880 - Behind the wall, Trask cries desperately for help, banging fruitlessly on the brick wall, which won't budge. There's got to be a way, he tells himself. He checks the windows, but they've been bolted shut, too. He presses his ear to the brick wall and asks, who's out there? demanding an answer: "Judith, is it you? Have you repented this sin, Judith? Answer me, whoever you are!" No one answers him.
Trask listens, silent for a moment, and concludes no one is here, it's my imagination. Someone is bound to come--Quentin!--he must.
Quentin returns to Collinwood and hangs up his coat. He's about to head upstairs when Judith stops him and explains, I closed the west wing and had all your things moved to another bedroom--it was really getting expensive with only you in it. Quentin chuckles--I'm OK with it. What happened to Amanda's portrait? he asks. I had it removed, says Judith--I found it no longer pleased me, as it's not the kind of picture you can live with very long--you will never see it again, swears Judith--I destroyed it. I think something is happening around here, opines Q--what? I might as well tell you, says Judith--two men tried to kill me tonight, perhaps the same ones who killed Evan. I heard about that in town, says Q. Judith observes, you aren't mourning for Evan--would you mourn for me?--no, I don't think so, you and Edward would have shown little sorrow. Well, your husband would have made up for us, says Q, at the surface, anyway. Gregory is gone, too, she says--he rushed out after the two men and never returned--it's been over two hours and the police can't find him--I fear those two men did something terrible to him. If so, says Q, you are to be congratulated. "I might have known that would be your attitude," chides Judith. I'll go search for Trask, offers Quentin, if you're sure you want it--wouldn't your life be far less complicated if you just forget about your husband? "I will NEVER forget him," says Judith defiantly. Then, says Q, I will do you the favor of searching for him. He starts going upstairs, remarking, I'm sure the servants missed something in my room. Judith pursues him--you can't go up there, she insists--I had the lock changed. To the door of the west wing? he asks, incredulous--"Give me the key." I don't want anyone ever going to the west wing again, says Judith--I'm mistress of the house and you will obey my orders. He smiles crookedly, wondering what she's up to.
Trask, looking rather disheveled, wonders, what in the room might get me out? He walks around--ah, Quentin had a telephone! He searches for the cord and finds it in the roll-top desk. He takes out the phone and tries reaching the operator, but hears nothing but static. He calls "OPERATOR!" fruitlessly over and over. She planned it this way, he realizes, how dare she! I will get out of this room, I swear, and then I will kill her himself!
Cemetery - Aristede continues to flee Garth Blackwood, his relentless pursuer. Quentin, searching for Trask, exits the family mausoleum. Aristede calls to him. Quentin holds up his lantern, and is surprised to see Aristede. I know you have no reason to help me, says Aristede, but it's your fault this all happened; it started when you sent me to kill Petofi. Quentin laughs at him. Please help me, pleads Aristede--Trask was going to help me but the carriage he promised wasn't awaiting me--nor was Trask--Blackwood will kill me, cries Aristede, he's a devil straight from hell! "Whoever he is, I wish him luck, Aristede," says Quentin cruelly. Blackwood has spotted the pair and peers at them through the gate. Hearing the chain, Aristede says, "My God, he's here!" and takes off. Quentin grabs him and tries to hold him there. (we see a tombstone that says CAROLYN COLLINS STODDARD) The men grapple. Aristede gets away and leaves Quentin to Blackwood, who slings his chain around Quentin's throat and begins to strangle him.
"What did the prisoner want?" demands Blackwood. Help, squeaks out Quentin. He was your friend, accuses Blackwood. Quentin assures him this isn't so--you saw me trying to stop him, didn't you, trying to hold him here? Appeased, Garth releases him--you did well, he says--he who aids and abets the prisoner must die. Blackwood, hitting everything in his path with the chain, leaves.
Trask hears hammering going on outside the window. He tells that person, if you go for the police, I will give you anything you want--thousands of dollars. The hammering stops. Come back! Trask screams, banging on the windows. The phone rings. Trask rushes to answer. It's Judith, who doesn't answer him as he yells, "I'm Gregory Trask!" She hangs up on him without saying a word. When she calls back seconds later, he begs for help, explaining, I'm trapped in this room at Collinwood--whoever you are go for the police. This time, Judith speaks to him--I didn't know you were such an optimist. Judith, he says, surprised. Who else? she asks, I'm the only one who knows how to reach you. For God's sake, he begs.
