The charge being that you did wilfully and maliciously attack a woman,
namely the wife of your own captain, with intent to assault and murder her,
for which the punishment is the same as that for a traitor.
Namely, that your ears be slit!
No, no!
And your tongue be cut out!
And you be taken to the nearest uninhabited shore
with neither food nor water and left to die.
Mercy! Mercy!
Signed: Captain Clegg, this year of our Lord 1776.
The Romney marshes, flat and desolate,
was the land of a pround and independent people.
Their shores faced the shores of France,
and many was the shipload of wine and brandy
smuggled across the sea in defiance of the king's revenue men.
Many legends have come from this corner of England.
But none so widely believed or widely feared.
As the legend of the marsh phantoms, who rode the land on dark misty nights.
And struck fear into the hearts of all who crossed their paths...
Praise Him that He made the sun
Day by day His course to run
For His mercies aye endure
Ever faithful, ever sure
Praise Him that He gave the rain
To mature the swelling grain
For His mercies aye endure
Ever faithful, ever sure
And hath bid the fruitful field
Crops of precious increase yield
For His mercies aye endure
Ever faithful, ever sure
Gentlemen, this will not do at all. We are gathered here today
to give thanks to our Lord for his bounteous gifts.
Is this the best you can do? Surely not.
I know some of you feel you have precious little to be thankful for,
with taxation what it is,
and war with France more than just a possibility.
But you're wrong. You have your health!
You have enough to eat... more than enough, in some cases.
You have roofs over your heads, fuel for your fires,
a new schoolroom.
A choir that sings in tune.
Sometimes.
And what is more, you haven't any King's men billeted in your homes.
And so my friends, let us have the last verse,
no, the last two verses again.
This time, we will really give thanks, and we'll mean it, shall we?
Are you ready, Mr. Mipps?
Praise him that He gave the rain
To mature the swelling grain
For His mercies aye endure...
Brandon, get ahead with your cutlass.
We've a good hour yet.
He said that parson liked the sound of his own voice.
"And when the Philistines heard"
"that the children of Israel were gathered together to Mizpah, "
"the lords of the Philistines went up against Israel. "
"And when the children of Israel heard it,
they were afraid of the Philistines. "
"And the children of Israel said to Samuel, "
"Cease not to cry unto the Lord our God for us, "
"that he will save us out of the hand of the Philistines. "
"And as Samuel was offering up the burnt offering, "
"the Philistines drew near to battle against Israel. "
"But the Lord thundered with a great thunder on that day upon the Philistines, "
"and discomforted them. "
Timed it just right, Bosun.
Can't think why we didn't come by road instead of this boat caper.
Bosun said they'd be watching for us on the road.
This way we surprise them!
-Right, Bosun! -Forward!
Now, let us sing hymn number 291,
"Oft in Danger, Oft in Woe".
Oft in danger, oft in woe
Onward, Christian, onward go
Bear the toil, maintain the strife...
Right, Bosun!
You know what we're looking for. Pitch to and find it
Brandon and Smee fallout.
I'm going back to the church to make sure none of the flock leaves the fold.
Aye, sir.
-All right? -Yes.
-Good morning, Gentlemen! -We're closed till after church.
-Who says so? -I say so.
Mr. Rash, these gentlemen must have had a long walk.
-Give them a drink. -All right, what do you want?
-Brandy! -This is an alehouse!
-All right then, wine! -We don't keep no fancy French wines.
-The duty is too high. -Don't keep any wine, eh?
We'll have to make sure, won't we, lads?
Now, there's an answer to a sailor's prayer.
What's your name then, my pretty?
-My name's Imogene. -Imogene?
I knew an Imogene once, chased her for two years.
Every time I caught up with her she gave me the slip.
Perhaps you are too rough with your wooing.
Not for that Imogene, she was a three-master.
A pirate ship she was, boy! Flying the black flag of Captain Clegg.
We've got him in our churchyard!
-Who? -Captain Clegg! He's buried there.
You're welcome to him, boy. Very welcome.
Let not sorrow dim your eye
Soon shall every tear be dry
Let not fears your course impede
Great your strength
If great your need
I see I spoke too soon. The King's men are already with us.
If you would care to join us in worship, Captain, you are more than welcome.
