(Clattering steps)
(Door slamming)
- (Holmes coughs) - Splendid air!
- (Coughing) - Rough shooting.
- (Groaning) - Perhaps a little fishing.
And the best cook in the county of Sussex, wouldn't you say?
- Holmes! - And Reginald Musgrave.
He's a scion of one of the oldest families in England.
He was in the same college as myself. He was not generally popular
but 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 grey archways, mullioned windows
and all the venerable wreckage of a feudal keep.
If you feel so uncharitable, why did you accept his invitation?
To escape my lethargy.
And your constant bullying to tidy our room in Baker Street.
- Huh! Hardly constant. - So I decided to devote my weekend
to the collating of some of my early work.
- Your early work? - Before my biographer came to my aid.
You have records of your early work?
Not all successes but some pretty little problems.
The records of the Tarlatan murders,
the case of Vanbury, the wine merchants.
The adventure of the old Russian woman.
A full account of Riccoletti, of a club foot and his abominable wife.
And the singular affair of the aluminium crutch.
- Aluminium crutch? - That was a little recherché.
- I wish I had notes of these cases. - (Banging on top of trunk)
Hmm. Yes, my boy.
(Sighs) It may hold my interest for a few hours
while you potter with our host through the antiquities of a bygone age.
- Surely the house interests you? - The house is freezing, Watson.
- (Holmes coughs) - Its history, the people in it.
(Chuckles) On your previous visit I remember you telling me
that you enjoyed some lively conversations with a butler!
- What's his name? Brunston? - Oh! Brunton.
A young schoolteacher out of place.
(Watson) Did he not speak several languages?
(Holmes) He played nearly every musical instrument
and had considerably more intellectual ability than his master!
(Laughs) Watson, we must behave ourselves.
Ah!
Brunton!
- Mr Holmes, a pleasure to see you. - My friend Dr Watson.
Welcome to Hurlstone, sir.
Musgrave! My friend and colleague Dr Watson.
- Very glad. It's a long time. - Yes! How has it all gone with you?
Oh, busy, busy. My father died, I've had the estates to manage.
I'm member of parliament for the district as well.
But you're still turning to practical ends
those powers with which amazed us at college.
Yes, I'm still living by my wits. And how is the dear wife?
I'm not married, Holmes.
How wise!
(Brunton) And the windows date from 1596.
The manor is thought to be the oldest inhabited building in the country.
- I once knew some northern Musgraves. - They came from the north originally.
A cadet branch of the family broke away from the northern Musgraves
and came to West Sussex in the early 17th century.
(Dinner gong)
Holmes!
(Water splashing)
Holmes.
(Sneezing)
(Holmes chuckling)
Ah! (Chuckles)
- More brandy, sir? - No, Brunton.
Well, that's how the story goes.
But the commission is over here, signed by Prince Rupert.
It's for my ancestor Ralph Musgrave,
who joined his cavalry troop at Edgehill.
Rupert's seal and commission, Holmes.
Astonishing.
- One of the boots worn that day. - Ah!
- If I may be so bold, sir. - Hmm?
The boot was worn by his brother, Sir Roland Musgrave, at Naseby.
Oh, was it, indeed?
My butler was once a schoolmaster.
I must bow to his scholarship over mine in matters of my own family's history.
No, no, never mind. You may leave us now.
Er... Brunton, w-what...
- Where is Rachel tonight? - She has a slight distemper, sir.
I told her to go to her room.
Good night, gentlemen.
(Holmes snorts)
Holmes... Holmes has told me of Brunton's extraordinary gifts.
I remember on my last visit
he spent several hours explaining to me in French...
(Holmes laughing)
...the origins of the piccolo.
It is wonderful that he should've been satisfied for so long
with such a position.
(Watson chuckling)
But I suppose he's been comfortable and...
lacked the energy to make a change.
Oh, yes, indeed.
The butler of Hurlstone.
It's a thing that is remembered by all who visit us.
