Ghost of St. Michael's, The (1941)

[bunniefuu]

Come on! Hurry up, pilgrims!

The old Mayflower's ready to sail

any minute now for the great unknown.

- All aboard that are coming aboard!

- I think this pilgrim's going to be sick.

Don't be an a*s, Sunshine.

We haven't started yet.

Different from Sevenoaks, eh Ritzy?

That's right, about ten degrees below zero

and 400 miles from civilization.

Scotland's okay in the season

if one's here for grouse.

Well, we're here for the duration now,

grouses or no grouses.

I beg your pardon, Skipper.

Are we all right now for Dunbain Castle?

Aye.

MacThorne's the name.

Speaks the language like a native.

- There'll be foreigners, I think.

- One of your English schools evacuated.

They've been crossing for Dunbain.

So the old castle's having

a new lease of life?

- Aye.

- Cast off.

How are we? Go on, move up.

Hey! Hey!

Hey!

Skye?

- Skye?

- Aye.

Heard about Crittors? Been called up.

Good Lord. There won't be a master

left at St Michael's under 85 soon.

- Wonder who the new man is.

- Some awful old dug-out, I expect.

You know, long white whiskers,

elastic sided boots

and a face like

something the cat brought in.

Problems with his bronchial tubes

so he wheezes.

Enormous tufts of hair

growing from his ears.

A walrus moustache

that gets dipped in the soup.

False teeth that rattle like castanets.

Matter of fact, he's not like that at all.

His name's Mr. Lamb

and he's a jolly decent chap.

How do you know?

Everyone knows about Mr. Lamb

in scholastic circles.

They say he's one of the greatest brains

that Cambridge ever produced.

Oxford, my boy, not Cambridge.

I am Mr. Lamb.

Oh, sir. This is a surprise!

May I have the honor of shaking your hand?

Oh, yes. Yes.

Me too, sir.

May I have your autograph, sir?

I'll put you with Roosevelt

and Bernard Shaw.

And mine, sir. Boys, our new master

is going to give you his autograph.

- Well, here we are, sir.

- I wonder if a car will fetch us.

- A bus, I think they said.

- Oh no, sir. Not for you, sir, surely.

Maybe not. Well, I'll see you at school.

- Goodbye, sir.

- Goodbye.

Come on, get in!

- Drive on, MacDuff.

- They said to expect one of the masters.

Sadly, he just missed the ferry.

Well, I'll wait until the ferry comes back.

Oh. He called to say he'd rather walk.

- Any… Any taxis about here?

- Not on the island.

- Could anything take me to Dunbain Castle?

- Aye, the bus.

- Good.

- But it's gone.

- I'm afraid you'll have to walk.

- Is it far?

About eight miles if you take

the short-cut along the quicksand.

Quicksand? How far is the long-cut?

- Thirteen miles.

- Thirteen… my lucky number. Thank you.

- Hey!

- Hey!

Who said that?

Who said that?

- Hello!

- Hello!

- Oh, echo.

- Oh, echo.

- Hey!

- Hey!

- Doesn't sound like my voice.

- Doesn't sound like your voice.

- Hey!

- Hey!

- Hello!

- What do you want?

Oh, there you are.

I'm Mr. Lamb, the new master.

Come on. Stop messing about and let me in.

Rousing a man from his beauty sleep.

- Oh, my poor feet.

- What about my poor feet?

Fetching and carrying all day

for a lot of foreigners.

- Foreigners?

- Aye. Southerners like yourself.

Pack o' unruly bairns.

Oh, yes. Did you notice a tall thin bairn?

With tortoise shell spectacles

that came on the bus?

Aye. He'd the impertinence to address me

as the c*ck o' the north.

Yes, well. Where's my bedroom?

Follow me.

Cheerful looking place, isn't it?

It's been good enough for the MacKinnons

for 800 years.

If you're dissatisfied,

you ken what you can do.

No offence.

Foreigner sleeping in the Great Bedchamber

that's no been slept in since 1344.

What's wrong with it? Does the roof leak?

Have you no heard

the legend o' Mad MacKinnon?

Was in the year 1344.

MacKinnon of MacKinnon, fifth of the line.

Had wooed and won the daughter

of MacDougal of MacDougal.

Well, you must tell me this

tomorrow of tomorrow.

Was the eve of the wedding day.

A great storm was raging as

the bridal party set oot across the loch.

They never reached the other side.

I'm not surprised with that ferry.

The vessel foundered on the rocks.

And the bride o' MacKinnon was drowned

cold and stark.

They laid her body in the Great Bedchamber.

And, while the piper played the lament

outside the door,

MacKinnon, mad wi' grief drank deep

a deadly poison.

And from that day to this,

when any person in the castle

is going to pass away,

the phantom pipes are heard playing

the lament o' MacKinnon.

A lot of rubbish, I think.

To find the room, turn richt at the top o'

the stair, left at the end of the passage.

Richt beyond the window recess.

- And it's the furthest door on the left.

- Thank you very much.

Let me see, now.

Take a richt turn at the top of the stairs,

a left turn at the end of the passage,

another richt richt turn

beyond the window recess.

And it's the furthest door on the left.

Yes, that's right.

Furthest doorway on my left.

Let's see. This'll be it.

- Hey!

- Is that you boys again? Come here.

- Let go of me at once.

- Oh no, you don't.

How dare you, sir.

- Who are you? What are you doing?

- What are you doing yourself?

That's no business of yours.

I heard some rats in here

and was about to deal with them.

That's very kind, but, if there are rats

in my room, I'll deal with them myself.

Your room?

Certainly. Is this your stuff?

I like that. I arrive late and someone

takes a fancy to my room and pinches it.

I'll have a word with the headmaster.

Really?

And who may you be?

Lamb. If you think I'm to be put upon by

other members of staff, you're mistaken.

If Dr. Winter can't control his staff,

what hope is there for the boys?

I'll have to speak to him about that.

Now, if you don't mind leaving my bedroom,

Mr…?

- Winter.

- Oh, Winter.

Dr. Winter?

Yes Mr. Lamb, the headmaster

who can't control his staff.

And who pinches other people's rooms.

- If you'll excuse me, I'll go to bed.

- I think you'd better.

The accommodation is limited. I trust

it won't be beneath you to share a room.

Share? Certainly not.

I'll take it as an honor, sir.

Not this room. The one across the way.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Yes, well… Goodnight, sir.

I hope you catch your rats.

See you in the morning.

Come in.

I believe I share this room with you.

Oh, splendid. Pardon me, sorry.

My name's Tisdaile.

Games and Backward Boys.

My name's Lamb.

Games with very forward boys.

- Good heavens! Eton?

- I haven't yet, no.

No, no, I mean the tie.

- Tie?

- Yes. You're a fellow Old Etonian.

Old Etonian, oh yes.

- Splendid, what year?

- Wotcher.

- No, what year were you there?

- Several years.

How marvelous, in a place like this

running into an O.E.

- Running into a what?

- O.E.

- O.E.?

- Yes, Old Etonian: O.E.

- Oh aye.

- We must have a chat about the old place.

Yes we must, someday.

- Doesn't anyone go to bed here?

- I'm very sorry, you must be fagged out.

- I'm absolutely D.T.

- D.T.?

- Dog tired.

- Dog--

Does Dr. Winter know you're here?

Yes, we had a little chat.

I didn't stay long.

He seems to be in trouble.

- What sort of trouble?

- He has rats in his wainscot.

Oh, that's uncomfortable.

Lots of strange things happen here.

They say it's haunted.

- But I don't believe that sort of piffle.

- Nor do I.

You know the Scottish gatekeeper?

He told me some rubbish about

phantom pipes and drowned brides.

- Really?

- Yes, I never heard such tommyrot.

It's amazing what some people believe.