First, would you be kind enough to remove your hat.
I would, sir, if I was here in the service of my maker.
But I'm not. In the service of my King I keep it on.
I had prepared a sermon for today on the text:
"Blessed be the Lord my strength"
"who teacheth my hand to war and my fingers to fight".
However, under the circumstances I feel it would be rather inappropriate.
Therefore, I shall suggest that you consider the service finished,
and that you should go straight to your homes.
Well, nothing there, matey.
"Pitch to and find it," he says.
Where? All I can show for my trouble
is splinters in my fingers and corns on my feet.
-My heart bleeds for you. -Who'll pay for this damage?
Why, you are, Mr. Rash. A right thinking taxpayer,
you'd want to stop smuggling. So we're putting a stop to it.
What more compensation do you want than that?
The follow-up party arrived?
Aye sir, but we found nothing.
-What's in there? -Mr. Rash!
It's here somewhere.
Unless that informer, Ketch, was lying, Captain?
He was too frightened to lie. All right, Bosun, fetch your ferret!
AYE, Captain!
Unchain him.
Look at this...
So they've no fancy French wines, eh Captain?
You two! Come in here!
Come on!
-What's this? -A whole in the floor, Captain.
I can see that, fool. What's down there?
Why, the cellar, of course.
-Why the concealed entrance? -Well, it's an old inn.
Get down there!
No secrets here, Captain.
Just tar for the nets, lamp-oil and the like.
-What's in there? -White varnish. For the boats.
-You sure it isn't White Holland's Gin? -Yes.
Open it.
-He was speaking the truth, Captain. -Here, Captain...
Varnish?
Varnish, Captain. Did anyone tell you different?
There's a man here called Ketch. Do you know him?
-That'll be young Tom. -I want to see him.
-Well, that will be... -Take me to him! No arguments!
Very well, Captain.
After you.
This way, Captain.
Have they learned anything?
Only the taste of white varnish so far.
If we don't get rid of everything quick,
they'll learn the taste of brandy and gin!
Listen!
Yes, Captain, I should have told you I was at sea myself for years.
-I sailed round the world three times. -Pirating?
There you go, always suspicious! No, no, I was a ship's carpenter.
A very good one, too. That's where I learned my trade.
It's a bit quiet here after the high jinks at sea, but it has it's points.
-What's down there? -That's the coffin shop.
But Captain, you came here to see Tom Ketch, didn't you?
Tom!
He came in this morning, I haven't had time to touch him up yet.
He was alive last night. How did he die?
He was found floating in one of the ponds on the marshes.
Squire Cobtree found him this morning when he was out riding.
How did he die?
Dr Pepper signed the certificate "natural causes",
but I'd have thought from the look of the poor fellow
that he died of fright.
That's more like unnatural causes, wouldn't you think?
Frightened to death? What by?
He didn't tell us, being dead, but I'd think it was the marsh phantoms.
-The what? -The marsh phantoms.
People around here don't believe in them. They say they don't exist.
That's during the daytime, of course.
At night, if you ask them to go for a walk across the marshes,
they'll have something more important to do,
-like bolting the door and going to bed. -Old wives tales!
I'm sure you know best, Captain.
You say the Squire discovered the body? Where do I find him?
He'll probably be in the church saying his prayers. Shall I take you?
-No, I'll find him. -As you wish.
Thanks, matey.
Are you out of your wits?
Bringing him here, risking all our necks!
I brought him to pay his last respects to the swab that gave us all away.
The late Torn Ketch.
He's off to see the Squire now. He won't be back for some time.
We're getting rid of the stuff.
Wait a minute! That's the best elm.
I don't mind lending my coffins in a good cause,
but I'm not having them smashed up. Lovely a bit of grain.
Throw the liquor in the creek, smash up the kegs, get rid of it.
-By whose orders, Mr. Rash? -By my orders.
-We were told to wait, Rash. -We'll wait so long
we'll have a rope round all our necks. Get rid of it!
Mr. Rash!
Since when have you given orders?
-Well, I thought with all our... -There is no need for you to think!
I think for all of you, is that understood?
-As you say. -Exactly. As I say.
The goods will be delivered tonight in the usual way. At midnight.
-What about the revenue men? -Chances are they'll be gone by then.
