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                              THE BEST EXOTIC MARIGOLD HOTEL                                      Written by                                      OlParker          Based on the book THESE FOOLISH THINGS by DeborahMoggach                                                                                10/01/11                                                                           1 OVER BLACK 1          Muffled music;soothing, generic.                         AUTOMATED VOICE          Thank you for your patience.          Your call is important to us. We          will be with you shortly.          2 INT. MANSION FLAT, LONDON -DAY 2          A neat, well-appointed flat, tastefully decorated. Framed          against a large window which looks out over the city, an          elegant woman in her 70's: EVELYN GREENSLADE. She's onthe          phone, on hold.          On the desk in front of her is a brand new laptop computer;          the screen reads 'Getting Started ...'                         AUTOMATED VOICE                         (ONPHONE)          Thank you for your patience.          Your call is important to us. We          will be with you shortly.          Evelyn's patience is strained nonetheless. She taps her          fingers on thedesk.          AUTOMATED VOICE (cont'd)                         (ON PHONE)          Thank you for your patience.          Your call is -          A slightly-accented voice finally interrupts.                         FEMALEVOICE          Mrs Greenslade, thank you for                         WAITING -                         EVELYN                         (OVERLAPPING)          Yes, now if you could stay on the          phonefor a moment and talk to          me, just talk to me. I'm not          even clear, I don't actually          understand what it is I'm trying          to order. Is wireless the same          as wi-fi? And what do either of          themhave to do with broadband?                         FEMALE VOICE          Mrs Greenslade, since the account          is not in your name, before we          can make any changes we need to          speak to the accountholder. Can          I please talk to the account          holder?                                                                                EVELYN          What?                         FEMALEVOICE          I'm asking if I can speak to the          account holder. Before we can          make any changes -                         EVELYN          You can't talk to him,no.                         (BEAT)          He's dead. He died. There's          only me.          3 INT. CORRIDOR/JUDGES CHAMBERS. INNS OF COURT - NIGHT 3          GILES, a judge in full wig and robes,moves quickly down a          corridor. He passes other judges, going the opposite way.          He arrives at the office of GRAHAM DASHWOOD, goes in.          GRAHAM is at his desk. His robes are on a hanger, hiswig          is on a stand beside him.                         GILES          We're late.          4 INT. CORRIDOR. INNS OF COURT - NIGHT 4          Moments later. Graham and Giles walk down thecorridor.                         GRAHAM          Bloody retirement parties. Hard          cheese, soft wine, and endless          speeches. Why do people do that?          No one ever said about any kind          of party: itwas a wonderful          occasion, just a shame that the          speeches were so short.                         GILES          it'll be you one day.                         GRAHAM          One day verysoon.                         GILES          You've been saying that for          years.          They walk into a large room, full of lawyers.          4A INT. HALL. INNS OF COURT - CONTINUOUS 4A          At oneend of the hall, a very old JUDGE is giving a very          dull speech.                                                                                3.                         JUDGE          An occasion such asthis leads          one to cast ones mind back to the          days when I first entered my          pupillage. I had the very good          fortune of serving as a junior to          Mr Justice Stancombe          Graham's notlistening any more. He's looking around the          room. At the old, tired faces.                         JUDGE (CONT'D)          . the unwelcome news that I          would transfer Chambers, bringing          to mindthe old adage a fronte          praecipitium, a tergo 1upi          Everything seems to slow down, the judge's mouth moving          more and more sluggishly, though his voice remains the          same. The effect is strange.. then the sound of laughter.                         GRAHAM          This is the day.          Everyone looks round at him. He's almost as surprised as          they are that he's spoken outloud.                         GILES          Graham?                         GRAHAM          This is the day.          He turns and walks out.          5 INT. HOSPITAL - DAY 5          Staff bustle around a busyA & E ward. MURIEL lies on a          bed in the corridor.          The Head Nurse, KAREN, rushes past.                         MURIEL          Listen, young lady. I want a cup          of tea, and I want itnow.                         KAREN          The trolley will be along          shortly.                         MURIEL          How hard d'you have to fall down          before you get some proper          attention? HoursI've been lying          here, and not a single doctor has          come to see me.                                                                                3A.                         KAREN          Nowthat's not quite true, is it          Mrs Donnelly?                         (MORE)                                                                                4.                         KAREN(CONT'D)          A doctor did try and examine you,          and you sent him away.                         MURIEL          That one?          She looks up to the far end of the ward, where a doctor is          washinghis hands. He's black.                         MURIEL          He can wash all he likes, that          colour's not coming out. I want          an English doctor.                         KAREN          An English doctor?Why didn't          you say so? I'll get one right          away.          She goes away, comes back moments later with a tall,          handsome doctor. The bad news for Muriel is                         KAREN(CONT'D)          This is Dr Ghujarapartidar. And          this is Mrs Donnelly.          5A EXT. NEW HOUSING ESTATE - DAY 5A          A crescent of identical bungalows, part of a brand new          retirementfacility.          A mobility scooter carrying an elderly resident trundles          down the road.          ESTATE AGENT (O.S.)          .. with an unlimited range of          leisure opportunities just a          stone'sthrow away...          6 INT. NEW HOUSING DEVELOPMENT - DAY 6          A young estate agent, EVAN, is showing DOUGLAS and JEAN          around a very small, and very beigebungalow.                         EVAN          So as I say, what you're looking          at here is very competitively          priced, you can't get better          value for your grey pound.          Another little feature,not          necessary right now, but give it          a couple of years                         (POINTS)          . rails on the walls to help          you get around, and down here, a          panic button in case of asudden          fall, brings the Warden running.                                                                                4A.                         JEAN          What if we fell somewhereelse?                         EVAN          Sorry?                         JEAN          It's just that we might not          manage to plan our sudden fall in          the exact corner where thebutton          is.                         