I knew a chap who spent a night

with a headless nun.

- What, no head?

- Yes, none.

He was in bed and this nun walked

straight through the wall.

Gets into bed and lies down beside him

as cool as a cucumber.

- What do you think he did?

- I don't know.

Got up and ran for his life.

- Oh, really?

- Yes. At least, that's what he said.

What? Have I shocked you?

Don't look now,

but I think we're being haunted.

Haunted? Don't be silly.

Oh.

- The ghost bride of Mad MacKinnon.

- Ghost of my foot.

Why did you drag me out like I'm scared?

It's only a housemaid in the wrong bed.

Go on, wake her up

and get her out of there.

- How will I tell if she's a housemaid?

- See if she's got an apron on.

- Go on, wake her up.

- But I don't know her.

- Introduce yourself.

- Oh yes.

Good evening, my name's Tisdaile.

Housemaid, you're in the wrong bed.

She's sound asleep.

Give her a shake! Go on.

- You come and help me.

- It doesn't need two of us.

Well, you're older than I am.

But I'm a stranger here.

She won't wake up for me.

Go on. Wake her up.

- She's cold.

- You would be with nothing on. Try again.

Oh! She's stone cold.

- And stiff.

- Stiff?

Where's the door?

Hey. That's a statue.

- Oh, is she?

- Of course. "Stone cold" was right.

Fifth form, I suppose.

They haven't wasted much time.

Here's where she comes from. I bet

young Thorne was responsible for this.

Thorne? Is he a tall skinny boy

with glasses?

- Yes, do you know him?

- I should say I do.

- Let's put her back where she belongs.

- Right.

All the class must've been in on this job.

- What will we do?

- We'll have to make the best of it.

- There's room for the three of us.

- Oh yes.

Excuse me.

Goodnight, old man. Floreat Etona!

- Is that her name?

- No. Floreat Etona, Eton.

Of course, Eton.

Goodnight, old boy. Same to you.

Goodnight, miss.

Oh, I say. She is cold, isn't she?

- Walcott.

- Hitchcock.

- Boland.

- Newall.

- Sommerville.

- Corder Major.

- Corder Minor.

- Corder Minimus.

Truscott.

Welcome to St Michael's, my boy.

There's always been a Truscott here.

Thank you, sir.

Delighted.

- Mr. Amberley, Music.

- How do you do?

Mr. Stock, Modern Languages,

I hear you've emerged from retirement to

teach for victory, Mr. Lamb.

Very patriotic of you, I'm sure.

I don't know. One must do one's bit.

What better cause than

your Great British public schools?

A wonderful institution, Mr. Lamb.

Quite, yes.

Have you taught at many others

besides St. Michael's?

Yes, dozens and dozens.

There was Meadowvale… and so on.

- Meadowvale, marvelous school.

- Yes. I was there for years and years.

It was the happiest time of my life.

They used to say

it wouldn't be Meadowvale without Lamb.

And Lamb wouldn't be Lamb

without mint sauce, eh Lamb?

- Ah, Humphries. This is a pleasure.

- Mutual, I'm sure.

- Long time since we met at Meadowvale.

- Of course, you were there during my time.

- Your time? Your term.

- Do you mean my first or last?

Your first and last.

- Good morning, gentlemen.

- Good morning.

I won't keep you long.

Now we're safely evacuated

to this remote if romantic spot,

I want the curriculum to proceed

as normally as possible.

Mr. Amberley owing to the

topography of the castle,

I've had to allocate the harvest room

to use for your piano lessons.

- Mr. Humphries, the stable.

- Dr. Winter, I protest.

You forget that I'm Senior Assistant

and surely entitled to some consideration.

Mr. Humphries, if you must complain,

I'd prefer you do so in private.

The rest of the classroom allocations are,

I'm happy to say, more normal.

I posted a detailed list

on the notice board.

All that remains for me to do is

to wish the staff

a pleasant and successful term

in our new surroundings.

- Same to you, sir.

- Thank you.

Thank you.

Mr. Lamb, as you're new to the school,

I'd like a word with you.

Certainly, sir.

I've been going through your testimonials

again.

Oh dear.

And I've come to the conclusion that

you should take over the science classes.

- If you don't mind, Mr. Lamb?

- Science?

That's very kind, but do you think I'm

good enough for that?

I mean… yes.

You see, I have no other staff

with your qualifications.

I bet you don't.

I thought, as it was my first term here,

that if I started with, say,

arithmetic and then I work my way up.

Mathematics is Mr. Lambert's department.

Oh. I say, have you got anyone teaching

spelling?

- Mr. Redfern is taking English literature.

- Oh, what a pity.

I feel it'd be a waste of your talents

if you weren't science master, Mr. Lamb.

Now I'll take you along

and introduce you to the boys.

Thank you very much.

I'm afraid you'll find

some of the boys a bit high-spirited,

but you'll learn how to deal with that.

Your first class will be the Upper Fifth.

This way, Mr. Lamb.

- Morning, boys.

- Morning, sir.

Alright, sit down.

This is the our science master, Mr. Lamb.

Under his tuition, I shall look for

some extraordinary results this term.

I won't keep you, Mr. Lamb.

I expect you're keen to get started.

Thank you, sir.

Well. Good morning, boys.

Watch-yer.

- What did you say?

- Watch-yer.

Were you at Eton too? Funny.

I've a few things to say to you

before we start.

I'd like to thank some of you

for the very nice walk I had last night.

- I think you're one of them, aren't you?

- What, me?

- Me? What's wrong with your grammar?

- She was fine the last time I saw her.

- Who?

- My grandma.

I didn't say your grandma, I said grammar!

I am, thou art, he is, we ain't.

I, first person singular.

It's only "me" when it's in the…

- Predicament.

- Predicament, yes.

I think you were in on it too, weren't you?

What I, sir?

For two pins I'd knock--

- Don't touch him.

- I wasn't going to touch him.

I was only going to show him what I'd do

if he did it again.

Before I start, you'd better let me know

exactly how much science you know.

You tell us how much science you know.

It's not a question of how much I know,

it's how much you know.

Why? Are you teaching us or

are we teaching you?

I'll lay even money we have to teach him.

- You'll lay what?

- Even money.

Even money?

- Well, what do you expect?

- Five to one.

I expect some discipline in this class.

That's what I expect.

Thorne, if you're so smart, you can

enlighten me on your scientific knowledge.

Or lack of it.

Last term, we got up to general analysis

of radioactive elements,

internal pressures and temperatures

of spectral type K stars,

the determination of parallax by

trigonometrical calculus,

the diffusion of inert gases under

the molecular disturbance of latent heat.

Oh, is that all?

You haven't learned much. Have you?

In that case, we'll start with the law of

gravity as determined by Sir Isaac Pitman.

That's shorthand.

The Isaac you want is Newton.

I know, I was only trying to catch you.

Sir Isaac Newton.

Now, the law of gravity--

Just a minute, old boy. We had

the law of gravity in our first year.

So what?

So why take it again

when we know all about it?

You may know all about it, but I don't--

- I mean, how do I know you know it?

- Because I say so.

- Am I to just take your word?

- Yes, unless you want to start something.

I'm trying to start

if you'd give me a chance.

We'll take the law of gravity, whether

it's your first, second or last year.

Whether you know about it or not.

Well, the law of gravity was invented by

Sir Isaac Newton.

He didn't invent it. He discovered it.

Well, that's the same thing.

What's wrong with you?

No, old boy. You see, you can

discover gold, but you don't invent it.

Come back. That's beside the point.

Sir Isaac Newton invent-- discovered

gravity through an apple.

- What at?

- Huh?

What at?

- What at?

- Yes, what at?

He discovered gravity through an apple,

what at? What are you talking about?