Oh, dear, Musgrave! I...
However, this paragon does have one fault.
- Bit of a Don Juan. - (Laughing)
It's not a difficult part to play in a quiet country district.
When he was married he was all right
but since he's been a widower, we've had no end of trouble.
'We thought he might be settling down
'when he became engaged to Rachel, my housemaid,
'but he's thrown her over, taken up with Janet, my gamekeeper's daughter.
'Rachel's a very good girl but she is of an excitable Welsh temperament.
'Now she wanders around like a black-eyed shadow,
'thoroughly unsettling the household.'
Rachel?
(Melancholy melody)
(CIock chimes)
Good morning, Holmes. Sir Reginald.
- (Coughing) - Shh!
Thank you.
- Where's Brunton this morning? - (Clattering)
- I'm sorry, I'm sorry. - It's all right.
It's all right.
The girl is fainting, Watson!
- Oh! - 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 and lie down.
And on your way, tell Brunton that I wish to see him.
(Rachel) The butler's gone.
Gone? Gone where?
He's not in his room. No one's seen him.
Oh, he has, yes. He's gone. Gone.
(Sobbing)
It's all right.
It's all right. Gently.
(Rachel screaming with grief)
- Gently or you'll break her arm. - Gently! Gently!
- (Rachel sobbing) - (Watson) Gently, Rachel. It's all right.
Gently, Rachel, gently.
Gently.
(Yawning)
The bed's not been slept in. Have you searched the house?
From cellar to garret. The girl's right - he's gone.
Difficult to see how he could have left.
I mean, the windows and doors are all fastened.
What man leaves all his possessions behind - money, watch?
Well, I've given the girl something to calm her down
and I've sent for a local nurse - she's in a most unusual nervous state
and should on no account be left alone.
This is the girl who was engaged to Brunton?
- Rachel Howells, yes. - A girl with a fiery Welsh temper.
- Oh, Watson. - Well, gentlemen,
I have no intention that this incident should ruin your weekend.
I propose we continue our plans for a shoot
and we'll return, hopefully, to some... some simple explanation.
(Holmes laughs)
Ah!
Come on, come on.
(Watson) Holmes!
Well done, Watson.
Holmes... Holmes, I was telling Watson,
something happened last night that may throw some light on this matter.
This is very embarrassing but I...
I find I need your advice.
I couldn't sleep after taking that cup of café noir after dinner.
'And about two o'clock, I gave up the struggle.
'I came down to fetch a novel I'm reading which I'd left in the library.
'You can imagine my surprise when I saw a glimmer of light
'coming from the open door.
'I'd extinguished the lamp and closed the door when we retired.
'Naturally my first thought was of 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 bear disgrace.
I've always proud of 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's sake,
let me give you notice and leave in a month of my own free will.
- A month... 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!
I... 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. 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? Oh, no, no, no. She lives with her father on the other side of the lake.
Besides, I doubt if she'd have the wit to help him.
This... piece of paper
which Brunton thought it worth his while to consult,
even at the risk of losing his job...
It's nothing. It's nothing of any importance at all.
Nevertheless.
(Musgrave) It's simply a copy of the old observance called the Musgrave Ritual,
a ceremony which each Musgrave has to go through on his coming of age.
It's a strange catechism.
Undated but written in the style of the middle of the 17th century.
Would you and Watson be good enough to read it out to me?
(Musgrave) Doctor, I know it by heart.
(Watson) Whose was it? (Musgrave) 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.
That's a treasure hunt.
No, no. I remember as children we often tried to solve it. It leads nowhere.
Could Brunton has seen this before last night?
It's possible. We took no pains to hide it.
- But what could he want with it? - He was refreshing his memory.
You say that he had some map or chart
which he thrust into his pocket when you appeared?
That's what it looked like.
Yes. We must re-examine this ritual.
The measurements refer to some exact spot
to which the rest of the document alludes.
- We're given two guides. - Yes. An elm and an oak.
