684 - (Nancy Barrett) - A moonless night on the great estate of Collinwood, and a mysterious spirit has led two men to a desolate part of the forest that surrounds the ancient house. There, they uncover a strange secret that can help them-or lead them to disaster.
Barnabas and Chris gaze into the coffin. "It was an infant!" observes Barnabas, horrified. He withdraws a silver pentagram from the tiny casket. Chris notices that two of its points aim downward. Someone here, long, long ago, needed protection from a werewolf, notes Barnabas. Chris finds this news astonishing-surely, if there had been a werewolf, there would have been stories, legends, about it? They agree that, whatever happened, this is somehow connected to Chris' problem. Barnabas guesses the coffin is 50-75 years old, not the pine box of an earlier (my?) period. I wonder why it wasn't buried in the cemetery? Muses Chris. Was your family in Collinsport 50-75 years ago? Questions Barnabas. Yes, Chris said, but they wouldn't have known the Collins family. We must research old newspapers for reports of animal attacks, suggests Barnabas. A mother buying a pentagram, Chris considers. Barnabas is sure the pentagram will help them, but a frustrated Chris can only wish "that woman" could speak. I'm certain the spirit is doing everything she can, Barnabas assures him. As they place the coffin back in the earth, Quentin watches them through the bushes.
Drawing room - Carolyn finds David up, reading, and is annoyed with him. She asks what he's reading. Nothing, he says, then points out that Aunt Liz says he doesn't read enough. Carolyn takes the book from him and notes the title--GHOSTS AND EXORCISM. Have you ever seen a real ghost? asks David.
She notices how peculiarly he's acting, disturbed and evasive. This is a funny house we live in, David tells his cousin--Father falling downstairs, Aunt Elizabeth being attacked by an animal--sometimes I think we should just all move out of this house!--sometimes I think. . . Quentin appears at the window. Carolyn urges her cousin to finish what he was saying, but he insists he's tired and ready for sleep. Carolyn agrees with him, but tells him they'll have a talk tomorrow. Carolyn turns off the light and gazes out the window, but sees n one. When she leaves, however, Quentin reappears by the window.
Woods - Perhaps the spirit who guided us here is the child's mother says Barnabas. I wonder if we can learn who the child was? asks Chris. Considering the secret burial, says Barn, I doubt either the birth or death was recorded. I'm certain we're missing some clue, frets Chris. I think the pentagram is enough, says Barn, and they leave.
Quentin's room - The music plays. David insists to Quentin, I don't want to do it--every time you ask me to do things like that, something really terrible happens! David turns his back on Quentin, who keeps staring at the protesting boy. Finally David, mesmerized once more, turns back to the ghost. All right, says David, I'll get the medallion for you. Quentin smiles.
Drawing room - David has set up a rubber dart board on a chair, and keeps throwing darts at it. Barnabas studies the pentagram through a magnifying glass and, finding David's game distracting and irritating, asks him to stop. Barnabas reads the writing on the back of the medallion--"To guard you from Cerberus." David asks who that is. You should know that from your studies, insists Barnabas, but explains that Cerberus was a wild dog who guarded the gates of hell. Carolyn enters, sarcastically pronouncing this conversation "cheerful." Did the dog guard hell so no one could get in? queries David. So no one could get OUT seems more logical, answers Carolyn--who started this mythology lesson? Barnabas shows her the pentagram, lying that he found it in a trunk at the Old House. David notes that there's a jeweler's mark on the piece, and Carolyn reveals it's Mr. Braithwaite. Barnabas thanks her for this info, and Carolyn is surprised he's so pleased to hear it. She tries to get David to renew this discussion of the previous evening, but he remains stubbornly evasive and she gives up and leaves. David returns to playing darts. Barnabas asks him to be quiet, then calls Mr. Braithwaite and tells him he has a medallion he'd like identified. We've been doing the silverwork for the Collins family since 1781, says Braithwaite proudly. Barnabas asks him to come to Collinwood in half an hour. When David realizes Barnabas has left the pentagram on the desk, he quickly snatches it and hides it behind his dartboard, then continues to play darts, to Barnabas' annoyance. I have to wait for Amy, insists David. Barnabas starts searching for the medallion, which is no longer where he left it. Maybe you put it in your pocket--or it fell on the floor, suggests David, looking under the desk. Did you pick it up? Demands Barnabas. No, I don't like old things, says David. Nevertheless, Barnabas accuses him of taking it. Search me, says David, emptying his pockets so Barnabas can inspect their contents. I don't understand, says a puzzled Barnabas. Lots of things happen in this house that no one can understand, says David--you should know that. As Barnabas continues to search, David says, I'm going to look for Amy. He gathers together the dartboard, darts and stolen medallion, and leaves the room.