Are you enjoying your retreat? asks Judith. You must let me out! he insists, desperate. How familiar that sounds, she says, I used to say it every day at the sanitarium, but they wouldn't listen to me--you arranged that--so now I don't have to listen to you! You must, he wails, this isn't like you! Perhaps you never took the trouble to get to know me, she suggests. You're a Christian woman, he says. I'm only doing my duty, says Judith, given that you're so fond of meditating, and now you can do it under ideal circumstances. Someone will come! he shouts--someone will let me out! I don't see how that is possible, says Judith--I've closed the west wing--forever! What? he demands. You were saying only the other evening, she reminds him, how you wanted to spend the rest of your life in this house--now that's possible--"I've arranged it." "Judith," says Trask, "if ever you felt any love for me..." You will not get out of that room, she promises--"You see, I knew about the death you intended for me...goodnight, Gregory." He cries out her name, but she's already hung up. Trask hangs up, too, and says, I cannot believe it, I cannot. He looks around the room, noting how dark it is. He takes a two-candle candelabra and lights it with his one candle. How many candles?--I must think of that--I will get no more. What will I do. He hears the door squeak. The ghost of Beth appears. "No, you're dead!" he gasps, terrified. "Quentin!" calls Beth. "Where is Quentin? Quentin, I must find you!" Yes, calls Trask--find Quentin, tell him I'm here, tell him...to come to this room, you can make him come, please! Beth fades away. Trask presses against the solid brick wall, freaking out with fear.
Quentin returns home, nursing his throat. He hears his music playing in the drawing room and goes in. Beth stands looking out the window. She steps down into his sight. He turns away from her and says, "I knew you'd come back!" When he turns back to face her, she is sobbing. "I didn' t mean for you to die, I didn't mean it!" he tells her. "I tried to tell you that I wasn't Petofi! Beth, can you ever rest?" "Not until..." says Beth.
"What?" he asks. "I'll do anything...anything." "Until you know," says Beth, "that I forgive you." And she disappears. "Come back!" screams Quentin--"Don't you understand, I don't forgive myself--for what I did to you--for the part I played--please hear me!" He covers his face with his hands and sinks into a chair.
Aristede returns to the mill, wondering, will I be safe here until I think of what to do? He hears a sound. A woman comes tearing out of the back room, threatening, "I'll kill you, I'll kill you!" She has a knife ready to plunge into Aristede, and he grapples with her.
Aristede wrests the knife from the girl's hand and takes it into his own. I have a new enemy, he realizes, and tries to force her to turn around and face him. No, she says. He presses the knife against her throat; she spits in his face. That wasn't very smart, he says. She proudly faces him--my name is Romano, she says. His widow, says Aristede. "King Johnny's wife!" she insists--"I will never be anything else!--I've come to carry out his curse!" Against me? asks Aristede. "And I'll do it!" she vows--"You will pay!" "I will, or Count Petofi?" he asks. Both, she assures him. I was just his servant, protests Aristede--Petofi is your enemy. "You tell me that," she scoffs. If I give you Petofi, will you take the curse off me? he asks. Never, she says. If I travel with you, become one of you, prove myself to you? adds Aristede. Why would you do this? she asks. Escape, says Aristede, I swear I can give you Petofi tonight, but you must promise to protect me from my enemies. Any member of my tribe would do that, she says, if we got the hand back. He's ill, very ill, says Aristede--he's wounded--I myself did it--it's one of the reasons I must get out of here. IF he's so very sick, she asks, where is he?--tell me! As soon as you tell me you'll take me with you, insists Aristede. If you came with us, she says, you would have to change--you'd have to become one of us, forget everything Petofi taught you, learn to trust, because that's what we live by.
I know that, says Aristede--all right, I agree--I'll prove I can be one of you--he's at the studio of an artist named Charles Tate--I'll draw you a map, show you how to get there--no, I'll take you there myself. No, she says, you talk too easily, words can cover up traps. Go yourself, he says, but it's no trap, I swear. He shows her how to get to Tate's house. Wait here, she orders, I will return. She leaves. Aristede is a nervous wreck.
