(She gasps and cries out)
Ah'. Ah'.
Is there to be nothing? Are we to have nothing from the spirits tonight?
I'm sorry, Lady Dattering,
but...there is a presence which is hostile to a manifestation.
If you'll allow me...
Oh, Peter. Come, join hands, take part.
One can't expect a manifestation with you glooming there behind me.
I'm sorry, Mama.
Next time, I may.
Shall I draw back the curtains?
You wouldn't object if I were to invite a guest?
(Bells toll)
- Justin? - Peter.
I thought I'd find you here.
I was wondering, will you come to a séance
at my mother's house as my guest?
Dear lad, I'm interested in all forms of the higher silliness.
I shall be delighted to come.
- May one ask...? - Why?
With what object?
I rely on your friendship perhaps too much.
No, no.
And then, your being a clergyman helps,
even though you're such a very rational clergyman, Justin.
Christianity is a rational system of belief, Peter.
(Peter) Mama won't accept my father's death.
I fear she finds me a most inadequate substitute.
I am to convince her of your true worth, then?
You have such a clear mind. I know she will respect it.
(Justin) Hmm.
- Can you construe this? - Oh, you needn't fear for my Latin.
I shan't disgrace you.
"Verum usque in praesentem diem multa garriunt inter se Canonici
"de abscondito quodam istius Abbatis Thomae thesauro... "
"Up to the present day, there is much gossip among the Canons
"concerning a certain hidden treasure of this Abbot Thomas."
What Abbot Thomas?
Of this foundation. He died rather suddenly in 1429.
It's said that he escaped burning by being carried off by the devil.
Why burning?
He was an alchemist, one might almost say a magician.
Not at all a suitable occupation for a 15th-century churchman.
A charlatan, anyway. Please continue.
"Ipsum enim Thomam adhuc florida in aetate existentem..."
(He continues reading)
The story is that Thomas, while yet in the...
...vigour of life,
concealed a very large mass of gold somewhere in the monastery.
He was often asked where it was and he always answered with a laugh,
"Bartholomew, Jude, Simon and Matthias
"will tell either you or your successors."
- You're treasure hunting'. - Of course not.
The gold of Abbot Thomas,
if it ever existed, is likely to be very base coin by now.
But his rule at the monastery falls within the period of my studies.
I find the old fellow rather interesting. Such an obvious fraud.
Peter...
(Peter) Mother, this is the Reverend Mr Somerton.
My mother, Lady Dattering.
(Justin) I am most honoured.
(Peter) Miss Punch-Highcliffe, Mrs Tyson,
Mr Tyson.
The Reverend Mr Somerton is my tutor at Oriel, Mother.
I have spoken of him often.
Very often, Mr Somerton. Peter has great admiration for you.
I'm sure he would fail in all his examinations
if it were not for your assistance.
Petits fours, Janet? Or slab cake?
Well, I think I'd rather...
(Lady Dattering) Slab cake. Peter, dear?
You undervalue your son, Lady Dattering, if I may say so.
Lord Dattering's in very little need of my assistance or any other.
I believe him to be one of the most able young men of his generation.
Pray, allow me.
For Mrs Tyson?
My wife will have the slab cake, Lady Dattering.
(Lady Dattering) Slab cake.
(Mr Tyson) And I also will have the slab cake.
(Justin) If you'll forgive me, I shall not have slab cake.
A cup of tea will suffice, with no sugar.
(Mr Tyson) Oriel...?
Are you interested in birds?
College, Oxford.
Oriel. Oriel College'.
You're a man of the cloth.
Most fellows of Oxford or Cambridge colleges are in holy orders, Mr Tyson.
Oh, indeed? Indeed, yes.
It's really most kind of you to ask me for tea.
I'm in pursuit of some research in the locality
and have taken lodgings in the town, but I confess I leap at distraction.
After tea, Lord Dattering tells me there's to be a séance.
That will be my part, mine and my wife's.
We share the gift jointly.
Mr and Mrs Tyson have been good enough while they are my guests.
Guests?
The dower house is unoccupied at present.
Mr and Mrs Tyson are good enough to make it their home,
at my mother's request.
We have a séance almost every evening after tea.
- The results have been startling. - Oh, most startling, yes.
My wife and I both share the gift.
We are blessed.
Though we are not in holy orders, sir,
or any other order, as far as I know,
but we have some...
congress with the hereafter.
You would have been burned, I fear,
as witches in the period I am studying.
But these are more enlightened times, are they not, Miss Punch-Highcliffe?
(High-pitched twittering)
(Mrs Tyson) Oh, it's Father Dominic.
(Peter) It's often Father Dominic. (Justin) And he is?
(Mrs Punch) A spirit guide. (Justin) Ah'.
(Lady Dattering) Father Dominic was chaplain at this house
during the Wars of the Roses.
He was exceedingly fond of birds.
There is an aviary by the lower garden,
Father Dominic's aviary.
Whenever he comes to us at a séance,
he is accompanied by the spirits of the air
and they sing like birds.