EVAN          Yeah. As I say -                                                                                5.                         JEAN          And would it bepossible to get          the rail to go through the middle          of the room as well?                         DOUGLAS                         DARLING                         JEAN          To help us get across,not just          around?                         DOUGLAS                         (TO EVAN)          Could we have a moment, please?          Thanks. Thanks so much.          Evangoes.                         JEAN          Thirty years in the Civil Service          and this is all we can afford?                         DOUGLAS          Would it help if Iapologized          again?                         JEAN          No. But try it anyway.          7 INT. BAR - NIGHT 7           JUDITH (40ish) is sitting opposite someone. We don'tsee           whom.                         JUDITH          And then after that I worked as a          systems analyst for a few years          but I just found it so dull, what          I really wanted was to do          somethingthat was more creative,          that matched my ...                         (BEAT)          I'm sorry. On the form they          asked for our age bracket, and          the age we wanted to meet . and          in both cases Iticked 35-45.          Now we see the man she's talking to. It's NORMAN. He's          dapper, nice looking. And at least 70.                         NORMAN          That's right, yes. So did I.          They're at a speeddating evening. Numbered tables, etc.                         NORMAN (CONT'D)          Anyway, don't stop. Something                         MORECREATIVE                                                                                6.                         JUDITH          How old are you?                         NORMAN          Early40's.                         JUDITH          D'you mean you were born in the          early 40's?                         NORMAN          Judy, I know what you're asking-                         JUDITH          It's Judith.                         NORMAN          Judith. And trust me, I've still          got it.          The bell goes; the signal for the women to get up and move          alongto the next table. Judith leaves without looking          back.                         NORMAN (CONT'D)          I just can't find anyone that          wants it.          Another hopeful candidate arrives opposite Norman.And          looks crestfallen at what's on offer.          8 INT/EXT. BEDROOM/STAIRS/HALL. FAMILY HOUSE - DAY 8          MADGE is in her bedroom. She's arguing with her son-in-law          CRAIG. Madge'ssuitcases are by the door.                         CRAIG          This is crazy. You're crazy.          You can't just up and leave like          this.                         MADGE          And yet if you watch me,


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg EBook of Riders of the Purple Sage, by Zane GreyThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use itunder the terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Riders of the Purple SageAuthor: Zane GreyPosting Date: November 7, 2009  [Etext #1300]Release Date:April, 2000Last updated: February 3, 2011Last updated: June 23, 2013Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE ***Produced by Bill Brewer and RickFaneRIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGEBy Zane GreyCHAPTER I. LASSITERA sharp clip-crop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and cloudsof yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage.JaneWithersteen gazed down the wide purple slope with dreamy andtroubled eyes. A rider had just left her and it was his message thatheld her thoughtful and almost sad, awaiting the churchmen who werecoming to resentand attack her right to befriend a Gentile.She wondered if the unrest and strife that had lately come to thelittle village of Cottonwoods was to involve her. And then she sighed,remembering that her father had foundedthis remotest border settlementof southern Utah and that he had left it to her. She owned all theground and many of the cottages. Withersteen House was hers, and thegreat ranch, with its thousands of cattle, and theswiftest horses ofthe sage. To her belonged Amber Spring, the water which gave verdureand beauty to the village and made living possible on that wild purpleupland waste. She could not escape being involved bywhatever befellCottonwoods.That year, 1871, had marked a change which had been gradually comingin the lives of the peace-loving Mormons of the border. Glaze--StoneBridge--Sterling, villages to the north, had risenagainst theinvasion of Gentile settlers and the forays of rustlers. There had beenopposition to the one and fighting with the other. And now Cottonwoodshad begun to wake and bestir itself and grown hard.Jane prayedthat the tranquillity and sweetness of her life would not bepermanently disrupted. She meant to do so much more for her people thanshe had done. She wanted the sleepy quiet pastoral days to last always.Troublebetween the Mormons and the Gentiles of the community wouldmake her unhappy. She was Mormon-born, and she was a friend to poorand unfortunate Gentiles. She wished only to go on doing good and beinghappy.And she thought of what that great ranch meant to her. She lovedit all--the grove of cottonwoods, the old stone house, the amber-tintedwater, and the droves of shaggy, dusty horses and mustangs, thesleek,clean-limbed, blooded racers, and the browsing herds of cattle and thelean, sun-browned riders of the sage.While she waited there she forgot the prospect of untoward change. Thebray of a lazy burro broke theafternoon quiet, and it was comfortinglysuggestive of the drowsy farmyard, and the open corrals, and the greenalfalfa fields. Her clear sight intensified the purple sage-slope as itrolled before her. Low swells ofprairie-like ground sloped up tothe west. Dark, lonely cedar-trees, few and far between, stood outstrikingly, and at long distances ruins of red rocks. Farther on, up thegradual slope, rose a broken wall, a hugemonument, looming dark purpleand stretching its solitary, mystic way, a wavering line that fadedin the north. Here to the westward was the light and color and beauty.Northward the slope descended to a dim line ofcanyons from which rosean up-flinging of the earth, not mountainous, but a vast heave of purpleuplands, with ribbed and fan-shaped walls, castle-crowned cliffs, andgray escarpments. Over it all crept the lengthening,waning afternoonshadows.The rapid beat of hoofs recalled Jane Withersteen to the question athand. A group of riders cantered up the lane, dismounted, and threwtheir bridles. They were seven in number, and Tull, theleader, a tall,dark man, was an elder of Jane's church."Did you get my message?" he asked, curtly."Yes," replied Jane."I sent word I'd give that rider Venters half an hour to come down tothe village. He didn'tcome.""He knows nothing of it;" said Jane. "I didn't tell him. I've beenwaiting here for you.""Where is Venters?""I left him in the courtyard.""Here, Jerry," called Tull, turning to his men, "take the gang and fetchVentersout here if you have to rope him."The dusty-booted and long-spurred riders clanked noisily into the groveof cottonwoods and disappeared in the shade."Elder Tull, what do you mean by this?" demanded Jane. "If youmustarrest Venters you might have the courtesy to wait till he leaves myhome. And if you do arrest him it will be adding insult to injury. It'sabsurd to accuse Venters of being mixed up in that shooting fray in thevillagelast night. He was with me at the time. Besides, he let me takecharge of his guns. You're only using this as a pretext. What do youmean to do to Venters?""I'll tell you presently," replied Tull. "But