(birds squawking)
My brothers get to swim here every day.
They're so lucky.
(bird squawking)
There are horses that won't be tamed.
(loud clomping)
I saw a wild brumby once being rounded up.
He was beautiful.
(horse sputters)
He refused to get caught.
He just ran and ran
and ran straight off the escarpment.
Did he gallop through the air?
No, silly.
He crashed to his death.
(horse neighing echoes)
It's all right.
He was free.
Like us.
Right now.
(indistinct chatter, laughter)
Oy! Boots!
Hello, love.
Hey, it's not all about speed, boys.
Hey, it's no luck if it happens every time.
- What's for lunch? I'm starving. - MOTHER: We're having stew.
All right, all right, sit down for dinner.
- Come on. Go and sit down. - That's it.
- Where's its mother? - (squeaking)
MOTHER: Enough of that. Sit down!
They probably shot her for dog meat.
Oh, no need for that.
What is wrong with you lately?
Nothing's wrong with me.
(bird squawking)
(laughs) - I want to take him back to school with me.
- (squeaks) - (laughs softly)
(knocking, door opens)
Get out there!
Do you know how expensive those corsets are?
I'm not going back.
You girls are lucky.
MAN: To be going to school at all.
WOMAN: Sara's had a lovely visit.
Don't you dare go spoiling her last night.
Sorry.
(kangaroo whimpers)
(bird squawking)
Show her your hands.
She won't make you go back to school.
No.
That... would be weak.
(Miranda gasps)
You need an education...
so you can marry up.
(Miranda gasps softly)
(gasps)
(kangaroo chatters)
Repeat after me.
I'll see you next Christmas.
It's a promise then?
(Miranda's mother laughs softly)
We're sisters now.
Safe trip.
Now you listen to me. You're strong.
You're stronger than your brothers.
This school's nothing you can't handle.
I belong here.
No, you don't, love.
You just don't know it yet. That's all.
This isn't a place for ladies.
Go on.
(horse sputters)
There you go.
- (engine revving) - (clock ticking)
(women screaming)
Miss Quade!
Miss Leopold!
(women screaming)
Miss Leopold!
We're here!
- Please come through. - Thank you.
I am so sorry to wake you up.
No. No worries.
He went to Melbourne.
He was supposed to be back last night, but...
He's probably just tying one on
with the boys from Russell Street.
I can wait alone if you want to get back to bed.
Please, no. I can't sleep anyway.
Moi non plus.
Mrs. Valange, our former drawing mistress...
I know Mrs. Valange.
Husband ran off, left her high and dry.
Oui.
She said that after a calamity,
the people who remain dream each other's dreams.
(clock ticking)
Why are you dressed at this hour?
The place is a pigsty.
Well, you were supposed to come over on your half days,
but you got too important.
I'm sorting out this mess, and then I am going home
first thing.
(laughs) That palace of allurements is not your home.
This is where you belong.
When did you last read the Good Book...
- Okay. - ...brother mine?
I am the Good Book!
Wha...
Why are you poking around in my suitcase, Reg?
- What's this? - I don't know what it is.
I found it in Miss McCraw's treasure box, Reg.
And I'm keeping it safe for her
until she comes back.
They've led you astray.
No. No, I think
you're the one with the dirty mind.
Tell me what it is.
It's the Devil's Crucifix!
- No. It's... - Stay out of my way.
No, don't, Reg. It is driftwood! It's from her...
- It's all right. - I'm keeping it safe
till she comes back. No!
I should never have listened to you.
I should have gone to that picnic.
(scoffs)
I should have gone.
Then I would have made sure none of this ever happened.
Hand of God.
Reg?
Have you been to the Hanging Rock?
I have.
I have indeed.
Did you do something
to those girls, I wonder?
No. You couldn't have done anything.
- They'd be much too strong for you! - Hey!
(groans) No!
DORA: Put it out quick! Quick!
Stamp it out, Dora. Kick it out with your feet. - Stomp it.
Stomp it.
It's burning!
(yelling)
(indistinct shouting)
(shouting continues)
(bird squawking)
(coughing)
(sighs)
He's never seen a burned body before.
This bloody place.
It's unraveled my mind.
I know less than I did on the day they went missing.
You white fellas.
He's been here a long time, this Rock.
We been here a long time.
You... you only been here this once.
Long time, many time, you can know this Rock.
So tell me what he's saying then, this Rock.
They up there?
You know where they are?
You reckon I'd leave 'em there?
No, of course not.
This Rock... he got no time.
(sighs)
Sarg...
you go home now.
(bird squawks)
♪ ♪
(groans)
(screams)
(panting)
I'll find you!
And I'll gut you like a sow!
(indistinct chatter)
(train whistle blowing)
(horse sputters)
Only four pence a tin. Appleyard hand soap.
Here, ma'am. Try some Appleyard hand soap.
Four pence a tin, Appleyard hand soap.
Doing absolute wonders on your hands.