He, er...he speaks to you?
He brings messages from my dear husband.
Do many people outside the family know of Father Dominic's aviary?
Oh, yes.
It is in "Lovell's Guide To The Historic Houses Of Wiltshire And Somerset".
(Mr Tyson) Ssh'.
(Mrs Punch) But now we must be very quiet, I fear.
Mrs Tyson is about to undergo possession.
(Laboured breathing)
(Twittering intensifies)
(Silence)
(Disembodied voice) 'Good evening, my children.'
(Lady Dattering) Good evening, Father.
Have you any message for us?
'I bring words of comfort and joy, my child.'
From...?
'From someone who is still near you.'
(Muttering in Latin)
(Justin) Lady Dattering, may I speak to the good Father,
as one clergyman to another?
Well...
Father, may I ask when you were alive?
'There is no death, my son.
'There is...eternal life.'
Of course, but in your earthly body in this house,
how long ago was that?
'Time is an illusion, my son.'
Oh, 400 years ago?
'You may say so.'
(He speaks Latin)
Est-ce que vous avez jamais...
(Voice whispers in Latin)
... pour la plus grande gloire de Dieu,
celebré la Messe dans la chapelle particulière de ce château?
How strange, that a priest of that time who must have spoken Latin
and Norman French better than he spoke English
should now understand neither language.
If you'll excuse me, you have a frog in your throat, I think.
Hmm, ingenious.
There are your spirits of the air, Lady Dattering.
I'm afraid your Mr Sludge is quite discomforted.
The name's Tyson.
My reference was to a poem by Browning.
(Peter) Of course'.
Bartholomew, Jude, Simon and Matthias.
You'll find them all together in the east window of Gravely Church,
the church on the water.
You can see why they call it the church on the water.
(Sobbing) Am I never to hear from my dear man again?
(Peter) I thought you were all for science.
Photography does not yet seem to me
to have become an exact science, I've seen too many blank plates.
It is as well to take precautions.
Bartholomew, Jude, Simon and Matthias, there you are.
30 seconds, I think.
I wish the light in here were better.
I wonder...
Don't!
- I'm so sorry. - Justin!
I wanted to observe the inscriptions on the scrolls more closely.
I can't believe the camera can pick up such detail.
And...
...now you may.
We should expose another plate, I think.
Oh, dear lad, as many as you will.
"Adspicit de caelis ut abscondita videat."
"He looks down from on high... to see what is hidden."
Can that be a text?
- It certainly sounds like one. - Unfamiliar to me.
"Habent in vestimentis suis scripturam quam nemo novit."
"They have on their vestments a writing which no man knoweth."
Well, if that's a text, it's not very edifying.
Not all texts are edifying.
"Super lapidem unum septem oculi sunt."
"Upon one stone are seven eyes."
You really believe, do you not,
that we are on the trail of Abbot Thomas's treasure.
Do you not?
I persuade myself that our outing is in some way valuable
to the general course of my researches.
First, Bartholomew, Jude, Simon and Matthias
will tell either you or your successors
the very words of Abbot Thomas.
Second, I remember where I have seen those four gentleman together,
and third, you yourself discovered that this very parish
lay within the advowson of the abbey.
Hardly a difficult discovery to make.
The same is true of one parish out of three in this part of the county.
In what other parish church in the advowson of the good Abbot Thomas
shall we find Bartholomew, Jude, Simon and Matthias all in one window?
Not the "good" Abbot Thomas, Peter.
That was never suggested, not even by himself.
(Fluttering)
I have something to show you.
The photographs? Were we not to meet later for a grilled chop at my lodgings...?
It's something odd, surprising.
Surprising and odd?
Yes, I see it will not wait.
But do try, if you please, to lower your voice, Peter.
I am a guest in this library.
There's nobody in the other base, please look at these'.
(Justin) Mmm. Yes, very clear and accurate.
Perhaps the detail on my drawing is a little clearer.
(Peter) I think your own drawing will not contain this detail.
(Justin) Oh, a blemish.
Yes, you mustn't blame yourself.
A smear, some form of impurity on the coating of the plate.
No more. You see, it's not on the other.
No, it is not. I thought it was a blemish in the window itself...
Ssh'.
But as you say, it is not on the other plate, nor on your drawing, I wager.
Will you please look at the blemish again, Justin?
- Does it remind you of anything? - No particular thing.
A face of some sort, perhaps.
(Peter) Look at the scroll.
"Adspicit de caelis ut abscondita videat."
"He looks down from on high to see what is hidden."
Will you look again at the blemish?
"He looks down from on high to see what is hidden."
Are you still not reminded of anything?
I have no head for heights.
Thank you. Thank you.
I'll look for it.
By all means.
- (Flapping) - Ah!
- What's the matter? - I don't know.
Something seemed to come at me.
(Peter) Well, there's nothing there now.
Here, come this way.
"He looks down from on high
"to see what is hidden."
The culvert, however, is some hundreds of yards long.