Well, supposing they're not gone... I don't like it!
I'm not interested in whether you like it or not, Mr. Rash,
just as long as you do as I tell you.
You've been in this trade long enough
to know we all have to take risks.
He's done very nicely out of it all these years.
Yes, very nicely.
He's taken his fair share and squandered it on food
for those who were hungry and clothes for them that didn't have any.
All right, Mr. Mipps. Now, listen.
The King's men are not to be offered accommodation in the village.
There is to be no room for them anywhere.
And remember! There is to be no violence either.
Aye...
Mr. Rash!
-I heard you. -Then say so.
Midnight then.
He put you in your place properly, Mr. Rash, didn't he?
No violence.
Ah, Captain! Admiring our little church?
You've removed your hat. Are you no longer in the service of the King?
I came to find the Squire, but I'm also looking for quarters for my men.
-Not in here, I hope? -No.
But you'll know the most suitable places.
Ah, yes. Have you tried the inn?
Come, Parson, there's only one room in the inn.
You've taken that, I expect.
It's hardly big enough for all of you, is it?
Let me see now. There's Mr.s Wagstaff...
Oh no, she's just had another, hasn't she?
Her thirteenth, I think.
That would be a little crowded. And a little noisy too, I expect.
Would you mind holding that for a moment? Thank you.
Dr Pepper has a spare room,
but he's been attending some rather nasty cases of the plague recently
so I couldn't really recommend there.
No, I'm afraid the inn is about all we can offer.
Thank you.
The best thing is to march your men back to the ship just for tonight,
and then march them back again tomorrow.
We're staying the night in Dymchurch.
Are you? I wonder where...
Well, he certainly seemed to keep you fellows chasing round the world.
Here's Squire Cobtree.
Sir Anthony, this gentlemen has been looking for you.
May I present Captain...
Captain Howard Collier, at your service, sir.
Not the Captain Collier who sank the French frigate Lion d'Or
-at the mouth of the St Lawrence? -Then you've heard of me.
Certainly.
We're not so out of touch that we don't know about our national heroes.
-Squire... -You're man has been telling me
you chased this fellow halfway round the world.
Captain Clegg, sir.
Captain Clegg? So this is where the rascal ended up.
Yes, I flatter myself that I gave him a run for his money.
But you never caught him, Captain.
Yes, that's true, but how did you know?
He was hanged at Rye. I attended his last rites as prison chaplain.
Last rites?
I suppose he repented all his sins at the last moment?
He died a Christian.
I interceded to obtain him a Christian burial here in Dymchurch.
If I'd have caught him he'd have had a different end.
I'd have had him hung, drawn and quartered. Publicly too.
I'm sure you would. But then you didn't catch him, did you?
-Well, I must be off. -Squire!
-I may expect you for supper, Blyss? -Delighted, thank you!
I should like a word with you, Squire. It's important.
Oh, very well then. Join us for supper, at the inn. Eight o'clock sharp.
Shall I see you and your men at Evensong, Captain?
-Seven o'clock sharp? -I very much doubt it, Parson.
Sailors have other ways of looking after their spirits.
Sing a little and laugh a little Work a little and spend a little...
-What are you staring at, son? -I can tie that knot!
Want to be a sailor when you grow up?
No, I'm going to be hangman.
I'm going to string 'em up and cut 'em down!
We may have business for you, boy, before we finish here.
Well, are you all done staring?
If it's all the same to you, Miss, I'd like a few minutes more.
Miss Imogene, Mr.s Rash wants you.
-Yes, Mr.s Rash? -You slip round the back
and see if there's any more best ale.
Sing a little and laugh a little Work a little and spend a little...
Harry!
-You shouldn't come here. -Aren't you pleased to see me?
No. It's not right for the Squire's son to be hanging around the back.
Hanging around the back of the inn to see the barmaid.
-You keep telling me that. -It's true.
-We'll go in, then! -No! Please don't do that.
If Mr. Rash sees you, I don't know what he'd do to me.
Does he treat you badly?
No. But he's my legal guardian
and he could send me away if he wanted to.
If he guessed we're seeing each other...
-Let him guess. -Harry...
-Why should he object to me? -Harry!
Wouldn't he like you to marry the Squire's son?
Marry.