Try it once, you'll be buying it
for your skin. Skin nice and soft.
Appleyard hand soap.
Made here by Mrs. Appleyard.
(wind whistling)
(echoing laughter)
MARION: Tell us about the bushrangers again,
- Mr. Whitehead. - WHITEHEAD: Hmm?
If they had secret lairs on the Hanging Rock,
they must have had escape routes, as well.
In the old days,
you had to go right past the Rock
in order to get from the gold fields
to the royal treasury in Melbourne.
Well, those bushrangers were waiting.
And they were cruel men. Oh.
And they'd hang their victims from trees,
just bleeding there for the wild dogs.
(groans)
They were eaten alive?
Mm-hmm.
My brother and I, the two of us, we...
...we found a man's ribs hanging from a sapling.
So you've been there?
The Hanging Rock?
(birds squawking)
(flies buzzing)
♪ ♪
Leave Sara alone...
or I'll tell everyone
you got your name off a soap tin.
Gossip's like a wildfire.
Once it gets started...
Christ! You frightened me.
Mr. Whitehead, are you unwell?
Come.
♪ ♪
Go away.
♪ ♪
(bell ringing)
(train whistle blows)
(speaks softly)
Sergeant. Sergeant!
Proof for you to hold in your hand.
Sara's suitcase was hidden under Mrs. Appleyard's bed.
Where have you been?
We were up all night.
- Are you drunk? - No, love.
We've been at the fire all night.
There's been a tragedy.
The Lumleys. Both gone.
- MADEMOISELLE: Oh, mon dieu. - Mademoiselle de Poitiers?
Monsieur Cosgrove.
Bonjour. I thought it was you.
I've been reading about the college mystery.
You must tell me everything.
This is Sara's guardian.
I'm ashamed to admit that I forgot
all about Easter. Most un-Christian.
Uh, in my defense, my secretary, poor chap,
is in the throes of a malarial fever,
and without him, I'm as much use
- as an upturned tortoise. - MADEMOISELLE: Go.
Go!
APPLEYARD: This stops. Now.
My brother lies in a nameless grave.
With the sinners for all eternity.
May God forgive him, he took his own life.
You think that's what Sara did?
Well, she deserves a proper burial.
Better to say... she fell.
Th-That it was an accident.
That's right, Mr. Whitehead.
It was an accident.
I told the wrong lie.
♪ ♪
Where's Mrs. Appleyard?
(stammers)
There's been an accident.
(horse trotting)
Sara. Where were you going at this hour?
To meet someone?
I think so.
Else why would you set out alone in the dark?
You're afraid of the dark.
We're both afraid of the dark.
Where are they?!
Marion! McCraw!
Miranda!
Stick stock stone dead,
man in the mirror makes three.
Every knave shall have his slave,
you or I must be she.
Miranda says there are horses wild.
Miranda says they won't let you near.
Miranda says they know who you are.
Where is Miranda?
Do you even know?
You haven't got a clue.
Miranda didn't tell you anything.
Yes, she did. They made a vow.
What kind of vow?
(horse neighs)
(birds squawking)
(indistinct chatter)
Madam, if it's a memorial you're after,
please accept our condolences.
But if it's a mantel or a plinth,
may I be the first to congratulate you.
(chuckles) Hester.
Ah, mantelpieces and tombstones.
(chuckles) Just stuff of life.
Where is he?
Who's that?
I know he's behind all this.
The missing girls.
The heiress sent back to torment me.
(laughs)
You're not making any sense.
You've always been Arthur's fart catcher.
Tell him I want to see him. Now.
No, no, Ar-Arthur's gone.
Uh, no, no, he-he, uh, he never made it.
After you scarpered.
The surgeon took his arm off.
But it was, well...
it was too late.
You removed the bullet.
- I saw it. - Yeah, I did, I did.
I removed it with a, uh, with a chisel.
Sharp as a scalpel.
But...
he got himself infected.
You saw him?
Dead.
Yeah, I saw it.
It was pitiful, but...
yeah, I saw it through.
You're telling me my Arthur's gone?
I am, yeah. He is.
Before I even set foot on this dirt?
Did he say anything? Did he ask for me?
I think he...
I think he was too busy dying.
(horse neighs)
Look, I'm going to, uh,
open a bottle of cognac.
Been waiting for an excuse.
Arrêtez!
I should've listened.
You did all you could.
The plain fact is...
that Sara was my responsibility.
MADEMOISELLE: You are all blind.
Look at this house.
Can't you see it's just a dream?
Why did we all believe?
(Mademoiselle sniffles)
This... is something real.
A child.
Lâchez-moi!
She's my child now!
We will not be parted again until she's in the arms of God.
(Mademoiselle sniffles)
There were two riders.
I thought one was Arthur.
They'd hoisted the girls.
To scare me or...
ruin me.
We're in the sunshine now, darling.
Free.
Free all this time.
Tell me this... if Arthur's dead...
then where are they?