first tell me whyyoudefend this worthless rider?""Worthless!" exclaimed Jane, indignantly. "He's nothing of the kind.He was the best rider I ever had. There's not a reason why I shouldn'tchampion him and every reason why I should.It's no little shame to me,Elder Tull, that through my friendship he has roused the enmity of mypeople and become an outcast. Besides I owe him eternal gratitude forsaving the life of little Fay.""I've heard of your lovefor Fay Larkin and that you intend to adopther. But--Jane Withersteen, the child is a Gentile!""Yes. But, Elder, I don't love the Mormon children any less because Ilove a Gentile child. I shall adopt Fay if her mother willgive her tome.""I'm not so much against that. You can give the child Mormon teaching,"said Tull. "But I'm sick of seeing this fellow Venters hang around you.I'm going to put a stop to it. You've so much love to throwaway onthese beggars of Gentiles that I've an idea you might love Venters."Tull spoke with the arrogance of a Mormon whose power could not bebrooked and with the passion of a man in whom jealousy had kindledaconsuming fire."Maybe I do love him," said Jane. She felt both fear and anger stir herheart. "I'd never thought of that. Poor fellow! he certainly needs someone to love him.""This'll be a bad day for Venters unless youdeny that," returned Tull,grimly.Tull's men appeared under the cottonwoods and led a young man out intothe lane. His ragged clothes were those of an outcast. But he stood talland straight, his wide shoulders flungback, with the muscles of hisbound arms rippling and a blue flame of defiance in the gaze he bent onTull.For the first time Jane Withersteen felt Venters's real spirit. Shewondered if she would love this splendid youth.Then her emotion cooledto the sobering sense of the issue at stake."Venters, will you leave Cottonwoods at once and forever?" asked Tull,tensely."Why?" rejoined the rider."Because I order it."Venters laughed in cooldisdain.The red leaped to Tull's dark cheek."If you don't go it means your ruin," he said, sharply."Ruin!" exclaimed Venters, passionately. "Haven't you already ruined me?What do you call ruin? A year ago I was a rider.I had horses and cattleof my own. I had a good name in Cottonwoods. And now when I come intothe village to see this woman you set your men on me. You hound me. Youtrail me as if I were a rustler. I've no more tolose--except my life.""Will you leave Utah?""Oh! I know," went on Venters, tauntingly, "it galls you, the idea ofbeautiful Jane Withersteen being friendly to a poor Gentile. You wanther all yourself. You're a wivingMormon. You have use for her--andWithersteen House and Amber Spring and seven thousand head of cattle!"Tull's hard jaw protruded, and rioting blood corded the veins of hisneck."Once more. Will yougo?""NO!""Then I'll have you whipped within an inch of your life," replied Tull,harshly. "I'll turn you out in the sage. And if you ever come backyou'll get worse."Venters's agitated face grew coldly set and the bronzechangedJane impulsively stepped forward. "Oh! Elder Tull!" she cried. "Youwon't do that!"Tull lifted a shaking finger toward her."That'll do from you. Understand, you'll not be allowed to hold this boyto a friendshipthat's offensive to your Bishop. Jane Withersteen, yourfather left you wealth and power. It has turned your head. You haven'tyet come to see the place of Mormon women. We've reasoned with you,borne with you.We've patiently waited. We've let you have your fling,which is more than I ever saw granted to a Mormon woman. But you haven'tcome to your senses. Now, once for all, you can't have any furtherfriendship withVenters. He's going to be whipped, and he's got to leaveUtah!""Oh! Don't whip him! It would be dastardly!" implored Jane, with slowcertainty of her failing courage.Tull always blunted her spirit, and she grew consciousthat she hadfeigned a boldness which she did not possess. He loomed up now indifferent guise, not as a jealous suitor, but embodying the mysteriousdespotism she had known from childhood--the power of hercreed."Venters, will you take your whipping here or would you rather go outin the sage?" asked Tull. He smiled a flinty smile that was morethan inhuman, yet seemed to give out of its dark aloofness a gleamofrighteousness."I'll take it here--if I must," said Venters. "But by God!--Tull you'dbetter kill me outright. That'll be a dear whipping for you and yourpraying Mormons. You'll make me another Lassiter!"The strangeglow, the austere light which radiated from Tull's face,might have been a holy joy at the spiritual conception of exalted duty.But there was something more in him, barely hidden, a something personaland sinister, adeep of himself, an engulfing abyss. As his religiousmood was fanatical and inexorable, so would his physical hate bemerciless."Elder, I--I repent my words," Jane faltered. The religion in her, thelong habit of obedience,of humility, as well as agony of fear, spoke inher voice. "Spare the boy!" she whispered."You can't save him now," replied Tull stridently.Her head was bowing to the inevitable. She was grasping the truth,when suddenlythere came, in inward constriction, a hardening of gentleforces within her breast. Like a steel bar it was stiffening all thathad been soft and weak in her. She felt a birth in her of something newand unintelligible. Oncemore her strained gaze sought the sage-slopes.Jane Withersteen loved that wild and purple wilderness. In timesof sorrow it had been her strength, in happiness its beauty was hercontinual delight. In her extremity shefound herself murmuring, "Whencecometh my help!" It was a prayer, as if forth from those lonely purplereaches and walls of red and clefts of blue might ride a fearless man,neither creed-bound nor creed-mad, whowould hold up a restraining handin the faces of her ruthless people.The restless movements of Tull's men suddenly quieted down. Thenfollowed a low whisper, a rustle, a sharp exclamation."Look!" said one, pointing tothe west."A rider!"Jane Withersteen wheeled and saw a horseman, silhouetted against thewestern sky, coming riding out of the sage. He had ridden down from theleft, in the golden glare of the sun, and had beenunobserved till closeat hand. An answer to her prayer!"Do you know him? Does any one know him?" questioned Tull, hurriedly.His men looked and looked, and one by one shook their heads."He's come from far," saidone."Thet's a fine hoss," said another."A strange rider.""Huh! he wears black leather," added a fourth.With a wave of his hand, enjoining silence, Tull stepped forward in sucha way that he concealed Venters.The riderreined in his mount, and with a lithe forward-slippingaction appeared to reach the ground in one long step. It was a peculiarmovement in its quickness and inasmuch that while performing it therider did not swerve inthe slightest from a square front to the groupbefore him."Look!" hoarsely whispered one of Tull's companions. "He packs twoblack-butted guns--low down--they're hard to see--black akin them blackchaps.""Agun-man!" whispered another. "Fellers, careful now about movin' yourhands."The stranger's slow approach might have been a mere leisurely manner ofgait or the cramped short steps of a rider unused to walking; yet,aswell, it could have been the guarded advance of one who took no chanceswith men."Hello, stranger!" called Tull. No welcome was in this greeting only agruff curiosity.The rider responded with a curt nod. The widebrim of a black sombrerocast a dark shade over his face. For a moment he closely regarded Tulland his comrades, and then, halting in his slow walk, he seemed torelax."Evenin', ma'am," he said to Jane, and removedhis sombrero with quaintgrace.Jane, greeting him, looked up into a face that she trusted instinctivelyand which riveted her attention. It had all the characteristics ofthe range rider's--the leanness, the red burn of thesun, and the setchangelessness that came from years of silence and