Then, gentlemen, there is a patriarch among oaks.
- Certainly the oldest oak on the estate. - (Thunder)
It must have been here at the time of the Norman Conquest.
(Musgrave) But it can't be the oak referred to, Holmes.
Generations of Musgraves have dug up half this field.
You're right, Musgrave. This is not the oak referred to in the ritual.
Are there any other large oaks nearby?
Not within a mile of the house.
"Where was the sun?"
"Over the oak."
(Watson) You'll make nothing of it today, old man, the weather's turned.
(Birds screeching and hooting)
(Wings flapping)
(Screeching intensifies)
(Rachel) No! No!
No! No!
(Screaming) No! No!
- Morning, sir. - Morning, Tregallis.
(Musgrave) It's eight foot deep, here. Poor demented girl.
We must live in hope. There's been no body found yet.
(Tregallis) Nothing so far, sir. We've just about covered all of it.
(Man) Found something!
What does it contain?
- (Sighs) Nothing of value. - It could have been there for a long time.
No, recently or the water would've rotted the bag.
The maid last night?
Well, it would explain her journey to the mere but then...
where did she go?
(Watson) Pff! There's nothing here, Holmes!
It's just a mass of rusted and discoloured metal.
And some pebbles.
And where is Brunton? Or Rachel?
And why should anybody bother to throw this into the lake?
There are not three mysteries here but only one
and the solution of one may prove the solutions of the others.
Brunton saw something in this which escaped your forebears,
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.
"Where was the sun? Over the oak?
"Where was the shadow?
"Under the elm."
- So this is where they grew? - Yes.
I suppose you can't tell me how high it was?
I can give you that at once. It was 64 feet.
It was my old tutor. Used to give me lessons in trigonometry.
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... what are you doing here?
- Enjoying the evening, sir. - This is my private lawn.
Pardon me for asking, sir, the elm that stood here that was struck by lightning.
You wouldn't remember the height of it, would you, sir?
- Why should you want to know that? - I'm arguing with Mr Tregallis about it.
I say it was 50 feet, he puts it higher. We've a small wager on it.
Oh, well, you've lost your wager, Brunton.
It was 64 feet.
Ah, was it?
I shall just have to be a good sport and pay up, then.
Thank you, sir.
- Holmes! - Yes!
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.
That'll be difficult with the elm no longer there.
Well, 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 er...
- I don't quite follow this. - Ah, splendid!
- Musgrave! - Every rod in the house.
Thank you.
Measuring stick, please, Watson.
Would you hold that, Musgrave, please? And that.
Now, will you take the last yard of the string and tie it to the base of the rod?
Yes. And then 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 simple.
If a rod of six feet throws a shadow of nine feet,
- the tree of 64 feet will throw one of? - 98.
- 96. - Yes, of course.
And the line of one, of course, would be the line of the other.
- Watson, look! Two inches from mine. - The mark made by Brunton.
Now, read out the steps.
West, eight by eight.
- Sixty-four! - Er... 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 for years.
"And under..."
Holmes!
You've forgotten the "and under".
Is there a cellar under here?
As old as the house.
(Water dripping)
There's wood all over the floor down...
That's Brunton's muffler, I'd swear to it.
Watson!
(Stone scraping)
Inspector, this is a friend, Dr 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 his person, sir?
None.
- Accident, then. - Oh, there's no doubt about it.
He must have been down there alone and the flagstone just fell shut on him.
Sir Reginald, I'm told that your butler
was in a 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.
No one would have heard his cries in that part of the house, that is the point.
(Screaming)
- Tregallis! - Rachel! She done it! She killed him.
- That's why she run away. - Tregallis.
- Rachel? - It's nothing, 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.
When 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 wretched...
I must confess
that so far I am disappointed in my investigation.
I had reckoned upon solving the matter once I had found this place
but now that I'm here...
I am as far as ever from knowing what it was
your family concealed with such elaborate precautions.
You have solved my mystery of Brunton.