Braithwaite's Jewelers - Barnabas brings a drawing he made of the missing pentagram for Mr. Braithewaite. The elderly man (portrayed by Abe Vigoda ("Fish")) says it's a shame Barnabas lost the medallion--it will be more difficult to trace that way. The design is unusual, agrees Braithwaite, but we've made some odd things, I can tell you that--my father, Ezra Braithwaite, died in 1901--do you remember him?
That was before my time, says Barnabas, amused. Braithwaite recalls something, but it instantly fades from his memory, a frequent problem he talks about as quite an annoyance. Check the records for the Collins account, says Barnabas, interrupting the man's prattle--it's important. Braithewaite assures Barnabas he'll do this as soon as the shop closes, and will call if he finds anything.
In Quentin's room, David reminds the ghost, "You promised not to hurt anyone." Quentin simply walks away from the boy.
Drawing room - Giggling, Carolyn admits to Chris, I've been trying to get you to ask me out to dinner for weeks. Playfully, with a hint of sadness, he says, I hadn't noticed.
I was afraid you had other interests, she says, every time the sun went down, you disappeared. He looks solemn. Noticing the change in his mood, she assures him, I'm not prying. They have a drink. Barnabas enters and apologizes for his intrusion. We should leave, Chris tells Carolyn, our reservations will be ready. When she leaves to get her coat, Chris takes the opportunity to ask Barnabas if he learned anything from the jeweler. No, says Barnabas. Carolyn and Chris head out on their date. Barnabas sits, reading the newspaper. David joins him and asks if the lost medallion is worth a lot of money. Only to me personally, Barnabas says. Why? asks David. It's nothing, says Barnabas--please tell Mrs. Johnson I may be receiving a call from the jeweler--I'll wait in the study for the call--please come get me, no matter how late. He leaves, bringing the newspaper with him.
Braithwaite, in his shop, examines a ledger, telephones Collinwood and asks to speak to Barnabas. David answers. I have the information Mr. Collins requested, Braithewaite tells him--I pass Collinwood on my way home.
Quentin takes the phone from David and listens to the rest of what Braithewaite says: "I don't know how I could have forgotten that medallion--it was one of the first pieces I made myself." Quentin grins and hangs up the phone. You had no right to do that! David says angrily. Quentin advances on the boy, who backs up the stairs. Quentin follows him all the way up.
NOTES: Brrrr! One senses that Mr. Braithewaite's days might be numbered, if Quentin gets his way. He doesn't want any clues surfacing that will reveal the truth, so he kills the medium and now. . .? Will Quentin once again break his promise to David not to hurt anyone? Is the boy himself even safe?
I always loved Abe Vigoda here. He was crotchety and ancient, thinking Barnabas remembered his father (but might have remembered that generation of Braithewaites that made silver bullets for Joshua when he needed them). In any case, these scenes were delightful, and Frid and Vigoda played well off each other.
Who's baby was in the coffin? Was it Beth's? Hers and Quentin's perhaps? What did he die from? It couldn't have been the werewolf who killed him, not with that pentagram protecting him--or was the medallion placed with the baby after death?
More and more mysteries, all surrounding this handsome but murderous ghost!
685 - (Joan Bennett) - Night over Collinwood, a night of suspense for Barnabas Collins and Christopher Jennings, who have discovered an infant's coffin and in it a tiny pentagram, used for protection against werewolves. Barnabas, aware that the medallion comes from a shop in Collinsport, has aksed the jeweler to search his records and find out for whom the pentagram was made.
Poor David, backed up the stairs in his own home by Quentin, who heads relentlessly towards him.