solitude. But it wasnot these which held her, rather the intensity of his gaze, a strainedweariness, a piercing wistfulness of keen, gray sight, as if themanwas forever looking for that which he never found. Jane's subtle woman'sintuition, even in that brief instant, felt a sadness, a hungering, asecret."Jane Withersteen, ma'am?" he inquired."Yes," she replied."Thewater here is yours?""Yes.""May I water my horse?""Certainly. There's the trough.""But mebbe if you knew who I was--" He hesitated, with his glance onthe listening men. "Mebbe you wouldn't let me waterhim--though I ain'taskin' none for myself.""Stranger, it doesn't matter who you are. Water your horse. And if youare thirsty and hungry come into my house.""Thanks, ma'am. I can't accept for myself--but for my tiredhorse--"Trampling of hoofs interrupted the rider. More restless movements onthe part of Tull's men broke up the little circle, exposing the prisonerVenters."Mebbe I've kind of hindered somethin'--for a few moments,perhaps?"inquired the rider."Yes," replied Jane Withersteen, with a throb in her voice.She felt the drawing power of his eyes; and then she saw him look at thebound Venters, and at the men who held him, and theirleader."In this here country all the rustlers an' thieves an' cut-throatsan' gun-throwers an' all-round no-good men jest happen to be Gentiles.Ma'am, which of the no-good class does that young feller belong to?""Hebelongs to none of them. He's an honest boy.""You KNOW that, ma'am?""Yes--yes.""Then what has he done to get tied up that way?"His clear and distinct question, meant for Tull as well as for JaneWithersteen, stilledthe restlessness and brought a momentary silence."Ask him," replied Jane, her voice rising high.The rider stepped away from her, moving out with the same slow, measuredstride in which he had approached, and thefact that his action placedher wholly to one side, and him no nearer to Tull and his men, had apenetrating significance."Young feller, speak up," he said to Venters."Here stranger, this's none of your mix," began Tull."Don't try anyinterference. You've been asked to drink and eat. That's more than you'dhave got in any other village of the Utah border. Water your horse andbe on your way.""Easy--easy--I ain't interferin' yet," repliedthe rider. The tone ofhis voice had undergone a change. A different man had spoken. Where, inaddressing Jane, he had been mild and gentle, now, with his first speechto Tull, he was dry, cool, biting. "I've lest stumbledonto a queerdeal. Seven Mormons all packin' guns, an' a Gentile tied with a rope,an' a woman who swears by his honesty! Queer, ain't that?""Queer or not, it's none of your business," retorted Tull."Where I was raised awoman's word was law. I ain't quite outgrowed thatyet."Tull fumed between amaze and anger."Meddler, we have a law here something different from woman'swhim--Mormon law!... Take care you don't transgressit.""To hell with your Mormon law!"The deliberate speech marked the rider's further change, this time fromkindly interest to an awakening menace. It produced a transformation inTull and his companions. The leadergasped and staggered backward ata blasphemous affront to an institution he held most sacred. The manJerry, holding the horses, dropped the bridles and froze in his tracks.Like posts the other men stoodwatchful-eyed, arms hanging rigid, allwaiting."Speak up now, young man. What have you done to be roped that way?""It's a damned outrage!" burst out Venters. "I've done no wrong. I'veoffended this Mormon Elder bybeing a friend to that woman.""Ma'am, is it true--what he says?" asked the rider of Jane, but hisquiveringly alert eyes never left the little knot of quiet men."True? Yes, perfectly true," she answered."Well, young man, itseems to me that bein' a friend to such a womanwould be what you wouldn't want to help an' couldn't help.... What's tobe done to you for it?""They intend to whip me. You know what that means--in Utah!""I reckon,"replied the rider, slowly.With his gray glance cold on the Mormons, with the restive bit-champingof the horses, with Jane failing to repress her mounting agitations,with Venters standing pale and still, the tension of themomenttightened. Tull broke the spell with a laugh, a laugh without mirth, alaugh that was only a sound betraying fear."Come on, men!" he called.Jane Withersteen turned again to the rider."Stranger, can you donothing to save Venters?""Ma'am, you ask me to save him--from your own people?""Ask you? I beg of you!""But you don't dream who you're askin'.""Oh, sir, I pray you--save him!""These are Mormons, an' I...""At--atany cost--save him. For I--I care for him!"Tull snarled. "You love-sick fool! Tell your secrets. There'll be a wayto teach you what you've never learned.... Come men out of here!""Mormon, the young man stays," said therider.Like a shot his voice halted Tull."What!""Who'll keep him? He's my prisoner!" cried Tull, hotly. "Stranger, againI tell you--don't mix here. You've meddled enough. Go your way now or--""Listen!... Hestays."Absolute certainty, beyond any shadow of doubt, breathed in the rider'slow voice."Who are you? We are seven here."The rider dropped his sombrero and made a rapid movement, singular inthat it left himsomewhat crouched, arms bent and stiff, with the bigblack gun-sheaths swung round to the fore."LASSITER!"It was Venters's wondering, thrilling cry that bridged the fatefulconnection between the rider's singularposition and the dreaded name.Tull put out a groping hand. The life of his eyes dulled to the gloomwith which men of his fear saw the approach of death. But death, whileit hovered over him, did not descend, for therider waited for thetwitching fingers, the downward flash of hand that did not come. Tull,gathering himself together, turned to the horses, attended by his palecomrades.CHAPTER II. COTTONWOODSVenters appearedtoo deeply moved to speak the gratitude his faceexpressed. And Jane turned upon the rescuer and gripped his hands.Her smiles and tears seemingly dazed him. Presently as something likecalmness returned, she wentto Lassiter's weary horse."I will water him myself," she said, and she led the horse to a troughunder a huge old cottonwood. With nimble fingers she loosened the bridleand removed the bit. The horse snorted and benthis head. The trough wasof solid stone, hollowed out, moss-covered and green and wet and cool,and the clear brown water that fed it spouted and splashed from a woodenpipe."He has brought you far to-day?""Yes,ma'am, a matter of over sixty miles, mebbe seventy.""A long ride--a ride that--Ah, he is blind!""Yes, ma'am," replied Lassiter."What blinded him?""Some men once roped an' tied him, an' then held white-iron close tohiseyes.""Oh! Men? You mean devils.... Were they your enemies--Mormons?""Yes, ma'am.""To take revenge on a horse! Lassiter, the men of my creed areunnaturally cruel. To my everlasting sorrow I confess it. Theyhave beendriven, hated, scourged till their hearts have hardened. But we womenhope and pray for the time when our men will soften.""Beggin' your pardon, ma'am--that time will never come.""Oh, it will!... Lassiter, doyou think Mormon women wicked? Has yourhand been against them, too?""No. I believe Mormon women are the best and noblest, the mostlong-sufferin', and the blindest, unhappiest women on earth.""Ah!" She gavehim a grave, thoughtful look. "Then you will break breadwith me?"Lassiter had no ready response, and he uneasily shifted his weightfrom one leg to another, and turned his sombrero round and round in hishands."Ma'am," he began, presently, "I reckon your kindness of heartmakes you overlook things. Perhaps I ain't well known hereabouts, butback up North there's Mormons who'd rest uneasy in their graves at theidea of mesittin' to table with you.""I dare say. But--will you do it, anyway?" she asked."Mebbe you have a brother or relative who might drop in an' be offended,an' I wouldn't want to--""I've not a relative in Utah that I know of.