You said he threw an apple. Well, what at?

- Who said that?

- You did!

- I did not.

- Didn't he, boys?

- Yes!

- I didn't say he threw an apple.

I said Sir Isaac Newton discovered the law

of gravity through an apple.

I didn't mean he threw the apple.

I meant that he could see through it.

Now, Newton was…

Newton was watching his little boy play

with a bow and arrow.

He took the bow and arrow from the boy,

placed an apple on the boy's head

and shot it with the arrow.

The arrow fell in two

and dropped on the ground.

And that is how Newton discovered

the law of gravity.

Any questions?

Yes, can we go now?

No, you can't. You'll go when I say so.

Any questions?

Yes.

Haven't you got it a bit mixed, old boy?

The generally-accepted legend is

Newton saw an apple fall from a tree.

The one who shot an apple

off a boy's head was William Tell.

Apart from that, you're not bad.

Oh. Thank you very much.

The law of gravity proves that

what goes up must come down.

If we throw a ball up into the air,

it comes down again. Why?

- Because what goes up must come down.

- Of course, yes.

If Newton hadn't discovered gravity,

what would've happened?

We would've lost our ball.

Not at all.

The ball would've come down,

but no one would know why.

There are some very peculiar things

about gravity.

You're telling us.

Yes, I'm telling you.

Gravity acts to the center of the Earth.

That's why buildings must go straight up.

- So they don't fall down.

- What about the leaning tower of Pisa?

- The what?

- The leaning tower of Pisa.

Leaning tower--

There's a perfect example of a building

that is not at all perpendicular,

yet remains standing.

I haven't the faintest idea

what you're saying,

but if you're saying a building

can lean and not fall, you're mad.

It's simple. I can prove it. C'mon boys.

Give me a hand with those chairs.

Everyone take one. By the gate.

Now sir, if you'll allow me to put

these chairs on your desk.

- Wait, what are you doing?

- I'm showing you what I mean.

This is the foundation and here is

the base. Now we have the first story.

Like so.

Now the second story.

I can't quite reach. Will you help me sir?

- Help him up boys.

- Hey!

Put it on there, that's right.

Put him down, hurry up.

- Now we have the third story.

- Wait, what's all this for?

Well, I'm just going to prove

a tower can lean without falling

if the center of gravity lies

within the base.

Come on.

Now we have the fifth story.

- Come on, can't you get any higher?

- I'm up.

Push it down.

- Now push that one on top. Be careful.

- Yes, all right.

Now we add the seventh story.

Wait, how high are you going?

The tower of Pisa has 30 stories.

Thirty? Do you expect me to climb

through the ceiling?

Oh, come on. One or two more.

- Come on, hurry up!

- I'm doing my best!

Right, that's enough.

It'd better be enough. I'm getting dizzy.

Now sit down on the top.

Hey? Sit down…

Look out!

- Your base is getting out of control.

- Winnie the old pooh.

- How's my center of gravity now?

- Mr. Lamb?

Oh!

What goes up must come down.

- Ouch.

- Is this the spot?

Yes.

I expect you've bruised your vertebrae.

- It feels like I've broken it.

- Don't know how from falling off a chair.

Well, it was a rather high chair.

- Oh, matron.

- Oh, hello, Dr. Winter.

Dr. Winter, I sent James to Portree for

the rat poison. I'll see if he's back.

That'll do, Mr. Lamb.

- No irreparable damage, I trust.

- No. I practically escaped scot-free, sir.

One cannot say the same, I fear,

about the classroom furniture.

No doubt you'll wish to pay

for the replacement yourself.

Yes, sir. No doubt.

You've not had a very promising start

at St Michael's, Mr. Lamb.

No. You just wait and see, sir.

There won't be any more accidents.

I assure you of that.

- I sincerely hope so.

- You best explain to the headmaster.

I couldnae get it, that's all.

- Surely they must keep some rat poison.

- No. There are no rats in Portree.

Nor in Dunbain, either.

Have you ever seen or heard a rat here?

I'd be a poor housekeeper if I let rats

run about the place unheeded, Dr. Winter.

Maybe it was the sound o' the pipes

that disturbed you.

- The sound was scratching, not gurgling.

- No, he means the phantom pipes.

He always talks about them.

'Twas in that very room in 1344

that Mad MacKinnon took his ain life.

- That'll do, Jimmy.

- Ever since that nicht, the sound o' the--

The fact is, Mrs. Wigmore,

that there are rats.

I refuse to keep taking sleeping draughts

in order to get a good rest.

You're a chemistry expert,

aren't you Mr. Lamb?

Yes, I suppose so.

Surely you could make some rat poison

in your laboratory.

Well, I could

if I had the proper ingredients.

It's mostly strychnine, isn't it?

Is it? Yes, of course.

Well, if it's not troubling you too much.

To prepare poison for you, sir?

No trouble at all.

It would be pleasure. I mean for the rats.

I'll do it straight away, sir.

This man Lamb.

I knew him at Meadowvale.

He's an incompetent fool.

What possessed you to engage him?

That's my business, Mr. Humphries.

Kindly fix your tone.

It's my business too.

When I take your post, I don't want

to inherit halfwits for staff.

Do you see this letter?

It is a request to the board of governors

that you leave at the end of term.

What?

Come in.

Don't blame me if your charming epistle

has some unexpected repercussions.

Dr. Winter, I just came to tell you that

I put the rat poison in your room.

- Thank you, Mr. Lamb.

- Where is the hole? I can bung it in.

It's no trouble.

Is there anything else I can do for you?

Any letters to post?

- That would be kind of you.

- Yes.

That was one in the bread basket for him,

wasn't it?

I beg your pardon?

Why wait to the end of term?

Why not sling him out now?

Mr. Lamb, assistant masters

are not expected to eavesdrop.

I must remember that.

I was forgetting I wasn't headmaster.

Well, goodnight, sir.

Goodnight and good hunting.

- Cigarette, Mr. Lamb?

- Why, is something wrong with them?

That letter. I'm going for a stroll.

I'll put it in the post for you.

Thanks, but I'd prefer to do it myself.

- Don't bother. You missed last collection.

- It'll be safer in the box. Sweet dreams.

Huh… yes.

Boys, here's to the opening night

of the Dunbain bottle party.

Hooray!

Okay boys, dive in.

Hey, look. The door. Scram!

Joe, the lights!

All right, open the other one as well.

- Come out of it!

- Oh, sir!

- There's an odd smell in here.

- There wasn't before you came in, sir.

- There is now.

- So there is, sir.

Reminds me of lobster.

Ah, it is lobster.

- Goodness, I don't know how it got there.

- You'd better by tomorrow morning.

Boys, don't lie with your eyes shut.

I know what's going on.

- You've got nerve, lobster at this time.

- It's fresh. I caught it in the loch.

Fresh? That's not the point.

You know that feasting

in the dormitory is strictly forbidden.

I take a very serious view on this matter.

- What have you got here?

- Nothing, sir.

Oh, nothing?

- Ah, whisky.

- Whisky, sir?

- No, sir. It's lemonade.

- Lemonade, is it?

Ah, fancy.

Takes like whisky to me,

but if you say it's only lemonade.

That doesn't make any difference.

Eating lobsters and drinking whis…

lemonade on top of them,

it's enough to give a grown man

nightmares, never mind boys like you.

I shall report this.

Sir, Halloween comes but once a year.

- Who?

- Halloween.

- What's she got to do with it?

- Halloween's an old Scottish custom.

- Our first time here, we must observe it.

- Come on, be a sport, sir.

- I don't know.

- Please, sir. Everyone does it.

Do they?

Well, if it only comes once a year.

Thanks, sir. C'mon boys, Mr. Lamb says

eat, drink and be merry.

Welcome to the Dunbain bottle party.