All the better as a hiding place.
One could hardly remove every stone. It would be cemented in.
"Super lapidum unum septem oculi sunt."
"Upon one stone are seven eyes."
One could hardly examine every stone for seven eyes. It would be...
Noticed.
Peter, you misunderstand my motives.
I do not expect, even if we find what is hidden, that it will be treasure.
Alchemy, the transmutation of base metals into gold,
was a delusion like many other delusions of that time.
Oh'.
We are not entered into this investigation
for any motive of gain or greed.
I had thought of... scientific inquiry.
If I were thought by my host here, by...
by anyone to be a mere treasure hunter...
- Your reputation as a scholar? - Exactly.
- Fatally compromised. - Exactly.
(Peter) My sincere apologies.
Allow me.
(Justin) Well, we have not yet considered the second scroll.
"They have on their vestments a writing which no man knoweth."
They have no writing on their vestments at all.
No.
Has it occurred to you, however,
that there is a curiously broad black band on the edge of the cope?
E-D-M-O-O-M
S-V-I-V.
Ed-mooms-viv?
It makes no sense at all.
(Justin) Well, it's a code. Clearly a cryptogram or code.
(Peter) Then we must work it out.
D-R...
...E...
...V...
...I...
...C...
The first figure, one finger in the air.
The second, two fingers.
The third, three fingers.
After the first letter, miss one,
then two, then three, then back to one again.
"Decem...
"milla...
"milia."
2,000 pieces...
"Auri."
Of gold'.
"Depos...
"Deposita.
"Deposita sunt."
Are deposited.
There can't be as much as 2,000 pieces.
That would be, um...
By today's valuation, that would be...
Coins of that antiquity...
10 thou? 20 thou?
Yes, something of that nature.
It says here that he set a guardian over the treasure.
"Gare a qui la touche."
(Metallic banging)
Six, seven,
eight, nine, ten...
...15, 16, 17, 18,
19, 20...
...71, 72,
73, 74...
...75, 76,
77.
"Upon one stone are seven eyes."
(Whispering in Latin)
(Hammering)
(Rasping breath)
(Justin screams)
(Manic laughter)
(Jangling of coins)
(Rasping and squelching)
(Bell tolls)
- He ain't been out for two days. - Is he ill?
I can't say, my lord.
He ain't taken a step outside the door,
and he won't let no one in.
He got a table jammed against it, that's my opinion.
(Peter) Justin?
Justin?
- Chemicals is my belief, my lord. - What?
Owing to the unnatural slime on the floor, all over my carpet,
up the stairs, in the front hall.
The doorstep, that had to be scrubbed.
- It's true, there's a smell of mould. - I cleaned it all away yesterday.
And this morning I'll be flabbergasted if it wasn't there again.
- Slime? - Like a snail's.
Chemicals, that's my conviction, leading from under the door.
- Down the stairs and into the hall? - It's not natural, I know that.
Justin, if you are in need of help, please allow me to enter.
(Justin) I'm moving...the table.
That will be all, Mrs Dadge.
I have sat up all night listening.
It makes a curious sound.
But no attempt to enter?
No. A little slime bubbles under the door.
It's a thing of slime, I think.
Darkness and slime. It's an unholy thing.
When dawn comes, the sounds cease and I know it's gone.
It dare not, as I've found, go out.
- And the treasure? - Worthless.
Pieces of lead, iron, bronze.
Various metals, all worthless.
I was right, you see, I was entirely right.
The transmutation of base metals into gold, it's all an illusion.
Yes. Base metals.
It must go back... you must put them back.
- I must? - They must go back'.
I'm sorry, I'm...very sorry, Peter.
My nerves are not good this morning.
But I request...
earnestly...
entreat you, that you yourself put the treasure back.
I dare not go into that place again.
You'll be safe by day, quite safe by day.
I dare not go, Peter...
...even in your company.
"I have set a guardian," the Abbot wrote.
"Gare a qui la touche."
It's a thing of darkness. One would be quite safe by day.
And if it be indeed a guardian, Peter,
it will approve of you putting the treasure back.
Your logic is faultless as always.
Of course I'll do it.
Er...oh, I think...
I think I left a chisel down there.
- Time heals all wounds. - Nonsense.
Time heals some wounds.
No doubt Mr Somerton will be up and about again,
whatever the nature of his mysterious experience.
Nerves, mere nerves.
(Lady Dattering) But my life lost its meaning
when my dear husband died.
(Mrs Punch) But surely Peter is such a comfort to you.
(Lady Dattering) Peter will get married soon and have a family of his own,
and I shall be retired to the dower house
to live out my life in works of charity.
(Mrs Punch) Oh, is that the doctor coming at last?
(Lady Dattering) Not before time. (Justin) I hope it may be he.
We shall leave you alone with him, since we're unlikely to be of any use.
I find it is too chilly for a walk.
These autumn evenings come upon us quickly.
I prefer the open air.
We shall see you later, then.
Come, Peter.