Imogene, you know we will marry, as soon as we can.
So you said.
-I do love you so. -Yes. You said that too.
You said that if your father wouldn't allow you to marry me,
-then we'd be married secretly. -So we will.
We'd leave here and go to some new place
where no one knew or cared who we were.
So we will.
Then why don't we?
Because I can't.
You see, I might be in some danger.
-What danger? -Imogene! Where's that ale?
-Quick, please don't let him see you. -Later.
I'll try.
-I thought I told you to hurry. -Bringing it now, Mr. Rash.
Wait a minute.
-Somebody been out here with you? -No. No one.
Where have you been all this time, girl?
The Squire's here with his party. Take this in to him. Hurry now!
Oh, pigeon pie!
It always amazes me how Mr.s Rash manages
to get so many birds under one crust.
She's a Dymchurch woman.
What goes on under the crust of this village would surprise anyone.
Rash, bring out some Madeira and open a bottle of Chateau Lafite.
I've already taken the liberty of doing so.
-Splendid. -One moment, Mr. Rash.
I was told you didn't stock wines in this inn.
The Squire generally keeps a few bottles from his own private cellar here.
-And a very pretty wine it is too. -And a pretty duty it pays.
Or should pay.
Why sir, are you suggesting that...?
Perhaps you'd like my cellar book?
The Captain's only complementing you on your choice of wine.
I hope you'll sample my little stock, if you stay long enough.
I shall be pleased to.
Where have you been? You're late.
Sorry I'm late, sir.
That doesn't answer my question.
You left these outside, sir.
I was otherwise engaged, Father.
Wenching again, I'll stake my wig.
My son! The free thinker.
Fair shares for all, and all that nonsense!
You don't get it from me, I can assure you that.
What do you think of that? What with that and his wenching.
You should be glad he has an eye for the ladies.
It's high time one of the Cobtrees
introduced some good looks into the family.
-What is it, Bosun? -It's about the billets for the men.
-What about them? -There ain't none.
There's not an empty room in the whole village.
-Shall I march the men back to ship? -Yes, I suppose.
What sort of men are they, Captain?
The sweepings of Chatham, I'll be bound.
As fine a body of men as you can get.
They won't object to a little discomfort?
They're used to that, sir.
There's a barn of mine they can use.
Oh, dear!
Round the back of the church. The boy will show you.
-I'll see about it, Bosun. -Aye, aye, sir.
Oh dear, I do seem to have made rather a mess.
Better just slip down into the bar. Mr.s Rash will give me a damp cloth.
I'm so sorry. Excuse me.
Thank you very much, Squire...
-Give us a song, beautiful! -He can't sing!
We don't want the words. Just the melody.
Give him the note...
Not until you've sung. Go on. One, two and...
'Stop it! Let him go! '
Give us a kiss, then.
Must be the drink.
Can't think what's come over the heathen creature.
Generally, he's as quiet as a lamb.
What's been happening here?
My apologies. Bosun, what happened?
One of your men got a little out of hand.
Our local ale is rather strong. Please, it's of no consequence.
-Shall I get the men outside, sir? -The sooner the better it would seem.
-Yes, Bosun. March them off. -All right.
Come on, you rum-swilling rats, outside!
Free thinkers, the lot of them.
This wouldn't have happened in the old King's time!
Oh well, let's get back to our pigeon pie.
I understand you found the body of Torn Ketch in the marsh this morning?
-Well? -Have you any idea how he died?
Dr Pepper says it was heart failure.
If that's what Pepper said then
that's what he died of as far as I'm concerned.
-More pork, Blyss? -No, thanks.
Heart failure... Rather sudden, wasn't it?
I don't know if it was sudden or not. I don't very much care.
Neither do I very much care for the tone of your questions.
I'm sure the Captain is only trying to do his duty.
Then let him do it with a little more respect for his betters.
Why are you so interested in Ketch, Captain?
I might as well tell you since he can come to no more harm.
It was Ketch who told me of certain activities
that he knew were going on in Dymchurch.
-What activities? -Smuggling.
If there was any smuggling here I'd know about it.
You forget I'm Chief Magistrate.
How do you think Ketch died, Captain?
Thank you. I don't know. All I heard was some cock and bull story
about being frightened to death... by phantoms.