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                                                                     IT HAPPENED ONENIGHT                                                              Written by Robert previous hit Riskin                                                                                based on a story by Samuel HopkinsAdams                                                                                The HARBOR at Miami Beach fades in,                          providing quick views of yachts, aquaplanes,                          andluxurious ship-craft lying at anchor                          in the calm, tranquil waters of tropical                          Florida. This dissolves to the NAME                          PLATE on the side of a yacht,reading                          "ELSPETH II," and this in turn to a                          YACHT CORRIDOR where a steward is standing                          in front of a cabin door, near a small                          collapsible tableupon which there is                          a tray of steaming food. He lifts lids                          and examines the contents. A heavy-set                          sailor stands guard near the cabin door.[1]                                                                                STEWARD                                                              Fine! Fine! She ought to like this.                                                                                (to the guard)                                                              Open thedoor.                                                              GUARD                                                              (without moving)                                                              Who's gonna takeit in to her? You?                                                                                STEWARD                                                              Oh,no.                                                              (turning)                                                              Mullison! Come on!                                                              The view widens to includeMullison,                          a waiter. His eye is decorated with                          a"shiner."                                                               MULLISON                                                              Not me, sir. She threw a ketchup bottle                          at me thismorning.                                                               STEWARD                                                              Well, orders are orders! Somebody's                          gotta take itin.                                                               (he turns to someone else)                                                              Fredericks!                                                              The view movesto another waiter, who                          has a patch of bandage on his face.                                                                                FREDERICKS                                                              Before I bring her another meal, I'll                          be put offthe ship first.                                                               STEWARD'S VOICE                                                              Henri!                                                              The viewmoves over to a Frenchman.                                                                                HENRI                                                              (vehemently)                                                              No,Monsieur. When I leave the Ritz                          you do not say I have to wait on crazy                          womans.                                                               The view moves back to include theSteward                          and the others grouped around him.                                                                                ANOTHER WAITER (ACOCKNEY)                                                              My wife was an angel compared to this                          one, sir. And I walked out on her .                                                                                ? 208?                                                              GUARD                                                              (impatiently)                                                              Come on! Make upyour mind!                                                              A petty officer approaches. He is blustering                          and officious, but the type that is                          feeble and ineffective. His nameis                          Lacey.                                                               LACEY                                                              (talkingquicklystaccato)                                                              What's up? What's up?                                                              There is a fairly close picture of the                          GROUP featuringLacey and the Steward.                                                                                STEWARD                                                              These pigs! They're afraid to takeher                          food in.                                                               LACEY                                                              That's ridiculous! Afraid of amere                          girl!                                                               (he wheels on the steward)                                                              Why didn't you do ityourself?                                                              STEWARD                                                              (more afraid than the othersstammering)                                                                                WhyIwell, I never thought about                                                                                LACEY                                                              (shoving himaside)                                                              I never heard of such a thing! Afraid                          of a mere girl.                                                               (moving to thetray)                                                              I'll take it in myself.                                                              They all stand around and watch him,                          much relieved. He picks up thetray                          and starts toward the door of the cabin.                                                                                LACEY                                                              (as hewalksmuttering)                                                              Can't get a thing done unless you do                          it yourself.                                                               (as he approaches thedoor)                                                              Open the door.                                                              We see him at the CABIN DOOR as the                          guard quickly and gingerly unlocksit.                                                                                LACEY                                                              Afraid of a mere girl! Ridiculous.                                                                                Lacey stalks in bravely, the tray held                          majestically in front of him, while                          the steward and waiters form acircle                          around the door, waiting expectantly.                          There is a short pause, following which                          Lacey comes hurling out backwards and                          lands on his back, thetray of food                          scattering all over him. The steward                          quickly bangs the door shut and turns                          the key as the waiters stare silently.                                                                                The scene dissolves to the MAIN DECK                          of the yacht, first affording a close                          view of a pair of well-shodmasculine                          feet, as they pace agitatedly back and                          forth. Then as the scene draws back,                          the possessor of the pacing feet is                          discovered to be AlexanderAndrews,                          immaculately groomed in yachting clothes.                          In front of him stands a uniformed Captain,                          but Andrews, brows wrinkled, deep in                          thought,continues his pacing.                                                               ? 209?                                                              ANDREWS                                                              (murmuring to himself)                                                              On ahunger strike, huh?                                                              (a grunt)                                                              When'd she eatlast?                                                              CAPTAIN                                                              She hasn't had a thingyesterdayor                          today.                                                               ANDREWS                                                              Been sending her meals in regularly?                                                                                CAPTAIN                                                              Yessir. She refuses themall.                                                              ANDREWS                                                              (snappily)                                                              Why didn't you jam itdown her throat?                                                                                CAPTAIN                                                              It's not quite that