Quentin sits brooding in the drawing room. Judith comes in--I thought I heard someone--go to bed. Yes, I know, he says, the green bedroom--aren't you going to ask me how my search for your husband came out? I assumed you found nothing, says Judith. You assume correctly, says Q--if a little too easily. She looks at him--what does that mean? I don't know, for once, he says but I will find out--the question of your missing husband DOES interest me... I don't know why he should, says Judith--when you were here, you constantly wanted him out of the house. I like all my stories to have endings, insists Quentin--the honorable Rev. Trask story--it is ended, isn't it? No, not yet, says Judith. Both of them wear the same half smiles. "Judith," asks Q, "did we ever confide in each other, perhaps when we were children?" Judith admits, I was never given to confiding. Then it's probably too late for you to start now, says Q. Yes, agrees Judith.
Wherever he is, says Quentin, I know you're happier for it. She looks at him, silent.
Trask ponders an eternity in this place--it's insupportable! There must be a way! Will no one ever come? He sits down. Will this room be my grave?
In the woods, Mrs. Johnny Romano has the misfortune to run into Garth Blackwood. What do you want? she asks. You were helping the prisoner, he accuses. You're crazy, she says--I don't know any prisoners. How do you plead to the charge? asks Garth--I pronounce you guilty, since you gave him refuge. Get out of my way, she orders. By the power invested in me, I give you the same punishment the prisoner must endure! He loops the chain around her throat and strangles her as she struggles and screams.
Aristede searches through a drawer and finds some money. He is counting it when someone enters the mill--Blackwood, who orders, "Surrender, prisoner!" He chases Aristede around the small room, ordering, surrender, face justice, there is no other way. It's a short battle, as Garth Blackwood metes out capital punishment to Aristede.
NOTES: We've had a lot of deaths in the past few episodes. Poor Mrs. Romano, she seemed like such a fun, murderous character, too, but a bullseye nevertheless!
Love the way Trask is slowly going crazy as a result of Judith's little plot. Quentin seems to know she's done something, but he is just letting her get away with it, because he apparently applauds it. Good for them both. This is one brother sister team that will never win awards for sibling closeness, but they certainly agree on the matter of Trask.
Beth's asking Quentin to forgive her always brings tears to my eyes. So sad. She was the victim yet she's asking for his forgiveness? Even her ghost is a doormat, poor thing. Still, it was a very poignant, sad scene. I was also glad she threw a nibble of hope and fear into Trask.
Judith is so good here. I love her deviousness and cruelty. It couldn't be happening to a more deserving fellow than Trask, and she's having so much fun with it, calling him and taunting him. An eye for an eye, and Judith is getting hers!
Will Aristede die, too? I wasn't sure about Evan, but he's dead, so...
Missing Barnabas, of course, but that's always the way with me.
1897 is rapidly winding down.
881 - In a re-working of yesterday's ending, Aristede drops the money he's counting when Garth lurches downstairs and orders him to face death. He loops the chain around Aristede's throat, shouting, "Justice must be done!"
Aristede struggles against the chain encircling his throat, begging Garth, let me speak! Blackwood insists--there's nothing you can say to save your life. Aristede offers to save Blackwood's existence--"You were brought here to kill me, but once you've done that, those who brought you will have no use for you--they will destroy you."
I will do the destroying, asserts Blacwood, after I deals with YOU, for insubordination, conspiracy, jailbreak and the murder of Garth Blackwood. Tate, arriving at the mill, overhears Aristede's final scream, and Garth proclaiming, The prisoner is executed!" Wisely, Tate thinks twice about going in. Blackwood comes upstairs and Charles, standing in the doorway, opts to flee. Blackwood leaves the mill. Tate waits until he's gone, then enters the mill himself. Aristede lies on the floor. Tate kneels to look him over--he's dead, exactly as Petofi said he would be.