Phantoms, ghosts, spooks.
You haven't heard of the Romney Marsh Phantoms, Captain?
What are they? Local superstitions? Don't tell me you believe in them.
Would you kill an albatross or set sail on a Friday?
No, I wouldn't, but...
Local superstitions of yours, Captain?
Well, have any of you ever seen any of these so-called phantoms?
You Squire? You Parson?
I know many honest men whose word I trust implicitly who have seen them.
I've seen them, sir.
-You have? -What do they look like?
They were horrible.
Their horses seemed to move without touching the ground...
or even making a sound.
Their faces were like nothing on this earth.
Glowing as if on fire.
-How many were there? -A dozen or more.
It was hard to tell. They kept appearing and disappearing.
I'll tell you why they kept disappearing.
They weren't there except in your imagination.
You'd change your tune if you saw one yourself.
If I ever saw them, it's this I'd change.
To water.
With your leave, gentlemen,
I must see that my men are bedded for the night.
Bosun, Bosun... Here we are!
Thank you, boy.
Here, give him this. Loveable creature isn't he?
What happened to him?
He fell foul of Captain Clegg.
-The pirate? -Aye, that's him.
He attacked Clegg's wife, so they say.
So they left him to die on a desert island in the south seas.
We were hot on Clegg's heels when we picked him up.
Lucky for you, eh?
-Is he always like this? -No, he's all right in the ordinary way.
But tonight something seems to have upset him.
He ain't his usual happy self.
Get back!
See, he's frightened of fire, boy.
He don't seem to like the look of you.
Some people have that effect on him.
And when he's like that, he'd just as soon slit your throat,
or claw out your gizzards as look at you.
So,
the local people really believe in these marsh phantoms,
Parson?
They're devout here.
They don't get a medal with the forces of darkness.
But you're a doctor of divinity. Don't tell me you believe in them too.
I believe in the power of good and evil.
-Goodnight, Vicar. -Goodnight, Mr. Mipps.
Goodnight.
I know that strange, devilish forces do exist
with powers beyond the comprehension of mere mortal men.
It is best not to antagonise those forces.
I saw them! I saw them!
-In Heaven's name! -Oh God!
The phantoms. They passed so close I could have touched them.
-Steady! -I could have touched them!
I saw them just as close as you are to me now.
-I never want to see the likes again. -Where? In the village?
Village? No, on the marshes. The marsh phantoms.
They scared the wits out of me.
Where? North, south, east, west?
-I couldn't say exactly. -Then think exactly. Think, man.
He's had a terrible experience.
-Out there somewhere. -How far?
How far?
A tidy way. About a mile or more.
No faces. Only skulls.
If you have all the information you need from this poor fellow,
I'll take him home.
He's coming with me to show me these marsh phantoms, Parson.
But can't you see he's ill with shock.
Then a walk across the marshes will do him some good.
In the name of charity, Captain.
In the name of the King I'm taking this man. Goodnight.
-Captain, I don't want to go back there. -Come on.
Pleasant dreams, mateys. This stuff tickles, doesn't it?
Come on, mate, get your head down.
Come on! Come on outside!
Come on, you scum. Let's see the colour of your feet.
-Get outside! -What's happening, Bosun?
You're all going for a nice walk across the marshes.
Now, move yourselves! Come on outside!
Come on, move!
Come on, mate, go to sleep.
-Which way? -Up there, sir.
-Lead them up, Bosun. -Right turn! Forward!
-Everything ready, Mr. Mipps? -It is, yes.
We'd better move quickly then.
I think we're about ready now, Mr. Rash.
-It's them. It's the King's men. -Shh!
-Evening, Captain! -Working late tonight, coffin maker?
Yes, these chilly evenings are good for business.
And if you lot get lost on the marshes it'll be even better.
That wagging tongue of yours will have us dangling one day.
Just attending business, Mr. Rash. All safe now.
-Wait, I want a word with you. -Why? What have I done?
It's not what you've done but what you might do.
You're becoming a danger to the organisation. You're losing your nerve.
I don't like the King's men round our necks.
Would you prefer the hangman's noose?
That's what you'll get us all if you're not careful.
-I ought to be with the others. -You won't join them tonight.
I've always done my share, carried out my orders.