Drawing room - David asks Quentin if he's sure that's all he wants him to do. Yes, nods Quentin, but he doesn't nod when David asks him to promise not to do anything bad. David knows he must help Quentin, but begs him to not do anything bad--you can stare at me if you want, but nothing bad, please. . . Amy joins them, locking eyes with Quentin herself. David babbles about fearing what might happen in the future. Amy gives Quentin a huge grin, but he disappears, and she complains he never wants to see her anymore--what does Quentin want you to do? she asks David, who doesn't answer, but just keeps looking for Quentin. Amy wishes Q wouldn't disappear; he listens to them. David hushes her. Amy warns him not to trust Quentin; he's planning something against Chris--why else would he disappear when he sees me? David assures her this has nothing to do with Chris, and they have to believe Quentin. Do we? asks Amy, who feels Q's presence--he's listening to everything we say, she declares, and races out of the room. David closes the double doors and joins her in the foyer. They agree playing the game isn't fun anymore, and wonder what to do. We'll watch Q and make sure he doesn't do anything bad, says David. Amy doubts that will help. Mrs. Stoddard comes downstairs holding a telegram--I want you to come to Portland, to the airport, to get your father, David. TONIGHT? he bursts out, puzzling his aunt--not that I'm not excited to see my father, he amends. Liz tells him Roger wants his son to come to the airport with her. Liz asks Amy along, but David doesn't move to wash up and comb his hair as requested. Trying to get out of the airport trip, David tells Liz they had something planned, but can't explain what. Then he blathers about studying for a test, finally admitting he doesn't want to go! David can't explain, but it's obvious he's very upset. You wouldn't understand, he tells Liz, but I can't go, I can't!
Liz asks if he's lying about the test--actually, she KNOWS he's lying. I have a stomachache and sore throat, says David, I think I have a fever, too--but Liz' check of his forehead says something else. She demands to know what's so important. Amy advises him to tell her. I can't! he insists, and races upstairs. She asks Amy if she knows what's wrong, but the little girl shakes her head no. The clock chimes; Liz says she has to leave; Roger will think something terrible has happened if no one is there to meet him--are you fond of David, Amy?--I believe my nephew is in some sort of trouble. Amy assures her she doesn't know what she means. Resigned, Liz heads out into the oncoming storm. Amy calls up to David that his aunt left--I could never have done what you did, says Amy--I'd have given in and gone--we must be very careful if we are to keep playing the game. Quentin gets them into lots and lots of trouble, they agree--what does Quentin really want?--what he asks of them doesn't make sense, like not telling Barnabas that Braithwaite was on his way--until after he gets there. Amy wishes they had never found Quentin's room!--why doesn't Quentin want Barnabas to know?
David says he doesn't know, and Quentin looks at him when he asks like he doesn't DESERVE to know--I used to like him, too, but now when you say that the things he asks of us don't make any sense, I think they DO, only Quentin is the only one who makes sense of them--he's doing something to all of us, but what is it?
Barnabas is packing his clothes in a suitcase when Amy knocks at Roger's door (which is where Barnabas has apparently been spending his nights with Roger in England). Amy asks where he's going. Back to the Old House, says Barn. She grabs his arm and shrilly begs him to stay at Collinwood--I'll miss you, she says, and you won't be there. He leads her to a love seat and they sit down on it. He reminds her of all the talks they had at Windcliff when they met (wish I could have been a fly on the wall)--we confided in each other--I miss that, he says, smiling, we haven't had one since you befriended David--you can always come to me, he assures her. Have you ever been afraid of anyone? asks Amy. (like Angelique?)
Of course, he admits. What did you do? she asks. Who are you afraid of, asks Barn--I'll help you better that way. Just a question, she insists--I was reading a story about a fearful little boy--I never thought of boys being afraid. . .she stands and walks away from him, hiding her lie. Barnabas asks, are you sure? She turns and leaps into his arms. "Oh, Barnabas, I wish I could go back to the Old House with you!" she cries--"or stay with Chris!"---I don't like this big, gloomy house! She presses herself closer to him. He embraces her. (This is one of DS' loveliest moments. You can picture it happening with Sarah, too--perhaps Barnabas thinks of his little sister at these times.)