The snappiest night spot in Skye.

- Eats and drinks on the house, sir.

- Yes, sir. Have a drink.

Wait. Don't you think we ought to have

someone keeping watch?

- In case anybody came up.

- Good idea, sir.

- Bentley, you go and keep cavee.

- Okay.

That's better.

You boys want to be more careful

where you throw your rubbish.

That tin you threw hit me on the head.

Might have hit someone important.

I mean someone who understands boys less

than I do. Plus it's very untidy.

Put your rubbish in a paper bag.

Thanks for the tip, sir.

Boys. put your rubbish in this paper bag.

- Have another spot of whi… lemonade, sir.

- I think I will, yes.

They grow good lemons in Scotland,

don't they?

♪ That's as far as I want to go

That's as far as I want to go ♪

♪ I'll be pleased to dine with you

at the hotel Rooty-too ♪

♪ But all I've got is

a threepenny bit and so ♪

♪ If you don't mind having fish

and chips is as far as I want to go ♪

Hey, it's Humphries.

Hey!

Lamb!

Do you often crawl under boys' beds

in the middle of the night?

- Actually, sir, I was looking for rats.

- Rats?

Yes, rats.

Why the lobster claw?

Oh. Well, you see, that's

the Scottish method for catching rats.

You grip the rat by the neck with the claw

and you shake him to death.

Your breath smells of whisky.

I think you're drunk.

Drunk? Certainly not!

I've been drinking lemonade.

- Smells like whisky to me.

- Tastes like whisky too but it's lemonade.

I'm perfectly sober. Do any test you like.

Swans swim under the bridge.

Swim, swum, swim.

Swans swim under the bl-bridge.

Swam, swim… swom. There you are.

I wouldn't try if I were you.

It's too much in your condition.

- I bet it's too much in your condition.

- I'm perfectly sober!

- Then prove it, go on.

- I shall do nothing of the sort.

- He's scared.

- Nothing of the kind!

Swans swim under the bride.

Swim, swum, swam.

- Sam swum under the bridge.

- Ah! Sam swum under the bridge.

- He couldn't say it.

- No, he couldn't.

- Couldn't say it, could he, boys?

- No!

Who swam… He's tight.

Silence boys, this minute!

Shh…

Bagpipes.

The lament o' the MacKinnon!

Hark to… the phantom pipes.

They played while the MacKinnon,

mad wi' grief, drank deep a deadly poison

and fell back writhing in agony

beside the body o' his bride.

The headmaster.

- He's dead.

- Aye, deed.

As Mad MacKinnon died in this very room,

600 years ago.

This will greatly harm the school.

Parents are difficult at the best

of times, but the suicide of a headmaster.

I feared there was something wrong for

a while with the weird illusions he had

and his sudden obsession with rats.

There were no rats?

James McCrae who's worked here

for 30 years says he's never seen one.

By the way, you understand that

you take over the headmastership?

- I am greatly honored, Sir Ambrose.

- We'll have a detailed talk next week.

There are certain changes.

That reminds me. That fellow Lamb is

a bitter disappointment.

He's lazy, incompetent and

has no authority whatever over the boys.

- Well, sack him, my fellow.

- I'm afraid that's the only option.

I can't understand

why they don't hold an inquest.

Inquests cost money.

They're awful mean in Scotland, you ken.

- It's only done if they suspect foul play.

- Why shouldn't there have been foul play?

There's something jolly sinister about

old Lamb making the rat poison himself.

Put a sock in it.

You read too many detective stories.

Know the one I was reading on the way up?

My Aunt Lies Bleeding

The nephew murders the aunt

with strychnine too… Hey!

Hey, fellow clansmen.

The MacThorne of MacThorne brings

fateful tidings.

Old baa-Lamb's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

He's a m*rder*r.

That'll teach you to call me baa-Lamb.

You don't deny you're a m*rder*r, sir?

- If you mean I'd m*rder you yes… No.

- But seriously, sir.

What was to stop you swapping the poison

for Dr. Winter's sleeping draught?

- Well, nothing at all.

- Aha!

If I'd wanted to… Here, wait a minute.

That's an interesting theory.

Yes, I could have put…

but what motive would I have?

Well, do you know My Aunt Lies Bleeding?

Does she? Am I responsible for that too?

You don't have an aunt.

Get back to your seat.

Now, this morning, we'll begin

with the barbiturate group of acids.

Any questions?

Listen, I say that. That's my privilege.

Now, the nature of an acid is

clearly shown by its action upon a metal.

If sulfuric or nitric acid is allowed to

come into contact with zinc,

we have seen that hydrogen is given off

and the metal goes into solution--

Do you think he really knows something?

Now then, what are the properties of acids?

Come on, what do acids usually do?

Give us indigestion.

Can't you keep your mind off food

for a moment?

What have I just told you acids do?

Well, they generate a lot of gas.

I think that's just what he meant, sir.

I don't want any comic remarks from you.

What are the properties of sulfur--

What do you want?

The new headmaster wishes to see you

in his study.

- The new headmaster?

- Aye, Mr. Humphries.

Humphries?

In that case,

I'd better come then, hadn't I?

- Advanced Chemistry by G.W. Smith.

- The old so and so.

Come in.

All right, you needn't bother to say it.

I resign.

Right, pack your bag and go.

Just as soon as

I get the check for my full-term salary.

You forfeit that by resigning.

Do I? I don't resign, then.

- Sack me.

- I won't do such a thing.

I'll go back to class.

You won't go back to class or get

a full-term salary. You'll leave tomorrow.

- You'll hear from my lawyer.

- Good, what's the name and address?

It's in my other clothes.

Thorne! How dare you do a thing like that?

- Poor old baa-Lamb's just got the push!

- Has he really?

Would you consider letting me stay on,

say, just for my board and keep?

This is not an almshouse Lamb. Goodbye.

Oh, goodbye.

If any school wants a reference for you,

refer them to me.

If any parents want a reference

for this school, refer them to me!

Well, put that in your pipe and smoke it!

- I say old boy, I'm terribly sorry.

- Sorry? What about?

- Well, about you getting the sack.

- Sack? No, I've resigned.

- Oh yeah?

- Oh yes! I don't need anybody to sack me!

Yes, if only that letter had been posted

twenty-four hours earlier.

- Good heavens! I didn't post it!

- Is it something important?

Important? I should say it is!

It's a letter from Dr. Winter

to Sir Ambrose

demanding Humphries' resignation.

How do you know what's in it?

Well, you see,

I was going to see Dr. Winter.

I was about to knock on the door

and I heard voices raised.

So you stuck your ear up at the door.

- Disgraceful!

- Yes.

Well, I like that!

You've just been doing it to me!

They were going at it hammer and tongs.

One phrase Humphries used,

I remember he said:

"Don't blame me if that charming epistle

has unpleasant repercussions".

- Let's have a look at it.

- Open someone else's letter?

I think it would be justified

under the circumstances.

Especially as we know what's in it.

- Think so?

- Yes

Well, come in here.

There we are! There it is.

Well, what on earth?

"My head, noises in my head day and night,

is driving me mad.

I must end it all, end it all. J.E. Winter"

What on earth?

- But it doesn't mention Humphries.

- Winter must've been going crackers!

Nonsense! He was as sane as I am.

Well, that isn't saying much.

- Well, eh, as sane as I am.

- That's saying less.

Listen! Inspector Thorne of the CID

has solved the Winter mystery.

Humphries is about to get the sack.

He's desperate.

He's got to get rid of

the letter and Winter.

He pinches the letter from you

and substitutes this one.

Then he substitutes the rat poison

and the sleeping draft.

Verdict: suicide while of unsound mind.

Yeah, but I say!

That makes Humphries a m*rder*r!