Come and see me tomorrow evening at the vicarage. We'll be safe by then.
Hey!
Hey, where are you going?
Hey! Hey! Where are you going down there?
Of course, this is only the outskirts of the marshes, you might say.
Once you're right in them,
to move one step from the path is more than your life is worth.
Six good men we lost that year 'cause
they didn't watch where they were going.
The year before, we had three men...
You keep us on a straight course because where we go, you go.
-Is this still the right way? -Oh yes, Captain, right enough.
-How much further? -You've a long way to go yet.
You don't seem so frightened of these phantoms as you did.
We've still a long way to go before we catch up with them.
And I've got you for company. As I was saying...
Halt!
Bring that man up here.
-How much further? -Not much further now, Captain.
I want to know exactly how much.
Well, maybe a mile, perhaps two.
-You don't seem very sure. -Well, I don't know this place.
But you came here less than two hours ago.
-Or did you? -Well, I...
Look! The phantom! There it is!
I don't like being made a fool of. Bosun, your knife!
Hold his ears.
You were sent as a decoy to see us out of the way, weren't you?
To see us out of the way of your smuggling friends.
No!
You're going to take us to your friends now, aren't you?
I can't do that.
Bosun, cut off one ear.
No! In the name of mercy, no!
You'll do as I tell you?
Yes! Yes!
Which way?
Bosun! Keep close behind him.
Come on, lads.
Come on! Come on!
A keg of brandy from Maidstone.
Ditto, Canterbury.
So far so good. The packhorses are here, boys.
I've got a score of kegs and bottles for you this time.
Come along, lads. Don't waste any time there.
They say the King's men are on the prowl tonight.
They're off across the marshes on a fool's errand. Good luck to 'em.
Thanks, Henry.
Be lively, Henry. That man Collier's no fool.
Come along, boys. We can't hang around here tonight.
-Is that it? -Yes, that's it.
The scarecrow! He's signalled.
-Here, that scarecrow. -What about it?
We passed that way back on the marshes. I swear we did.
Surround the windmill!
All right, Bosun.
Hey, that scarecrow, it moved! Moved, I tell you.
That scarecrow moved, sir.
Did it?
Blood.
Good morning, Captain. Getting up an appetite?
I'm an early riser myself.
Care to join me for breakfast? Grilled kidneys and bacon, I think.
Carry on, Bosun. Thank you, Doctor.
Let yourself in, it's not locked. I won't be a moment.
Good bye!
I always think this is the best part of the day, don't you? Come in!
Thank you.
There, what did I say? Kidneys and bacon. Delicious.
Come in, come in. Help yourself, please do.
Or some coffee first, perhaps.
Did you sleep well last night?
Exceptionally well, thank you. And you?
You were out looking for the phantoms, weren't you? Of course!
-Don't tell me you've only just returned. -Yes.
Dear me, you must've walked a long way. Did you have any luck?
Yes and no.
That's comprehensive anyway. Cream?
What did you find?
A scarecrow that bled.
Why did you flinch when I touched your arm?
It wasn't my arm, Captain. You trod on my foot.
-Captain! -What is it?
Captain, sir, Bosun says will you come at once. It's urgent.
My apologies, Parson.
Good day, good day.
Come and have some breakfast, Harry. You've earned it.
You'd better get these boots of yours cleaned quickly.
Must've jumped him from behind, done him in,
got free and made a run for it, sir.
Yes.
-No! -Oh, come on!
No!
What the...?
-What happened? -Douse the fire!
-What happened? -Your mulatto broke into my house.
Smee, fetch the Bosun with the party, and hurry.
I'll see that you're not disturbed any more.
I wonder why he'd break into your house?
-When you catch him, ask him. -He wouldn't be able to tell me, sir.
He had his tongue cut out by Captain Clegg.
Can you find your way home... without your spectacles?
Yes, thank you, Captain. Thank you.
-Goodnight. -Goodnight.
Please take me away from here, somewhere we can start a new life.
I can't leave here, Imogene. Not yet, that is.
But you said you'd be willing to start afresh in some other place.
You told me that.
It's still true. That's what we will do. But I have to ask someone first.
Your father?
No, not my father.
Who, then?
Harry, please tell me.
Imogene, do you trust me?
