculations.
That's impossible.
Brunton hasn't been here.
Two by two and so under.
These stones haven't been moved in many a long year.
And under.
Holmes.
You've forgotten the 'and under.'
Is there a cellar under here?
As old as the house.
There's been wood all over the floor.
That's Brunton's muffler.
I'd swear to it.
Watson!
Inspector, this is a friend of mine,
Doctor Watson.
Inspector,
I have some experience in forensic pathology.
The man has been dead for two days.
Cause of death suffocation.
No wound or bruise on this person, sir?
None.
Accident hey?
Oh there's no doubt about it.
He must have been down there alone
and the flagstone just fell shut on him, poor fellow.
Sir Reginald,
I'm told that your butler was down in the cellar
in an unused part of the house.
What was his business there sir?
A butler's duties
are many and varied, Inspector.
I can't possibly answer that question.
Well no one would have heard his cries for help
in that part of the house,
that is the point surely, Inspector.
Tregallis.
Rachel!
She done it!
She killed him!
That's why she ran away!
Tregallis!
Rachel?
It's nothing.
The servants are naturally upset.
Well who is this Rachel?
One of my housemaids.
She was engaged to Brunton.
Do please cover him up.
One evening he disappeared.
She became ill and left.
Well I shall want to see her.
I shall want to see that young woman also.
Sergeant.
All right take him away
Doctor please.
The local inspector Holmes.
If you could find a plausible explanation
to avoid publicity in this retched...
I must confess
that so far I am disappointed
in my investigation.
I had reckoned upon solving the matter
when once I'd find the place
referred to in the Ritual
but now that I'm here
I'm as far as ever
from knowing where it was your family concealed
with such an elaborate precautions.
But you've solved my mystery of Brunton.
But how?
How did his fate come upon him
and what part has been played
by the woman whose disappeared?
I should explain Holmes methods in such cases.
He... he puts himself in the man's place
having first gauged his intelligence
and then he...
he tries to imagine how he himself
would have proceeded
in similar circumstances.
In this case
Brunton's intelligence is first rate.
So you see it is unnecessary
to make allowance for the personal equation.
As the astronomers have dubbed it.
He knows something is concealed.
He has spotted the place.
He has found the stone is too heavy
for a man to move unaided.
So what does he do?
Help from outside.
No one to trust.
Help from inside but who?
Rachel.
She still loves him.
He sees it in her eyes.
I'm here to say I'm sorry my love.
I'm a foolish man.
I don't deserve you.
You don't.
Forgive me Rachel.
Why?
There's no one else for me.
No one ever has been, you know that.
It's this house it eats into your soul.
Let me take you away from here.
We'll start afresh.
Your promises.
Oh Richard, you make love so freely.
You never loved me.
Oh you're wrong.
I love you for your beauty and your spirit.
We're a perfect match.
With my brains and your heart
what do we want with service to others
when a world is out there calling us, my love?
And how do we get out there with no money?
We'll have all the money we need.
I found something in this house
all them country squires have missed.
Now I've found it and we're ready to go.
But not without you,
I couldn't live without you.
I'm to be your husband, Rachel.
What money?
What have you found?
Come with me.
Put on your gown, I'll show you.
Softly now.
There it is, under that stone.
All we have to do is lift it.
Now there's some wood.
Now when I lift this you wedge it.
Come on woman, do as I tell you!
Ready?
And another one.
And that one over there.
There is a slight indentation on this log.
And on this.
Caused by the weight of the stone.
Heavy work for a woman.
And this, I think,
has been used finally as a support.
There's our treasure.
That box is laying there for two centuries or more.
Will you steal it?
How can you steal what nobody knows exists?
Well how did you know then?
Brains my girl.
History and mathematics.
Here, hold the light for me.
Bring the light closer.
Make a fortune!
Oh yes, that's a fine profit.
Be quiet.
There must be some value in it.
Oh how clever are you!
A pride more like.
Known better than your masters!
Quiet woman.
I know your cleverness.
Husband, you just needed me to help you!
If it had been treasure
you'd of been over the way without me!
You would have gone with her!
You're a fool if you believe that.
Here take this.
Now help me out of here.
Rachel!
My love, get help.
I can't breath.
Get Mr. Holmes, quickly.
Please, my love.
Rachel!
Oh God, help me.
Rachel!
Help!
Rachel!
Help me!
Rachel!
Rachel, help me!
That will explain her blanched face
and her fevered brain
at breakfast the next morning.
Nothing but fungi.
But what was in the box, Holmes?
Sir Charles the First.
We may find something else of Charles the First.
The bag that was fished from the mere.
Gentlemen, look.
It's a jewel.
A family heirloom.
Well it's possible.
You're ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave,
was he a prominent cavalier?
Oh yes indeed.
Yes he was close to Charles the Second
in his wanderings during the Commonwealth.
Then I think that should give us
the last link that we wanted.
Gentlemen, you must bear mind
when the royal party were driven into exile
they probably left
many of their most precious possessions
buried behind them
with the intention of returning for them
in a more peaceful time.
Gold, Musgrave.
Watson I believe you have in your hand a relic,
which is not only of great intrinsic value,
but also great importance as a historical curiosity.
Well what is it?
Nothing less than a fragment
of the ancient crown of the kings of England.
The crown!
Oh no, no, Holmes.
It's too amiable.
Now consider the ritual.
How does it run?
Whose was it?
His who is gone.
That was the execution of Charles.
And then who shall have it?
He who will come.
That was Charles the Second,
whose advent was already foreseen.
There can, I think, be no doubt, gentlemen,
that this battered and shapeless diadem
once encircle the brows of the royal Stuart's.
But how came it into my family?
When Charles the First was executed
the crown was seized.
Broken into pieces
and sold for a thousand guineas.
Since then there has been no trace of it,
until now.
But why did Charles not get it back on his return?
That is a question, which may never be answered.
When you ancestor died by some oversight,
he left this guide to his descendent
without ever explaining the meaning of it.
Father to son.
Until at last it came within reach
of a man who tore it's secret out of it
and lost his life in the venture.
Rachel!
Was it chance that the wood slipped
was she only guilty of silence?
She had a passionate, Celtic soul.
The man had wronged her.
She had it in her power.
Might it rather been vengeance
that sent the stone crashing?
Her hand that dashed it away.
Now what has become of her?
Very probably she's far away from Hurlstone now
and carries her secret with her.