Back at the studio, Petofi pours himself a drink. To Aristede, he toasts--Charles, we spent many pleasant hours together, but in the final test, he proved disloyal. He didn't look so pleasant lying on the floor in the mill, says Charles coldly. Death seldom shows us at our best, says Petofi--you shouldn't upset yourself over Aristede. Aristede wasn't Garth's only victim, says Charles--on his way back here, he stumbled on the body of a woman. Whatever she did to anger the Master of Dartmoor, says Petofi, she won't do it again. You look so self-satisfied, says Charles, but then you don't know who the woman was. Why should I care? asks P. The woman was a gypsy! cries Tate, right in Petofi's face. This catches the old man's attention--where did you see her? Close to here, says Tate. She must have known I was here, says Petofi, thanks to Aristede--his last act of betrayal--I must hurry, I have no time to lose. He stands but nearly passes out. Tate warns him against going anywhere. My psychic powers are as weak as this body, says Petofi, I won't he able to go anywhere, but I must escape them--I must and will, I, Petofi, can do anything, and I must go to the future now--I'm going as Quentin, that is how I'll go, he vows. He has his own body back, Tate reminds him. I have mine back, too, says Petofi--and the power of the hand as well--when one loses an engagement, one doesn't surrender, one fights harder to win the next--I must act now, there are many reasons for me to go to the future, but not one to stay here. Garth Blackwood, Tate reminds him. He's done what I wished him to do, says Petofi, he doesn't matter anymore. Yes, he does, says Tate, you brought him from the depths of hell and must see that he goes back there. Why should I take the time to do that? asks Petofi. Besides the woman and Aristede, Blackwood strangled Evan Hanley, Tate reminds him. I don't care about Hanley, says Petofi--he sought death in the dark corners of the mind--and now he found it. (Such a cold man, reminds me of Goldfinger!) Tomorrow, he'll strangle others, warns Tate--the man is a maniac. And no concern of mine, says Petofi--tomorrow I will be 72 years in the future, in 1969! What about me? asks Tate. What about you? asks Petofi. After you have gone, he might come after me, retorts Charles--what should I do? Lock your doors and windows, advises Petofi, I haven't time for these arguments, and in the final accounting, you are of no importance, neither is Quentin Collins, nor is anyone whose path may cross that of Blackwood--only I am important, and I'm going to the future--the rest of you may fend for yourselves! The door opens--it's a glaring Blackwood. You are both my prisoners, he announces, and the penalty is DEATH!
Blackwood wraps his chain around Charles' throat. Petofi uses his magic hand to force him to release Tate. Charles backed away, grateful the hand worked. There is something in this demon that resists me, says Petofi--I don't know how long the hand will work. Remembering that Tate shot his other creation, Petofi, still holding the creature at bay, orders, get your gun--quickly, I doesn't know how much longer I can do this! No longer, announces Garth, advancing on Petofi--you can obstruct justice no longer! Charles presses the trigger several times, and finally succeeds in pumping two bullets into Blackwood, who falls to the floor. Charles whispers, "He didn't disintegrate!" Get some rope and tie him up, orders Petofi--and hurry! Tate does as ordered, and as he binds Blackwood, the Dartmoor master keeps giving him the evil eye. Don't be afraid of him, he can't hurt you now, says Petofi. "You have shot the Master of Dartmoor!" cries Garth. "You have committed the ultimate crime, the penalty for that is certain death!" He isn't dead, says Charles, just unconscious. I am going to begin my trance, says Petofi--you can wait and watch Blackwood die--soon you'll be rid of him, as you wanted, says Petofi. I don't want to stay, protests Tate, but relents and says I'll do it. Petofi goes into another room while Tate sits on the sofa, staring at the trussed-up body of Garth Blackwood. As Charles walks around the body, Blackwood suddenly returns to consciousness, shouting and adjusting his hat. Charles calls to Petofi, who comes out. Garth takes his chain and weakly slams it down against a chair and says, I can't kill you now, much as I'd like to, but this is only a stay of execution, you are sentenced to die, and I will carry it out, later.
He lurches off into the night. I wonder how he broke loose from the rope? Says Tate. With his last burst of strength, guesses Petofi--dying now, no doubt about it.