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                                                                                INTERSTELLAR                                                                                Writtenby                                                           Jonathan Nolan                                                                                STORY BY                                              Jonathan Nolan, Kip Thorne &Lynda Obst                                                                                MARCH 122008          SPACE.                                   But not the dark lonely corner of it we're used to. This is          a glittering inferno -- the center of a distant galaxy.                                   Suddenly,something TEARS past at incredible speed: a NEUTRON          STAR. It SMASHES headlong through everything it encounters...          planets, stars. Can anything stop this juggernaut?                                   Yes.Something looms at the heart of the galaxy, hidden          inside the blinding starlight, a dark flaw in the fabric of          existence itself: a BLACK HOLE.                                   The neutron star is pulled into the blackhole's swirl,          spiraling closer and closer to destruction. Finally, it          contacts the hole's edge and EXPLODES.                                   The EXPLOSION is so powerful that it sends shock waves into          thefabric of space-time itself. We ride one of these waves,          racing back out from the black hole.                                   Suddenly, a portion of the wave disappears down a crystal-          like hole, emerging in a muchdarker region of the universe --          a backwater that, as the wave races past a giant red planet          with a distinctive eye, we recognize as our own.                                   The wave, now just an infinitesimalripple, finally reaches          our blue planet. It drops into our atmosphere over North          America, toward the high desert east of the Cascades, and          through the roof of a nondescriptwarehouse.                                   The wave tickles the atoms in the steel shell of a vacuum          chamber, then dances a tiny jig with a laser beam reflected          in a heavy piece ofglass.                                   The wave shoots back out of the building and disappears in          the fractal branches of a tumbleweed resting against a          concrete tube that stretches for miles in thedesert.                                   An SUV speeds past the tumbleweed and we follow it till it          parks at another plain-looking building at the opposite end          of the tube. A MAN climbs out of theSUV.                                   INT. CONTROL ROOM, WAREHOUSE -- DAY                                   The man lets himself into a large room that looks like Mission          Control. He pours himself a cup of coffee. Itis the weekend          and the place is empty. No one has been there to see the          displays flashing a distinctive shape -- a pulse followed by          a series of echoes.                                   The man looks up at thescreen, then DROPS his cup of coffee.                                                   CUT TO:           2.                                    INT. LIGO OFFICES, CALTECH, PASADENA --DAY                                   The Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory          headquarters at Caltech is a frenzy of activity. POSTDOCS          and RESEARCHERS huddle around monitors andprintouts, arguing.                                   ANSEN, 60s, the director of LIGO, walks through the frenzy.          A postdoc hands him a printout: a pulse followed by echoes.                                   INT. LIGODIRECTOR'S OFFICE, CALTECH -- DAY                                   Ansen steps into the relative calm of a large, sunlit office,          which overlooks a grassy stretch of Caltech's campus.                                   HisASSISTANT, 30s, is on the phone, on hold. He looks up          at Ansen as he enters.                                                   ASSISTANT           I'm on hold with the INS.                          (COVERSMICROPHONE)           Don't you think we should double           check the triangulation before we                          CALL ANYBODY-                                                   ANSEN           We havedouble checked it.                                   Someone finally picks up the line.                                                   ASSISTANT           Yes. I'm trying to reach-           (pause, listens)           No, I don't think youunderstand how           serious this is.                          (PAUSE)           Because if you did, we'd be having           this conversation in person.                                   He listens for a moment, then hangs upthe phone, confused.                                                   ANSEN           What did they say?                                                   ASSISTANT           They said we should look outthe           window.                                   Ansen steps to the window and looks out:                                   In the courtyard below, coeds are scrambling to get out of          the way as a military helicopter sets downin the middle of          the quad and dozens of ARMED FEDERAL AGENTS converge on his          building.           3.                                   INT. MAIN CONFERENCE ROOM, LIGO, CALTECH --DAY                                   Ansen sits, alone, on one side of a conference table.                                   The other side is filled with GOVERNMENT MEN -- NSA mostly,          some DIA. The door opens and hisassistant steps in. Armed          guards pat him down, then shove him into a seat.                                                   ANSEN           Is that really necessary?                                   One of the NSA agentsleans forward.                                                   NSA AGENT           You've been complaining for years           that the government doesn't take           your project seriously enough,Doctor.                          (SMILES)           You can't have it both ways.                                   Ansen motions to his assistant, who turns on a projector.          On-screen, we see the familiar pulse andechoes.                                                   ANSEN           Yesterday morning, our facility in           Hanford identified this signal: a           neutron star colliding with a           supermassive black hole. Wewent           through the last year's data and           triangulated the source.                                   The pulse is translated into a crude animatic of a neutron          star circling into the blackhole.                                                   NSA AGENT           We know that, Doctor. What we don't           know is why, according to your           numbers, this event took place right           here in our own solarsystem.                                   Suddenly, the image overlays the sun, the earth, and the          rest of our solar system around the black hole.                                                   ANSEN           It didn't.Because if it had we'd           all be dead by now.                                   On-screen, Jupiter, then the Earth and the inner planets are          consumed by the black hole. Only the sun survives, pulled          into orbitaround its new master.                                                   ANSEN (CONT'D)           Which leaves only one explanation:           The signal traveled through a                          (MORE)           4.                                                   ANSEN (CONT'D)           wormhole. A gateway to a distant           corner of the universe. The black           hole is on the far side.                                   On-screen,the black hole system is removed to a distant          corner, connected to ours by a tunnel through space-time. A          gravity wave from the collision travels through thetunnel.                                                   