Braithwaite bangs on Collinwood's door, over and over, afraid of the storm. David finally lets him in, introducing himself to the old man. I come from a long line of Ezra Braithwaites, he confides, a name you stick with!--David is a new-fangled name. David reminds him there's King David in the Bible. A good man, pronounces Ezra, who admires all the pretty pieces in the drawing room. He puts on his thing-seeing glasses and closely examines the candlestick--one of theirs. My father made this, says Ezra, who can only see David blearily and calls him "a curious boy." David wonders why he isn't wearing bifocals and instead has two pairs of glasses. Ezra sends David to get "Uncle" Barnabas, but David corrects him--that's my cousin. I have the record Barnabas wants, says Ezra. David leaves the room. Ezra finds an ashtray and comments that the Collinses have more silver than his shop does. (This is one funny, delightful character, and Vigoda had a wonderful time with him!) David closes the double doors, listens at them a moment, then leaves. Ezra finds a non-Braithwaite piece--we could have done it better, he claims. He opens the ledger and examines it closely. Quentin exits the secret panel, glaring at the poor old man.
Ezra pages through the ledger, mumbling to himself. He finds an entry, "April 16, 1897" and writes something down on a piece of paper. Quentin enters. Ezra greets him. I know you aren't Barnabas Collins, says Ezra--I assume you're the friend he spoke of. Quentin nods agreement. I got that information you and Barnabas wanted about the pentagram--I should have remembered it first thing--I made it myself! Quentin smiles and nods. I made it when I was 15 and a half, and engraved the quotation on the back--how could I forget the first piece of silver jewelry I made?--it's all in the ledger, in my own handwriting, one star medallion, engraved with quotation, "To guard you from the wrath of Cerberus," ordered by Miss Beth Chavez and charged to the account of Quentin Collins. The ghost looks very sad at this. All the information is here, for you and for Barnabas Collins. announces the old man--what is your name? The ghost remains silent, smiling. Ezra grins back, recognizing him--I don't remember your name, however. . .but then Ezra realizes it's Quentin Collins. . .oops. . .but you're dead!
"You're dead!" cries Ezra. Quentin leans in close to the poor old man, closer and closer. . .
Barnabas tells David, you must help us with Amy--what's wrong?--it's important. David changes the subject--Mr. Braithwaite is downstairs waiting for you--he called earlier, but things started happening--the man has a book to show you. They head downstairs.
Quentin is leafing through Ezra's ledger, smiling, nodding. He disappears with it into the secret panel. Barnabas orders David to go to bed--your father's plane might be delayed in the storm. Barnabas opens the door; David follows him in. Braithwaite appears to be slouching over the desk. Maybe he fell asleep, suggests David. Barnabas greets him, touches his shoulder. Ezra falls from the chair. "NO!" cries David. Barnabas quickly demands the boy not to come in. "What's happened to him?" demands David. Barnabas orders him to get Julia. "He CAN'T be dead!" moans David, not moving.
Barnabas repeats--get Julia! Barnabas kneels over Ezra Braithwaite, who certainly looks dead, eyes open and staring wide through his Coke bottle lenses.
NOTES: So Quentin has nastily dispensed with another pesky visitor with answers to important questions, and taken the evidence away with him. So, the silver pentagram found with the infant's remains was bought by Beth--and charged to Quentin. Was this their child, perhaps? What was the pentagram used for in this instance? Loved Abe Vigoda, didn't you? Funny how Abe Vigoda played old men during his career. He looks much like Fish here, but I think the aging is an excellent makeup job.
Sounds like the kids are beginning to wish they'd never met Quentin, yet he continues putting them under his spell, possessing them, bringing them back around to his way of thinking and doing things. David was genuinely horrified to see what happened to Ezra, and realized he was partly to blame for it. Quentin is using the kids of course, but what is his goal?
I have always loved the scene between Amy and Barnabas. They're so good together! I always envisioned Barnabas as a fierce, loving protector of his daughters, but probably more like Joshua was toward any sons he might have. Then again, perhaps time would temper Papa Barnabas (who would, I'm sure, do far better with his own babies than the adult baby, Adam, that he brought into the world).
Love, Robin