But how -
how did his fate come upon him?
What part has been played by the woman who has disappeared?
I, um... I should explain Holmes' methods in such cases.
He... he puts himself in the man's place,
having first gauged his intelligence.
Then 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.
(Holmes) 'He knows something is concealed.
'He's spotted the place.
'He's 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, for all her show of hate.'
Shh!
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,
there never has been, you know that.
It's this house, it... eats into your soul.
Let me take you away from here, start afresh.
Your promises!
Oh, Richard, you make them so freely.
You've never loved me.
(Sobs)
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?
The world is out there calling us, my love.
And how do we get out there with no money?
We can have all the money we need.
I've found something in this house all the squires have missed.
Now I've found it and I'm ready to go.
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, pick up that wood. 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 has lain there for two centuries.
- Are we going to steal it? - How can you steal
- what nobody knows exists? - How did you know then?
Brains, my girl - history and mathematics.
Here, hold the light for me.
Bring the light closer.
Make our fortune?!
Oh, yes, that's a fine promise.
Quiet! There must be some value in it.
Oh, clever are you?
Oh, pride, more like. Oh, better than your masters.
- Quiet, woman. - I know your cleverness.
Husband? You just needed me to help you.
If that'd been treasure, you'd have been off without me.
You'd have gone with her!
You're a fool if you believe that.
(Wood scrapes as it shifts)
Here, take this.
Now help me out of here.
Rachel!
Rachel! My love!
Get help!
(Gasping) I can't breathe.
Get Mr Holmes.
Quickly!
Please, my love! Don't go!
Oh, God. Don't leave!
Rachel!
Rachel! Help!
Rachel, help me!
(Whimpering) Rachel!
Rachel! Don't leave!
Hence her blanched face and fevered brain
at breakfast the next morning.
- Nothing but fungi. - But what was in the box, Holmes?
- It's Charles I. - We may find something else of his.
The bag that was fished from the mere.
Gentlemen, look.
(Watson) It's a jewel.
- Family heirloom? - It's possible.
Your ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave, was he a prominent Cavalier?
Indeed. He was close to Charles II in his wanderings during the Commonwealth.
Then I think that should give us the last link that we wanted.
Gentlemen, you must bear in mind, when the royal party were driven into exile,
they left most of their most precious possessions buried behind them,
with the intention of returning for them in more peaceful times.
Gold, Musgrave.
Watson, I believe you have in your hand a relic
which is not only of great intrinsic value
but also of great importance as a historical curiosity.
Well, what is it?
Nothing less...
than a fragment of the ancient crown of the kings of England.
- (Watson) The crown?! - No, no, Holmes, it's too fanciful.
Now consider the ritual. How does it run?
- "Whose was it?" - (Watson) "His who is gone."
That was the execution of Charles.
And then, "Who shall have it?"
(Musgrave) "He who will come."
That was Charles II, whose advent was already foreseen.
Then can I think be no doubt, gentlemen, that this battered and shapeless diadem
once encircled the brows of the royal Stuarts.
But how came it to my family?
(Holmes) 'When Charles I was executed,
'the crown was seized, broken into pieces,
'and sold for 1,000 guineas.
'Since then, there has been no trace of it.
'Until now.'
- 'But why did Charles not get it back? ' - 'That may never be answered.'
When your ancestor died,
by some oversight, he left this guide to his descendant
without ever explaining the meaning of it.
Father to son.
Until at last, it came within reach of a man who tore its secret out of it.
And lost his life in the venture.
(Echoing) Rachel!
Rachel!
(Watson) Was it chance the wood slipped? Was she only guilty of silence?
She had a passionate Celtic soul,
the man had wronged her, she had him in her power -
might it not have been vengeance that sent the stone crashing?
Her hand that dashed it away?
And what has become of her?
(Holmes) Very probably she is far away from Hurlstone now
and carries her secret with her.
(Ducks quacking)
(Water bubbling)
(Piercing scream)
(Clatter of birds' wings)