NSA AGENT           I've read your book, Doctor. You           said that wormholes are impossible.                                                   ANSEN           There isnothing quite as satisfying           as being proved utterly wrong.                          (SMILES)           I said that a wormhole couldn't exist           naturally. Not for more than a few           billionths of a second.It would           have to be... stabilized.                                                   NSA AGENT           Stabilized by what?                                   Ansen pauses, unsure. His assistant steps in to hisdefense.                                                   ASSISTANT           We don't have any way to answer that           question.                                                   NSA AGENT                          (IGNORESHIM)           You're not under peer review here,           Doctor. I don't care about your           reputation. I need to know how that           thing got there. Now.                                   Ansen finally speaksup.                                                   ANSEN           If you're worried about an invasion,           I would start drafting the articles           of surrender.                          (SMILES)           Whoeverthey are, if they can build           a wormhole, they could erase us in           the blink of an eye. Luckily, that           also means we have nothing they could           be interestedin.                                                   NSA AGENT           Then why is it there?           5.                                                   ANSEN           I don't know. Maybe it's an           invitation. Achance to commune           with an advanced species.                                   The assistant, embarrassed, looks down. The agent notices.                                                   NSA AGENT           You don'tagree?                                                   ASSISTANT                          (DELICATE)           No. I don't think we can assume an           alien intelligence built thewormhole.                          (CHANGES TACK)           But the opportunity it represents is           incredible. We could explore parts           of the universe we never dreamt of           reaching in ourlifetimes.                                   The agent exchanges a look with one of his colleagues, who          steps out of the room.                                                   ANSEN           We need to get back to work. Ihave           a conference call with our European           partners in fifteen minutes.                                                   NSA AGENT           We severed the connections to your           European partners thismorning.                                                   ANSEN                          (INDIGNANT)           You can't do that. The Europeans           put up some of thefunding...                                                   GOVERNMENT MAN           We'll send them a check.                          (STANDS)           Your project is now classified under           the State SecretsAct.                                   He steps out the door, leaving the men alone. The assistant,          outraged, turns back to his boss.                                                   ASSISTANT           They can't keep this a


ï»¿The Project Gutenberg eBook, Cousin Henry, by Anthony TrollopeThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and withalmost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away orre-use it underthe terms of the Project Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.orgTitle: Cousin HenryAuthor: Anthony TrollopeRelease Date: January 1, 2008  [eBook #24103]Language:English***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COUSIN HENRY***E-text prepared by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.COUSIN HENRYbyANTHONY TROLLOPEFirst published in serial form in the _Manchester WeeklyTimes_ andthe _North British Weekly Mail_ in the spring of 1879 and in bookform in October, 1879CONTENTS       I. Uncle Indefer      II. Isabel Brodrick     III. Cousin Henry      IV. The Squire's Death       V. Preparingfor the Funeral      VI. Mr Apjohn's Explanation     VII. Looking for the Will    VIII. The Reading of the Will      IX. Alone at Llanfeare       X. Cousin Henry Dreams a Dream      XI. Isabel at Hereford     XII. MrOwen    XIII. The _Carmarthen Herald_     XIV. An Action for Libel      XV. Cousin Henry Makes Another Attempt     XVI. Again at Hereford    XVII. Mr Cheekey   XVIII. Cousin Henry Goes to Carmarthen     XIX. MrApjohn Sends for Assistance      XX. Doubts     XXI. Mr Apjohn's Success    XXII. How Cousin Henry Was Let Off Easily   XXIII. Isabel's Petition    XXIV. ConclusionCHAPTER IUncle Indefer"I have a conscience, my dear,on this matter," said an old gentlemanto a young lady, as the two were sitting in the breakfast parlour ofa country house which looked down from the cliffs over the sea on thecoast of Carmarthenshire."And so have I,Uncle Indefer; and as my conscience is backed by myinclination, whereas yours is not--""You think that I shall give way?""I did not mean that.""What then?""If I could only make you understand how very strong ismyinclination, or disinclination--how impossible to be conquered,then--""What next?""Then you would know that I could never give way, as you call it, andyou would go to work with your own conscience to see whetherit beimperative with you or not. You may be sure of this,--I shall neversay a word to you in opposition to your conscience. If there be aword to be spoken it must come from yourself."There was a long pause in theconversation, a silence for an hour,during which the girl went in and out of the room and settled herselfdown at her work. Then the old man went back abruptly to the subjectthey had discussed. "I shall obey myconscience.""You ought to do so, Uncle Indefer. What should a man obey but hisconscience?""Though it will break my heart.""No; no, no!""And will ruin you.""That is a flea's bite. I can brave my ruin easily, but notyourbroken heart.""Why should there be either, Isabel?""Nay, sir; have you not said but now, because of our consciences?Not to save your heart from breaking,--though I think your heartis dearer to me than anythingelse in the world,--could I marrymy cousin Henry. We must die together, both of us, you and I, orlive broken-hearted, or what not, sooner than that. Would I not doanything possible at your bidding?""I used to thinkso.""But it is impossible for a young woman with a respect for herselfsuch as I have to submit herself to a man that she loathes. Do asyour conscience bids you with the old house. Shall I be less tenderto you while youlive because I shall have to leave the place whenyou are dead? Shall I accuse you of injustice or unkindness inmy heart? Never! All that is only an outside circumstance to me,comparatively of little moment. But to bethe wife of a man Idespise!" Then she got up and left the room.A month passed by before the old man returned to the subject, whichhe did seated in the same room, at the same hour of the day,--atabout four o'clock,when the dinner things had been removed."Isabel," he said, "I cannot help myself.""As to what, Uncle Indefer?" She knew very well what was the matterin which, as he said, he could not help himself. Had therebeenanything in which his age had wanted assistance from her youth therewould have been no hesitation between them; no daughter was ever moretender; no father was ever more trusting. But on this subject itwasnecessary that he should speak more plainly before she could reply tohim."As to your cousin and the property.""Then in God's name do not trouble yourself further in looking forhelp where there is none to be had.You mean that the estate ought togo to a man and not to a woman?""It ought to go to a Jones.""I am not a Jones, nor likely to become a Jones.""You are as near to me as he is,--and so much dearer!""But not on thataccount a Jones. My name is Isabel Brodrick. A womannot born to be a Jones may have the luck to become one by marriage,but that will never be the case with me.""You should not laugh at that which is to me aduty.""Dear, dear uncle!" she said, caressing him, "if I seemed tolaugh"--and she certainly had laughed when she spoke of the luck ofbecoming a Jones--"it is only that you may feel how little importanceI attach to it allon my own account.""But it is important,--terribly important!""Very well. Then go to work with two things in your mind fixed asfate. One is that you must leave Llanfeare to your nephew HenryJones, and the other that Iwill not marry your nephew Henry Jones.When it is all settled it will be just as though the old place wereentailed, as it used to be.""I wish it were.""So do I, if it would save you trouble.""But it isn't the same;--it can't bethe same. In getting back theland your grandfather sold I have spent the money I had saved foryou.""It shall be all the same to me, and I will take pleasure in thinkingthat the old family place shall remain as you wouldhave it. I can beproud of the family though I can never bear the name.""You do not care a straw for the family.""You