Yes, I do. I always have done.
Trust me a little longer then, will you?
If you ask me to.
Mr. Rash?
Please get out of my room.
Not until I've kissed you goodnight and told you a little bedtime story.
The story of little Imogene.
-Who are you? -You know.
I know what the Parson told me when he brought you here.
He said that your father was some brave captain, lost at sea.
-He was. -He was lost all right. To the devil.
You're the daughter of a common pirate that was hanged at Rye jail.
-I don't believe it. -Here's the proof!
Your father was Captain Clegg.
Don't you fret yourself, my little pirate's daughter.
I'll not tell anyone.
I've always been respectful to you, haven't I?
But I had to keep my real feelings to myself, until now.
Come back!
-Imogene! -Oh Doctor, please I must see you.
Come inside.
What's happened?
Is it true my father was Captain Clegg?
-Who told you that? -Mr. Rash.
Yes, it is true. Does it trouble you?
-Why? Because of Harry? -We were to be married.
Now you think he won't marry you, is that it?
My dear, you underestimate him.
My father was hanged in jail. A coward and a traitor.
Now that is not true, Imogene.
Clegg was bad, but he was never a coward, nor a traitor.
You sit down.
He outwitted the British navy for more than ten years.
They never forgave him.
Did you know he was offered a free pardon by the King?
For capturing a Spanish slave trader.
He wasn't pardoned, they hanged him.
As soon as he touched British soil, the navy seized him
and flung him into jail, and then hanged him without a trial.
He was betrayed. That's why he lies out there now in our churchyard.
He's taken the body.
-You asked to see me, sir? -Yes. Imogene's here.
She has some news for you. I think she'd rather tell you herself.
-What is it, Imogene? -My father was Captain Clegg.
Yes, I know.
You know?
Dr Blyss told me, some time ago. He asked me to keep it a secret.
You knew all the time? Oh, Harry.
Perhaps you'd like to escort your fiancee back to the inn, Harry?
Yes.
Thank you, sir.
-What is it, Imogene? -I can't go back there, to the inn.
Why not?
Mr. Rash.
What about Mr. Rash?
He'd been drinking...
He came into my room and...
Oh, Harry!
Young Squire!
If you so much as look at Imogene again, Rash, I'll kill you.
-Hurt your arm, have you? -Did you hear what I said?
-I wonder how you came to do that. -Did you hear what I said?
Yes, I heard. You're a fine young Squire.
So it's my little ward you fancy? Well, I don't wonder.
A generous girl is our Imogene. Don't mind sharing her favours.
Get his knife, Bosun.
Pick him up!
Take him out to the horse trough and sober him up.
Captain, look at his arm!
Look at his arm! Look at it!
May I take a look at your arm?
-Cut yourself? -Yes, Captain. Shaving.
I shot a scarecrow and hit a man. It was you!
Captain, I ask you, do I look like a scarecrow?
Take him in there and teach him not to be funny with me.
Drink, Bosun.
Now, perhaps you'd care to tell me how you got that wound.
-No, I wouldn't. -Hold it, Bosun.
These lads can get very nasty if they want.
I wouldn't tell you, whatever you did to me.
No, I don't believe you would.
You'd be more use to us as a hostage.
Take him down to the ship, Bosun. He'll be safer down there.
Enjoy your bath, Mr. Landlord!
One moment, Mr. Rash.
How did you know about the boy's arm?
-I saw it, didn't I? -Yes.
But how did you know I'd be interested?
I've got something that'll interest you, Captain.
-I'll give you this if you let me go free. -What is it?
I'll turn King's evidence if you'll let me...
Get up!
A bright lad, aren't you? Get him to the ship.
-Out, sir. -Keep him under guard
till he comes round.
Who's there?
Mr. Rash! What are you doing here?
It's all up with us, Mipps.
We've got to save ourselves as fast as we can,
before they come for us.
-What are you going on about? -It's the King's men.
-They've got the scarecrow. -They what?
They got Harry. He'll tell them everything.
-Where've they got him? -They've taken him to their ship.
You stay here, Mr. Rash. I'll go for the Vicar.
We can't wait for that! He won't do us no good now!
-Mr. Mipps. -They've got Harry.
What's that?
-Keep the ranks, Bosun. -Get back.