Sure! It's up to us to get him hanged!

Oh, suits me.

Supposing Winter didn't write that letter,

it doesn't prove Humphries didn't either.

Or does it?

Yes it does, or does… Say that again?

-Well, if Humphries--

-My Aunt Lies Bleeding!

- I beg your pardon?

- Don't keep saying that silly remark!

It's a detective story!

The nephew murders the aunt.

She discovered he forged her

signature on a check.

And they proved the signature was his

because of the chemicals in the ink, see?

No, I'm awful sorry. I'm afraid I don't.

But Humphries wasn't Winter's aunt,

was he? Or was he?

Not as far as we know.

But why go into that?

No two makes of ink have

the same chemical ingredients.

So we just have to get

a sample of Humphries' writing,

analyze the ink and see if

it matches the substitute letter.

Wait a minute. We don't know if Humphries

and Winter use different inks, do we?

Or do we?

You've got me talking that way now!

We'll have to get a sample

of Winter's writing too.

Now, we shan't be able to do the analysis

until after prep this evening.

- Tis-bags!

- Who's that?

- You!

- Hey, don't be so disrespectful! Tis-bags!

Go get a sample from Winter.

- Baa-Lamb!

- Yes?

- That's you.

- I know, I know!

Come on, back to the fold.

-Look here, where shall I--

-Mr. Tisdaile!

Humphries! Quick!

Why aren't you giving your boys Physics?

They look well to me.

Oh, Physics!

By Jove, I'll give them Physics.

There we are! Now all we want is

Humphries' sample and we're okay.

What's keeping Tisdaile?

He ought to have got something by now.

Oh, here you are!

- Got a sample of Humphries' writing?

- I'll bring it in.

Bring it in? What's he talking about?

Here it is!

Written in Humphries' handwriting

in front of a class of witnesses.

Listen,

we don't want a sample of his writing.

- We want a sample of his ink.

- Oh, do you?

- Yes!

- Oh well, this is his chalk, I think.

- Yes, it is.

- What are we going to do now?

I know!

Humphries set us an essay

on that beastly thing.

He wrote a lot of nasty things

at the bottom of mine.

Just as I said! And it's in ink, too!

Now we can proceed with the test.

Wait a minute. Considering there's

about 57 varieties of ink…

There's red ink, blue ink, black

and blue ink, violet ink, marking ink…

- Indian, post office.

- Invisible ink.

Invisible ink. How can we tell--

Invisible ink?

If it's invisible, how can we test it?

- We can't, can we?

- Course we can't.

As far as we're concerned, there are

only two inks: Humphries' and Winter's.

Which test are we going to make first?

Density and penetration or fumes?

D-Density and penit… ahem.

Well, do the fumes test first. Cary on.

Well, what do I do?

Well, hasn't he explained it?

Well go on, tell him, tell him.

You put each sample over the fumes

one by one and compare their reactions.

Eh, yes, that's right. Yes.

- We'll want some fumes.

- Oh rather! I love them.

- What?

- Prunes.

Prunes? I said fumes!

Fumes, now let me see. Where…?

Ah.

I'll bet this is full of fumes!

Ooh, lovely!

No, no, no! We can't use that!

- Why not?

- Well, that's what dentists use.

- Oh, what for?

- Teeth!

- What, for cleaning them?

- No! For taking them out.

How? They blow 'em out?

That's laughing gas.

What we want is ammonia!

Ammonia? Ammonia? 'monia?

Oh, here we are! Ammonia!

I say, it's very strong, isn't it?

We ought to get a lot of reactions!

If you two are finished playing games,

we'll get on with the fumes test!

Hey, I think it's dangerous

leaving all these things lying about!

- We'll start with Dr. Winter's sample.

- All right.

- Well, what do I do?

- Nothing

- Well, what do I do?

- Nothing!

- Well, what's happening?

- Nothing.

Yeah, well I think it's a waste of time!

You and your… your fumes test.

Some things aren't affected by them.

Try the letter.

Well, I still think it's a waste of time.

Oh I say, I say, look! You see!

It's going a sort of reddish brown.

Is it? Let's have a look at it!

Oh, so it is!

- Then there's iron in the ink.

- Maybe he left his nib in it.

If Humphries' sample goes the same color,

we've got him!

Good! Go on, try it!

Why, I do believe…!

Yes, it's the same color!

- By Jove, we've done it!

- What?

I'm blowed if I don't think we have too!

- Will we third-degree him?

- No, inform the police.

Looks to me

Mr. Humphries is right on the spot.

Yes, he's right on the spot all the time!

I've always said he's ideal

for the headmaster's job!

- What?

- Yes. Oh, hello, Mr. Humphries!

What's going on here?

Thorne, do you realize preparation's begun?

Yes, he does, sir.

I came to infume him… inform him.

Why are you still on the premises?

Well, I couldn't leave.

The ferry wasn't working.

The water was too rough or something.

In that case, how did Sir Ambrose

manage to cross only this morning?

Well, I suppose he swum it!

No need to be facetious.

Whether you reach the mainland or not

is of no interest to me.

You go to your room now

and leave in the morning.

In the morning? Huh.

I may leave before then.

Baa-Lamb!

You and Tis-bags go to the police, now!

Go on!

You maintain that

your chemical test of the ink

proves that the suicide letter,

presumably written by Dr. Winter,

was in actual fact a forgery

on the part of Mr. Humphries?

I do. Yes.

- You said your name was?

- This is Mr. Tisdaile. My name is Lamb.

Hmm. I dinnae mind yer face.

Well, I don't mind yours, either.

Will you sign that statement, please?

There you are.

So you're the body

who prepared the rat poison

with which Dr. Winter k*lled himself?

We just said he didn't k*ll himself.

- He was m*rder*d.

- Aye?

- Yes.

- Yes, absolutely! Undoubtedly!

He'll tell you if you give him a chance.

- Yes.

Not a pleasant thing to have to do,

but the only course left was

to come to the police.

You couldnae do better, man.

Tell me now. Was it your conscience

that made you decide to confess?

Confess? I'm not confessing, I'm accusing!

It was no yourself

that committed the m*rder?

Of course not!

We were just telling you who did.

- Have you any proof?

- Proof? We've got foolproof proof.

Absolutely foolproof!

I've got the exhibits here.

Look for yourself.

Notice the ink on Dr. Winter's notice

has remained absolutely unchanged.

But the ink on the others is sort of--

- A reddish brown.

- Reddish brown.

That's due to the…

penetration of the pigment in the--

- Eh, ink.

- In the ink, you see.

Everybody knows Dr. Winter wrote that,

so Humphries must have written the other.

If yon's your idea of a joke,

I'm thinking you'll regret it.

Joke?

There's nae writing at all on these!

What? No writing on them? What?

- Well, what's happened?

- It must've rubbed off in your pocket.

Rubbed off in me pocket!

It's that clever Mr. Percy again!

Him and his fumes test!

He's gone and fumed it off altogether!

Well, I'm positive

that Mr. Humphries forged that letter!

If you don't believe me, come up to school

and I'll accuse him face to face.

Excuse me.

Aye, this is the police.

Who?

Oh, very well.

I'll be coming up to Dunbain.

Ah! Now you're talking!

Aye.

But we'll no be talking to Mr. Humphries,

for he's just been found dead

in the Great Bedchamber.

- Will you be standing?

- Thank you.

Call James Macleod.

Holding a judicial enquiry

in a barn! It's preposterous!

It's the island's old

court of justice, sir.

But there's so little crime, they released

it to Mr. McDowall for his cows.

Ah!

- Along, get out!

- Turn those ducks out!

Certainly, sir! Boys, the ducks!

There you are! Your bird, I think!

- You, sir!

- Yes?

Are the boys in your charge?

Well, there were.