Drawing room - Quentin, exhausted, glances through a family album. I have so much to do before I leave Collinwood, he thinks--I must keep going, no matter how tired I am. Charity enters. Her tone nasty, she says, I'm sorry, I didn't know the room was occupied. She turns back and realizes its really IS Quentin. I'm so happy you're all right, she bubbles--you beat Petofi at his own vile game. I won't really be free of him until I leave Collinwood, he says. She's upset to hear he's leaving, but agrees he must--Petofi isn't done with you, and won't be until you go where you can't be found. I'm taking the early train tomorrow, he says, and will be in New York shortly thereafter. I suppose you won't be coming back here anymore, she murmurs, her feelings for him clearly evident. Not for a long, long time, he says. By then, laments Charity, I won't be as pretty as I am now--everyone changes, grows older--I wish you didn't have to go. I have to, he says. I know, says Charity--you can't always get your wish in this life--I wish we could fall in love like some ordinary Mary and Jim and get married and settle down, with little nippers of our own. (awww!) To tell the honest truth, adds Charity, I still wish that--I'd have given up my career for you. He smiles gently at her and says, I'd never ask you to do that. Of course you wouldn't, she says, so you'll just have to go without me. She looks at the trunk--what's that all about? she asks. My history, he says--letters, pictures, papers I was going through to see if there was anything worth taking. She notes how tired he looks. I haven't hasn't slept for a couple of nights, he admits. Go to bed now, she advises--worry about this in the morning. No, I must keep going, he insists. He shows her a photo of himself, age 10--before I knew what life was all about. You were a love, she says--can I keep it?--I'll give you a picture of me to take along, if you'd like it, it's really quite nice. I'd like that, he says. Some people might think it a bit racy, she says, but you just tell 'em that's Pansy Faye, she was part of my history, too, and don't you forget that, Luv.
He smiles at her. (This is such a sweet scene, it really gets to me. She is so in love with him, and he knows it, but he's just being gentle and kind, brotherly, and it's a nice side of Quentin.)
I'm beginning my concentration, Charles, says Petofi, and when I'm in a deep trance, you can leave me--I don't know how long the trance will last, it depends on Quentin playing his part, too--as long as he remains in control of his own mind, I can't recapture his body, but the moment he sleeps, and his mind relaxes its vigil, his body is mine again--Quentin's part is very simple, and inevitable.
Back at Collinwood, Quentin is drowsy, very close to dropping off to sleep.
Sitting at a table in main room of the studio, Petofi concentrates.
The picture is apparently all I'm getting from you, teases Charity, so I might as well go to bed. I feel strange, says Quentin. What's the matter? She asks. Staying up two nights, a person begins to feel it, he says. Are you sure that's all it is? she asks--maybe you should go to bed now and finish this up in the morning. I have to get my life in order now, he says. Take a little nap, have some brandy, she suggests. I will, he says--go upstairs and let me finish. He stands and asks, do you mind my coming up to say goodbye before I leave? I wouldn't mind at all, she assures him--good night. "Good night, Pansy," he replies. He pours a drink and puts on his jacket, then sits down, drinking, by the fireplace.
Petofi concentrates, working on successfully performing the body exchange trick again. In her room, Charity, lying in bed, thinks to herself, he's really going--nothing will stop him now, no one. It abruptly hits her--someone IS going to stop him, if he can have his way, someone--who is it?--I've got to see what's happening to him!
She sees a vision of Q's hand holding a glass, which drops from his hand to the floor as he falls asleep. Quentin's music plays. Tate enters and Quentin wakes up and says, "Charles, it's done, exactly as I said it would be! The minute Quentin Collins fell asleep--did you bring the wands?" Charles hands him the wands, and PIQB says, the minute I throw them, I'll be starting toward the future--the brief taste of it I had only whetted my appetite--and now I am voracious for the future! You can't do it here, at Collinwood, objects Tate. I can, says PIQB, and when they awaken, body will be gone for all time! It might be dangerous, warns Tate. I am determined to it right here, insists Petofi--no more time to lose. The vision disappears. Charity realizes there really IS no time to lose--the minute Quentin falls asleep, Petofi will have him--forever! Horrified, Charity slides out of bed and goes down to the drawing room, where Quentin is drinking his brandy. Mustn't sleep, he tells himself drowsily--too much to do before I leave, but maybe...just for a minute... The glass begins to fall, as in Charity/Pansy's vision.
NOTES: Oh, no, will Petofi take over Quentin's body again, and this time succeed in kidnapping it to the future? Or will Charity get down there in time to prevent it from happening, now that she's seen a complete vision of what is to take place?
I so loved the scene between Charity/Pansy and Quentin. They do make a nice looking couple, but he's never even thought of her romantically. And perhaps she only feels the way she does because of her feelings for Carl.
Isn't this thrilling?
Love, Robin