Get back into your ranks.
Get back!
Let's have a look at you.
-I'm all right, sir. -Now, listen.
We've got to move fast. Collier knows too much.
-You mean we must disband? -Yes.
Imogene's happiness means everything to me.
For her sake, and for mine I want you to take her away.
-Now, before it is too late. -Take her away?
There's water in there, and a towel. Clean yourself up.
But, sir...
Imogene, quickly!
Wait for me here.
Harry?
-But why? -You'll find out.
Come along, Harry. Come on!
-Mipps, all I need is a fast horse. -Master Harry...
Imogene.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here, in the sight of God,
and in the face of this congregation,
to join together this man and this woman, in Holy matrimony.
To love, cherish and obey.
-Until death us do part... -Until death us do part.
-And there too... -And there too,
-I pledge thee my troth... -I pledge thee my troth.
With this ring, I thee wed,
with my body, I thee worship,
with all my worldly goods I thee endow.
For as much as Harry and Imogene have consented together in holy wedlock,
and have witnessed the same before God, and this company...
and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring
and joining of hands.
I pronounce that they be man and wife together.
-God bless you, sir. -You take care of her, Harry.
Dear Imogene, be happy.
Get your men posted, Bosun!
Where is Dr Blyss?
-There are horses waiting for you. -I can't leave you like this!
You can, and you will. Now hurry!
The last time I saw him was about ten o'clock, perhaps even eleven.
Well, let us say half past, just to be on the safe side.
All right, Mr. Mipps. Thank you.
-I believe you wanted to see me? -I've come to arrest you.
On what charge? Where is your warrant?
-Have you issued a warrant, Squire? -I certainly have not.
Captain, unless you give me the explanation you promised,
I shall report you to the Lords of the Admiralty.
Dr Blyss, I should like you to answer a few questions,
in front of the Squire.
Then you shall have your explanation, and I, my warrant.
In view of your cloth and surroundings,
I feel I need not ask you to swear to tell the truth.
I am ready.
-How long have you been Vicar here? -Ten years.
-What were you before you came here? -A younger man.
-I want a straight answer. -That is what I gave you.
Will you answer me or not?
I will, but I must warn you,
I've lived a very full life.
The telling of it may take some time.
However, there is nothing I like better than talking about myself.
So, if you all have the time to spare...
I certainly haven't. I'll see you in the morning.
This will not take long, Squire.
Dr Blyss.
You knew Captain Clegg. Is this true?
It's hardly likely to be otherwise, since it was I who told you.
-But you knew him well? -As well as any man could.
There's a story that Clegg's wife was attacked by a mulatto,
and died in childbirth.
That is true.
And that Clegg left this mulatto to starve on a coral reef.
We rescued him, this same mulatto.
Do you think he would be likely to recognise Clegg again?
More than likely.
And you agree that it would be natural for him to seek revenge?
Of course.
Do you remember the first night you saw him?
Do you remember how he behaved when he saw you?
He attacked you, didn't he? Why?
Because he recognised you, Captain Clegg.
Clegg was hanged at Rye. He's buried out there.
He was never buried because he's not dead.
Clegg's grave in the churchyard is empty.
He was hanged, yes. But look!
Lord save us.
Even your cloth can't sanctify the mark of the hangman's rope.
Captain Clegg, I arrest you in the name of the King.
-Bosun! -Aye, Captain.
Wait!
You're right, Captain Collier. Clegg was hanged.
At least, the rope was placed around his neck and the trap was sprung.
But he had many friends.
The hangman was in the plot to rescue him, and Clegg escaped.
But no man can stand upon the gallows
without coming face to face with his soul.
On that day, truly the old Clegg died.
What the new Clegg has done, you all know.
When I first came here, I found you in wretchedness and poverty.
Deprived, by harsh laws and heavy taxes,
of the simple comforts all men have a right to expect.
I took upon myself the task of changing all that at the expense of the revenue.
What I did was for the good of you all.
-Take him! -Let him go!
Come on, Captain, on your feet.
Come on!
He's run out!
Captain, you're doing well. They'll never find us here.
That's right. Come along, now. You're doing fine.
We're not beaten yet, Captain.
Here, just like old times. Drink this.
Mr. Mipps!
Captain?