But I'm not so sure about now.

- Well, keep them in order!

- Yes, sir! Alright boys, you can sit down.

Call James Macleod!

- Yes. James Macleod!

- Not you!

- Oh.

- James Macleod!

Don't let those ducks in again!

- Eh, no sir. No.

- Not you!

Eh? Oh.

- It was you found the body?

- Aye.

When I entered the Great Bedchamber,

Mr. Humphries was lyin' stiff and stark.

The sound o' the phantom pipes

wailin' in the castle.

Phantom pipes?

It's a famous legend here in the isle, sir.

Whenever the phantom pipes are heard,

there's a death in Dunbain Castle.

Ah! Superstitious nonsense!

Now, Macleod.

Had the deceased recently

quarreled with anyone?

- Aye. In a manner of speaking he had.

- With whom?

With Mr. Lamb, the Chemistry Master.

He gee'd him the sack!

Oh, did he?

Can you see this Mr. Lamb in court?

Aye. I'm looking at him the now!

Why are they looking at you like that?

I don't know!

You may stand down, Macleod.

Call Sergeant Macfarlan.

Sergeant Macfarlan!

Turn that cow out!

- Sergeant Macfarlan?

- Aye, sir.

Dr. Ritchie has told us in his evidence

that the deceased died from asphyxiation

due to prussic acid gas.

Do you know how the gas

could've reached its victim?

Aye, sir. Up an auld flu from the room

beneath the bedroom.

- It was used as a laboratory.

- Oh.

Had any particular person

free access to that room?

Aye, sir. Mr. Lamb, the Chemist Master.

It's all right, old man.

I don't think you did it.

Oh, thank you very much.

That'll be all, sergeant.

And turn those pigs out!

Certainly, sir! Boys, the pigs!

Ah, here we are!

Call William Lamb!

William Lamb!

- William Lamb, hmm?

- Yes, sir.

- Ha. So you are the Chemistry Master?

- Yes, sir.

I… Put that pig down at once, sir!

Well, here you are.

I don't want it!

Oh right.

- I don't want it!

- Oh, oh, alright, alright.

Lamb, it was you supplied the poison taken

by Dr. Winter, the previous headmaster?

Well, you're putting it a bit unfairly.

I gave him the poison for the rats,

not for himself.

I don't think he took it of his own hook!

-My theory is--

-The court has no desire to hear it!

We are here to enquire into the death

of Mr. Humphries, not Dr. Winter.

I like that! It was him

that dragged Dr. Winter's name in!

Kindly confine yourself to answering

the fiscal's questions, Mr. Lamb.

Alright. Well, go ahead.

And I don't like being stared at!

Oh, sorry.

Poor baa-Lamb. He's on the carpet again.

Think he really did it? Good for him!

You a*s! He hasn't the brains!

Now then.

This chemistry laboratory of yours.

Was a supply of prussic acid

customarily kept there?

- I shouldn't be surprised.

- Mr. Lamb.

As the Science Master,

you ought to know the contents

of your own laboratory!

Uhm, yes well,

I did start making a catalogue, but…

I only got as far as the letter 'O'.

Most of that stuff was in there

before I came.

Oh, I see.

Well, perhaps some of your pupils

are better informed.

Can any of you boys give

a more definite answer?

Yes, sir. I can. I saw a bottle

of prussic acid on Mr. Lamb's desk.

He was trying to tell us

what you can do with acids.

Trying to tell you?

Right, sir!

He didn't seem to know anything about it,

so he couldn't have gassed old Humphries!

Oh, yes I could!

I know all there is to know about acids!

Put him out at once!

Ah! Not the doctor, the goat!

So, you are quite an authority on acids,

Mr. Lamb?

Perhaps you would describe to the court

the process of making prussic acid gas.

Well, yes… Let me see now. Oh, eh, yes.

O, 5, H, 7…

Yes, yes! Of course.

Yes, you take a bottle of prussic acid…

And… you…

you pour some of it into something.

And… put it on the copper

until it comes to the boil.

And well, the steam it gives off

is prussic acid gas.

Oh. Is that correct, Dr. Ritchie?

Certainly not, sir!

In no circumstances

could the gas in question be generated

by heating hydrogen cyanide.

Thank you, doctor.

I'm not talking about hydrogen cyanide!

I'm talking about prussic acid.

They're alternative names

for the same thing!

Yes! Of course. I was forgetting that.

Well, my calculations are correct.

Look for yourself!

Hey! Here! Here! Here!

I put it to you, Mr. Lamb,

either you are grossly incompetent

to teach chemistry

or you're making a puerile attempt

to avoid an accusation

of having caused the death

of Mr. Humphries.

Hey there, wait a minute!

Are you trying to say I m*rder*d him?

I'm trying to arrive at the truth.

If I'd tried k*ll him that way,

you don't think I'd be a fool enough

to muck about publicly

with acid beforehand?

Quite possibly. You might've reckoned on

everybody saying just what you just said.

Well, if I'd been clever enough for that,

I'd be clever enough to know

you would say what you just said!

So it wouldn't be any use

my saying what I said.

You couldn't know

I'd say what I just said, I'd say.

If you're trying to say

I wouldn't have said what I said I'd say

if you'd said what you said

you would have said,

well, all I can say is…

fiddlesticks!

Silence in court!

Mr. Lamb, unless you can produce

unimpeachable testimony

about your character and past record,

I shall ask the court to detain you

for questioning.

I can vouch for him!

Never have I met a more charming

and delightful person than Mr. Lamb.

And his knowledge is exceptional.

The things he's taught me are astounding!

I'd no idea how little I knew

or that anybody could be so ignorant

until I met Mr. Lamb.

I can well believe that!

He told me that,

while he was a student at Heidelberg,

if it hadn't have been for

a chance remark to Einstein,

there'd be no theory of relativity.

He actually worked it out for him!

Very interesting,

but it does not concern us.

Oh. Well.

Anyway, he's an old Etonian.

Indeed? When were you at Eton, Mr. Lamb?

Eh, well it would be

from, eh, 1898 to, eh, 1902.

Strange.

I was at Eton myself at that time,

but I've no recollection of

any boy named Lamb.

Oh, well, maybe you're thinking of

the Eton near Windsor.

See I… I mean the Eton in… Ohio, USA.

We've got to get him out of this mess.

Please, sir! May I support Mr. Tisdaile?

Everyone in Shropshire

likes and respects Mr. Lamb.

Why, he's the most popular master

the hunt has ever had!

Furthermore, he'll certainly be returned

for Parliament at the next election.

I must warn you, Mr. Tisdaile,

and you, boy,

that, if you have been lying, you will be

held guilty of contempt of court.

In the circumstances, Mr. Lamb,

I shan't remove your liberty of movement.

Oh, thank you.

But I must say that

I consider your conduct

throughout the whole of this matter

to be scarcely that of a person

of normal sane intelligence.

Oh.

There'll be a further police investigation,

during which I'll require you be available

for questioning at any time.

Oh yes, any time you like!

Well, so long. Goodbye.

How dare you! What are you doing here?

Time's up! Milking time!

I didn't know

there was an Eton in the United States.

Well, the Isle of White's not the only

place where there's cows, you know.

If that's another reporter, go away!

It isn't. It's me:

Percy Throne in the flesh!

Oh.

See, I'm… I'm just packing up.

I'm going down to my little place

in, eh… Shropshire.

Well, what do you want?

Us chaps at the Upper Fifth, we…

we'd like to make you

a little presentation.

We hadn't time to get you a cigarette case,

so we thought you wouldn't mind the…

the cash instead.

With our best wishes.

Oh?

Blimey, they're genuine!

But, well, I couldn't possibly take… I mean

I'm afraid it's only five quid.

We couldn't raise more at short notice.