Where are my girls?
♪ ♪
MIRANDA: Good?
- Yep. - (chuckles)
Where does your guardian live when he's not being a nomad?
A flat in London.
But it's not for living in.
It's for keeping the family portraits.
(both laugh)
Do you like him?
Yes.
He speaks to me as if I'm clever.
As if I'm a boy with spectacles.
Irma says his coat smells of Guerlain.
She says he's a sophisticate,
that I should follow him to exotic places
and ride behind him on a camel.
Because she can see he wouldn't mind.
If things got really bad, do you think you could confide in him?
Not today.
- No. - No.
(Miranda laughs)
- Today's our picnic. - Yes.
- Today is going to be stupendous. - (laughs)
Mm-hmm.
(exhales)
(quietly): Happy Saint Valentine's Day.
Back to your room.
Before someone sees you.
You are a child and I'm your teacher.
(crying): It's me, isn't it?
What I am.
No, Marion...
♪ ♪
(Mademoiselle and Dora speaking French)
♪ ♪
(birds squawking)
♪ ♪
(birds chirping)
Get down, Miss Reid.
(sighs)
Where are your gloves?
I don't need them anymore.
I know how unhappy you've been.
The time with us will pass quickly.
Try to make the best of it.
You girls still have each other.
That won't always be the case.
You're the one who's sad, miss.
Not me.
We're here.
At last, we've escaped.
Miranda.
I'm not like you.
I can't live in between.
I'd rather be dead.
(girls laughing)
♪ ♪
IRMA: What a vile place.
MIRANDA: If you stopped looking down at your feet,
and looked around instead...
I'd trip over and break my neck.
Don't be a goose.
It feels alive.
It's primitive and untidy.
Once you've seen something of the world, Miranda...
the great gardens and parks... you'll understand.
(Miranda chuckles) - There must be balance and order,
or there can be no beauty.
There is balance and order here.
Only if you're a savage.
I...
(stones falling)
(creaking)
The Fitzhubert nephew is following us.
Imagine Mama's face if I was to end up married
to someone entirely suitable.
I'd like to see that.
To be happy,
instead of chastened and begging for forgiveness.
How furious she'd be.
Why do you have to go back?
You could stay here with me and Marion.
That's true. We could all live in a suite at the Menzies.
We could ride camels.
We could sail to America.
(birds squawking)
(girls laughing)
This is my idea of bliss.
(birds singing)
If only we could stay out all night and watch the moon rise.
And be away from that rat of a Lumley and her spying eye.
(laughs)
Blanche says Miss Lumley only cleans her teeth on Sundays.
For Jesus.
Who's that?
She says Sara writes love poems in the dunnie.
To Miranda.
Poor stray puss.
I hope she's all right.
(wind whistling)
IRMA: Sara reminds me of a little deer Papa brought home.
The same big, frightened eyes.
Mama said it couldn't survive in captivity.
- Did it? - No.
It was doomed.
Doomed? What does that mean, Irma?
Doomed to die, of course.
Just like you, Edith, little glutton.
- (laughs) - Don't, Irma.
(laughs)
Come on.
I want to go back.
We have to stick together now.
Or you might get lost.
And find a skeleton tied to a tree.
- Ooh, ooh, ooh. - (laughing)
(gasps)
(wind whistling)
(panting)
(echoes): Wait. Wait, wait, wait...
(wind whistling, whispering voices)
♪ ♪
I am doomed.
Tummy hurts.
IRMA: They look like ants.
Whatever can they be doing?
- (clanging) - Miranda!
So many ants.
Why is it so hot?
Do we have to go to the very top?
Yes.
For the vow to work.
♪ ♪
We should make a vow.
A sacred vow.
To our secret selves.
(gasping)
(hisses)
(shuddering breath)
(grunts)
♪ ♪
(panting)
♪ ♪
(whooshing, rumbling)
(distorted shouting in distance)
(panting softly)
(panting)
McCRAW (echoing): Wait.
(whooshing, rumbling)
(whispering voices)
♪ ♪
(whooshing, rumbling)
Miranda?
(exhales)
Miranda?
(pants)
(gasps)
(echoing): Miranda?
(distorted screaming)
(rumbling)
(echoing): Miranda.
MARION: Do we have to say it out loud?
MIRANDA: Never surrender.
♪ ♪
(exhaling)
(shouts)
(grunts)
♪ ♪
(chuckling)
This isn't a game.
(gasps)
Scaredy-cat
from Ballarat,
went to school
and got the strap.
(chuckles)
You're mad.
♪ ♪
Stop it, Miri!
(footfalls approaching)
(gasping)
(footfalls continue)
Who is that?
(whooshing, rumbling)
(footfalls continue)
♪ ♪
APPLEYARD: A vow.
What vow?
A new beginning or an end.
Darkness spreads.
It gets everywhere.
It was her all along.
The widow.
Why, Mrs. Appleyard...
you're she.
(wind whistling)