Huh. Well, I don't know what to say.

It's very…

Well, come on.

I've got to get my bag packed.

You'll have difficulty getting

any staff to accept that post.

Well, I was quite frank with him.

"Sir Ambrose", I said.

"You may think me superstitious,

but two headmasters have gone."

"What if a third?"

He even offered it to me.

I'm not a British subject.

There's trouble with the parents.

- They do not like these deaths.

- Exactly! You wait.

If this sort of thing goes on,

we'll all be shunted back to England.

Going to see Ambrose, Tisdaile?

Yes. I don't know why,

unless it's about my backward boys.

They've been writing

most advanced things on walls.

I think you will find

it is something more serious than that.

Oh.

- You sent for me, sir?

- Ah yes, Tisdaile! Have a cigar.

Cigar?

- Sit down.

- S… Sit? Me sit?

My boy, I've been looking up your record.

It seems to me the way you handled

your backward boys

has produced some remarkable results.

Oh really, sir? Really?

Therefore, I have decided to offer you

the headmastership of St. Michael's.

Who… me? I… I mean, I?

- Yes, you.

- I say!

- What about the senior masters?

- I want to give you this chance.

- Yes?

- This modern age belongs to youth!

Bold, enterprising youth!

Yes, sir. I shall certainly do my best!

- Good!

- Thank you very much, sir! Oh, marvelous!

Well, now I must be off.

Make yourself at home in your new sanctum.

Oh, thank you, sir.

- Goodbye!

- Goodbye, sir!

Masters and boys of St. Michael's.

Doubtless you've heard

of my new appointment.

And I hope this appointment

will not be a disappointment.

I… No, that's no good.

Bold! Ferial! Enterprising!

Masters and boys!

I give you three guesses as to what I am.

I…

Masters and boys of St. Michaels.

I am your new headmaster.

And, if you don't like it, you can lu--

Lamb!

- Goodbye, my lad.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

- Good luck!

Thank you.

Hey! That's not your ca--!

Oh hello, Sir Ambrose. Are you coming too?

- Get out of my car!

- Oh, your car?

Can I give you a lift?

Or I mean… Will you…?

Get out!

Oh, alright. No need to lose your temper.

- Sorry, Sir Ambrose.

- Get in!

Oh well,

I suppose I'll have to walk it again.

Wait, wait! Wait a minute!

I've got a lovely surprise for you!

- Eh?

- You may not have to go.

- Why?

- Well, I'm the new headmaster.

What?

Sir Ambrose appointed me

over all the other Masters.

So you won't have to go.

Oh, well,

what about giving me back the five quid?

Hey, hey! You're in a bit of a hurry!

No, I'll keep it a day or two.

I say, appointing him headmaster?

Sir thingummy must be a bit barm…

I bet you ten bob

the other Masters weren't passed over.

They turned it down!

Well, that's what I can't understand.

I'd have thought they'd leap at the chance.

What? With two Masters done in already?

Not likely!

Who'd want to be the third?

Yes who would?

Yes, rather!

What? Third? Good gracious, that's me!

Yes, that's right.

Still, it may be third time lucky.

He can't do that to me!

I'm not so fool as I think I am.

He deliberately put me

in a position rather…

- Cheese in a mousetrap.

- Yes! I refuse to be a piece of cheese!

Hey, hey! Oi! Come back!

Now, now, listen.

We're out to catch this m*rder*r or bust.

The only way to catch him is red-handed.

How can he be red-handed

if there's no headmaster to m*rder?

There you are! That's logical.

Yes, but I… won't do it.

Aren't you being a bit selfish, old boy?

You're taking away my only chance

to make a 100% come back.

Yes, but why should I make myself

a stalking horse?

Make up your mind

if you're a horse or cheese.

I'm surprised at you, sir.

- So am I.

- Yes, so am I.

But I… I will not have myself butchered

for a Roman, what's-his-name?

You can lead a lamb to slaughter,

but you can't make him drink.

It's you that's going to slaughter, not me.

Mr. Tisdaile! Do you wish me to move

your things to the Great Bedchamber?

- Certainly not!

- Yes!

Very good.

Great Bedchamber?

That's where they were k*lled!

We don't want to make it

more difficult than necessary, do we?

No! I will not put myself in a mousetrap!

I won't, I won't, I won't!

I won't. I… I won't go to sleep, anyway.

You can't make me do that!

I'll sit up all night.

Well, let's hope you won't have to.

Very likely he'll make a stab at you

before long.

- Stab?

- Well, whichever way he wants to do it.

Let me see now, Humphries and Winter

got it in the neck about…

About eleven o'clock.

- Well, what's the time now?

- Quarter to.

Oh!

These are the best I could get!

I think they finished the armory

about the time of the Battle of Hastings.

- They're not very modern.

- I don't know what you're grumbling about.

The other two corpses hadn't

any weapons at all!

You'd better take your pick.

- Is that loaded?

- You bet!

- Found some power and shot!

- I'll have it.

No, you won't. You might let it off

and hurt yourself. I'd better take this.

All you've got to do is wait

to be m*rder*d.

- Oh.

- We've got to catch the m*rder*r.

Yes, of course. But suppose you miss him?

- We won't!

- Here, take these in case.

And, if you see him first, give us a shout

for help. We shan't be far away.

But how shall I know if I do see him?

I mean, in time to do any good?

- We don't know who he is. Who is he?

- Oh. We hadn't thought of that, had we?

If you ask me, it's Stock!

He says he's a Swiss!

Bet you he's a n*zi agent!

- What?

- Don't be silly.

What would they gain by bumping him off?

That wouldn't win the w*r!

-In a book I once read it said--

-Listen!

We've heard enough of your bleeding aunt!

We've got to find the motive.

That'll give us the m*rder*r.

Suppose I want to k*ll three headmasters.

Oh, two, old boy.

No, I'm including you.

What motive would I have?

Well, none that I can think of.

Well, not for the first two, anyway.

On second thoughts, it might be Jamie!

He doesn't like the school being here.

Yes. Yes, that's right. He's crazy enough

to have us all bumped off, isn't he?

Starting with headmasters,

working his way down.

He knew about the rat poison too,

he could have--

Ssh! Listen!

- Somebody's coming.

- Who's there?

Come in!

Brought ye up a glass of milk.

That's very kind of you,

but I… I didn't order any milk.

I did the same

for the other two headmasters.

It'll help to put you to sleep.

Ah, yes. I'm sure it will.

- Thank you very much.

- Good nicht to ye.

And may you rest in peace.

Rest in p…? He means R.I.P!

Yes, that's right.

- Well, is it safe to drink?

- Not unless you want to poison yourself.

Anyway, one thing we can be sure of.

If the m*rder*r used poison or poison gas,

he's not likely to use either again.

- Oh, good.

- He'll keep us guessing.

- Yes.

- What will he use?

Oh, well, dozens of things.

- Yes, there's electrocution.

- Powdered glass.

- Black widow spiders.

- Brides in the bath.

- Snakes down the bedside bell rope.

- What?

- That was a bit of luck!

- What?

- There isn't a bell rope.

- Well, he won't use that.

Hey!

He's quite likely to use

a secret panel instead.

I say, can't I sleep somewhere else?

Can't we call the thing off till tomorrow?

And spoil the whole thing?

No, you stay where you are.

Well, we'd better have a look around.

Ah, there's an echo.

- That was me.

- Don't do it, then! Leave it to me!

- I told you not to do that.

- I didn't do that.

- Did you?

- No.

- But I heard it, too.

- So did I.

- It seemed to come from over there.

- Oh?

Hey, the p*stol's gone.

Did you take it after all?

- No.

- Ah. Well, it's gone, anyway.

- Well, who could have taken it?

- Why, the m*rder*r, of course!

What? But how?

I don't know. It shows he means business.

Pipes!

- Now's our chance!

- Yes.

- What shall I do?

- Well, listen.

Stay here, and if he gets by us

and tries to m*rder you,

don't let him do it before we get back.

Yes. What, what?

- Come on!

- Yes.

Ahem, after you.

It's coming from up there somewhere.

- The battlements!

- Yes.

- He's up here, all right.

- Yes, sounds like it.

Oh! Why, it's only Antony and Cleopatra!

"Only Antony!" Get out of here!

Get away! Shew! Shew!

- Well, that settles that.

- Yes

If it's those cats,

they're meowing in tune this time!

It's the pipes, down below!

Stick it, old boy!

Stick it! You're doing fine!

The bride that MacKinnon took in his arms

that nicht was drowned and cold and stark.

They laid her body in the Great Bedchamber!

Headmaster!

Jamie!

Mr. Tisdaile, are ye no there?

Headmaster? Mr. Tisdaile, where are ye?

Do you no hear the pipes?

Save yer-self! Save yer-self!

Oh, Mr. Tisdaile! Where are ye?

Save yer-self!

Ah!

- If it's those cats, I'll wring your neck!

- Hey!

It's not coming from the battlements.

It's coming from behind this wall.

This wall? Don't be silly.

These walls are solid.

- Hey, what the…?

- Look!

It's a secret chamber!

Look! There's your phantom pipes!

This must be where the m*rder*r started.

Used to be the t*rture chamber, I bet!

You know, racks, and thumb screws!

I wonder how you turn this thing off?

Hey, hey! Stop that noise!

Ritzy. Ritzy!

The phantom pipes!

I can't hear anything.

Well, they've stopped now.

There's something wrong with your earhole.

Get the idea! He puts the record on,

then, while it's still playing,

he creeps out and…

Yes, I suppose… Tisdaile!

Hey! Where's the door?

Somebody's taken it away!

We must've trodden on a secret… Hey!

There's another way out there!

- This must be the way the m*rder*r went.

- Well, go on, then.

Oh no! Your turn, now. After you!

Wait a minute, wait a minute.

- He's got me!

- Great scot, it's Lamb!

So it was you!

Don't be an a*s! He's not the…

Wait a minute! What are you supposed to be?

I thought if I were mechanized, it'd help.

"Mechanized?" Bah!

- Did you get him?

- No, not likely to.

He'll put it off for the week.

- What's that?

- Ah, he hasn't put it off.

It's on the battlements! Those cats!

- Let me go!

- Give me that g*n!

I never heard a cat say that before!

- Let me go!

- Give me that g*n!

Look! I told you so!

Get out!

Are you all right, Mrs. Wigmore?

Help me with her.

Sit down. There.

- Oh! What's that?

- Oh, it's only Tis-bags!

- A sort of battle dress.

- Yes.

It's all right! I'll be better in a minute.

He was signaling!

I saw the light flashing,

came up, and he attacked me.

We'd better lock him up

and phone the police.

- Well, where's safe?

- I'll show you.

- Who was he signaling to?

- What does it matter?

We've got him, haven't we?

Help me lift him.

Turn him over.

This way!

Good gracious!

It's a very good idea!

This is the t*rture chamber.

Oh! A radiogram. They're very

up to date with their tortures!

Silly! That's where the pipes come from.

Yes. Frightened everybody to death!

Except me, of course!

Are you sure it's absolutely safe?

Oh yes! No one can get out

of here once the door's shut.

It's safe, all right.

Look! He's coming round!

You thought you'd get away with it?

You've got to stop her. She's a n*zi agent.

Oh, come off it. Don't try that stuff!

I'm from the Secret Service.

Caught her signaling a submarine.

Looks like he's right!

They've used the castle

to land spies from submarines.

There's one due tonight.

When they come, our chaps'll get them.

She's trying to stop them.

You've got to stop her.

I hardly believe Wigmore's a secret

submarine and blowing the phantom pipes!

Not to mention the murders!

To think I let her

rub my back with embrocation!

Well, we've got to get out

to stop her signaling them!

Yeah, how?

- What's that?

- What's what?

Something's rumbling.

- Well, it isn't me.

- I say!

Either you're getting taller,

or the ceiling's coming down.

By Jove, you're right! So it is!

One of the tortures!

She's not taking chances.

It's going to squash us!

Can't we escape through that grate?

What, with all those meat skewers?

- No, yell for help!

- Help, help, help!

You've got to shout louder than that!

Help, help, help!

They'll never hear us yell all night!

Well, they heard that loud speaker.

- I've got it!

- We're going to get it too!

The mic's connected to speakers

in the castle! We can speak through!

Oh, good! They'll be bound to help us!

Hello. This is the Home Serv…

This is Hillary Tisdaile speaking.

- S.O.S.

- That's no good! We haven't got all night!

Hello, hello? Whoever's listening!

- We're shut up.

- You shut up!

- We're shut in and can't get out.

- Help! S.O.S!

It's Tis-bags and old baa-Lamb!

They're shut in somewhere.

Tell them where we are! Hurry up!

- Thorne's there too!

- Where's it coming from?

It sounds as if it's out in the passage.

Come on!

It's very, very urgent!

There's not a moment to lose!

They won't know where it is.

Tell them how to get to us!

From the main hall,

it's the first right, second left.

No, it's the second left

and the first right and then--

It's secret entrance in the

corridor by the spiral staircase!

Bang on the wall and it opens!

That's right!

There! Now it's busted!

Something happened. It's stopped!

Corridor by the spiral staircase,

thump the walls.

Come on, you chaps! Downstairs!

I think we ought to toss up

who wears this armor.

Hey, hey! Come on. Out you go!

Don't let her go. It's good luck!

There's enough of us in here!

- We can give her a message for them.

- How do we know she won't forget it?

- We write it down.

- Silly! She can't read!

No! Write it down and tie it on her. Here.

- Give me some paper.

- I haven't any.

- Give me your collar.

- Aright. But what for?

- Never mind what!

- Here you are.

Hurry! She's getting restless.

- Sing something to keep her interested.

- Hello p*ssy! How are you? All right?

Give me your tie!

Come on! Hurry up with it!

Stop fiddling about with it.

Don't waste time on pretty little knots.

Go on, push it out. All the way.

Go on, p*ssy! Off you go! Go on!

Ssh! Ssh! p*ssy go on! Ssh!

- I hope somebody sees her!

- They will sooner or later.

But it may be much too later.

Let's get under that table!

It's made of iron.

- Even stone can't squash that, can it?

- Come on then!

I hope you're right about iron and stone!

Of course I'm right!

Don't you break stone with an iron hammer?

Hey, what's that?

Looks like one of baa-Lamb's collars.

It's got a message on it!

"S.O.S. Look for cross sabers

in top corridor. Thump wall just below."

"Come quickly. P. Thorne."

Top corridor! We've been at the wrong one!

Come on, chaps! Upstairs!

We shall all be like sardines in a minute!

Why the grumbling? You're already in a tin.

- There!

- Just below, the message said.

Hey, look here! Hey, come on. Help us out!

Oh! Let me out, let me out. Oh! Oh!

How did you get in there?

- Never mind! Where's Mrs. Wigmore?

- The battlements, I expect! Come on!

There she is!

Stand back!

- Put that down!

- Sh… She's probably bluffing!

We'll teach her to make pancakes out of us!

Y… Yes. Let's rush her!

It's your turn, now! Go!

- Ooh, g*n!

- No. Ignore that!

Get back!

Come along, Mrs. Wigmore.

Ah, well. That's that!

That's the end of the phantom pipes!

Yes, we shan't hear those anymore.

- Ah, that's the all clear!

- All clear.

Well, you can go home now if you like!

Come on, Claude!