should not say that, Uncle Indefer. It is not true. I careenough for the family to sympathise with youaltogether in what youare doing, but not enough for the property to sacrifice myself inorder that I might have a share in it.""I do not know why you should think so much evil of Henry.""Do you know any reason why Ishould think well enough of him tobecome his wife? I do not. In marrying a man a woman should be ableto love every little trick belonging to him. The parings of his nailsshould be a care to her. It should be pleasant toher to serve him inthings most menial. Would it be so to me, do you think, with HenryJones?""You are always full of poetry and books.""I should be full of something very bad if I were to allow myself tostand at the altarwith him. Drop it, Uncle Indefer. Get it out ofyour mind as a thing quite impossible. It is the one thing I can'tand won't do, even for you. It is the one thing that you ought not toask me to do. Do as you like with theproperty,--as you think right.""It is not as I like.""As your conscience bids you, then; and I with myself, which is theonly little thing that I have in the world, will do as I like, or asmy conscience bids me."These lastwords she spoke almost roughly, and as she said them sheleft him, walking out of the room with an air of offended pride.But in this there was a purpose. If she were hard to him, hard andobstinate in her determination,then would he be enabled to be soalso to her in his determination, with less of pain to himself. Shefelt it to be her duty to teach him that he was justified in doingwhat he liked with his property, because she intended todo whatshe liked with herself. Not only would she not say a word towardsdissuading him from this change in his old intentions, but she wouldmake the change as little painful to him as possible by teaching himto thinkthat it was justified by her own manner to him.For there was a change, not only in his mind, but in his declaredintentions. Llanfeare had belonged to Indefer Joneses for manygenerations. When the late Squire had died,now twenty years ago,there had been remaining out of ten children only one, the eldest,to whom the property now belonged. Four or five coming in successionafter him had died without issue. Then there had been aHenry Jones,who had gone away and married, had become the father of the HenryJones above mentioned, and had then also departed. The youngest, adaughter, had married an attorney named Brodrick, and she alsohaddied, having no other child but Isabel. Mr Brodrick had marriedagain, and was now the father of a large family, living at Hereford,where he carried on his business. He was not very "well-to-do" in theworld. The newMrs Brodrick had preferred her own babies to Isabel,and Isabel when she was fifteen years of age had gone to her bacheloruncle at Llanfeare. There she had lived for the last ten years,making occasional visits to herfather at Hereford.Mr Indefer Jones, who was now between seventy and eighty years old,was a gentleman who through his whole life had been disturbed byreflections, fears, and hopes as to the family property onwhich hehad been born, on which he had always lived, in possession of whichhe would certainly die, and as to the future disposition of whichit was his lot in life to be altogether responsible. It had beenentailed upon himbefore his birth in his grandfather's time, whenhis father was about to be married. But the entail had not beencarried on. There had come no time in which this Indefer Jones hadbeen about to be married, and theformer old man having been given toextravagance, and been generally in want of money, had felt it morecomfortable to be without an entail. His son had occasionally beeninduced to join with him in raising money.Thus not only since he hadhimself owned the estate, but before his father's death, there hadbeen forced upon him reflections as to the destination of Llanfeare.At fifty he had found himself unmarried, and unlikely tomarry.His brother Henry was then alive; but Henry had disgraced thefamily,--had run away with a married woman whom he had married aftera divorce, had taken to race courses and billiard-rooms, and hadbeenaltogether odious to his brother Indefer. Nevertheless the boy whichhad come from this marriage, a younger Henry, had been educated athis expense, and had occasionally been received at Llanfeare. Hehad beenpopular with no one there, having been found to be a slyboy, given to lying, and, as even the servants said about the place,unlike a Jones of Llanfeare. Then had come the time in which Isabelhad been brought toLlanfeare. Henry had been sent away from Oxfordfor some offence not altogether trivial, and the Squire had declaredto himself and others that Llanfeare should never fall into hishands.Isabel had so endeared herself tohim that before she had beentwo years in the house she was the young mistress of the place.Everything that she did was right in his eyes. She might haveanything that she would ask, only that she would ask fornothing. Atthis time the cousin had been taken into an office in London, and hadbecome,--so it was said of him,--a steady young man of business. Butstill, when allowed to show himself at Llanfeare, he wasunpalatableto them all--unless it might be to the old Squire. It was certainlythe case that in his office in London he made himself useful, and itseemed that he had abandoned that practice of running into debt andhavingthe bills sent down to Llanfeare which he had adopted early inhis career.During all this time the old Squire was terribly troubled aboutthe property. His will was always close at his hand. Till Isabelwas twenty-one this willhad always been in Henry's favour,--witha clause, however, that a certain sum of money which the Squirepossessed should go to her. Then in his disgust towards his nephew hechanged his purpose, and made anotherwill in Isabel's favour. Thisremained in existence as his last resolution for three years; butthey had been three years of misery to him. He had endured but badlythe idea that the place should pass away out of what heregarded asthe proper male line. To his thinking it was simply an accident thatthe power of disposing of the property should be in his hands. Itwas a religion to him that a landed estate in Britain should go fromfather toeldest son, and in default of a son to the first male heir.Britain would not be ruined because Llanfeare should be allowed to goout of the proper order. But Britain would be ruined if Britons didnot do their duty in thatsphere of life to which it had pleased Godto call them; and in this case his duty was to maintain the old orderof things.And during this time an additional trouble added itself to thoseexisting. Having made up his mind toact in opposition to his ownprinciples, and to indulge his own heart; having declared both to hisnephew and to his niece that Isabel should be his heir, there cameto him, as a consolation in his misery, the power ofrepurchasinga certain fragment of the property which his father, with hisassistance, had sold. The loss of these acres had been always a sorewound to him, not because of his lessened income, but from a feelingthat noowner of an estate should allow it to be diminished duringhis holding of it. He never saw those separated fields estranged fromLlanfeare, but he grieved in his heart. That he might get them backagain he had savedmoney since Llanfeare had first become his own.Then had come upon him the necessity of providing for Isabel. Butwhen with many groans he had decided that Isabel should be the heir,the money could be allowed togo for its intended purpose. It hadso gone, and then his conscience had become too strong for him, andanother will was made.It will be seen how he had endeavoured to reconcile things. Whenit was found that HenryJones was working like a steady man at theLondon office to which he was attached, that he had sown his wildoats, then Uncle Indefer began to ask himself why all his dearestwishes should not be carried out together bya marriage between thecousins. "I don't care a bit for his wild oats," Isabel had said,almost playfully, when the idea had first been mooted to her. "Hisoats are too tame for me rather than too wild. Why can't he lookanyone in the face?" Then her uncle had been angry with her, thinkingthat she was allowing a foolish idea to interfere with the happinessof them all.But his anger with her was never enduring; and, indeed, beforethetime at which our story commenced he had begun to acknowledge tohimself that he might rather be afraid of her anger than she of his.There was a courage about her which nothing could dash. She had grownupunder his eyes strong, brave, sometimes almost bold, with a dashof humour, but always quite determined in her own ideas of wrongor right. He had in truth been all but afraid of her when he foundhimself compelled totell her of the decision to which his consciencecompelled him. But the will was made,--the third, perhaps the fourthor fifth, which had seemed to him to be necessary since his mind hadbeen exercised in this matter. Hemade this will, which he assuredhimself should be the last, leaving Llanfeare to his nephew oncondition that he should prefix the name of Indefer to that of Jones,and adding certain stipulations as to further entail. Theneverythingof which he might die possessed, except Llanfeare itself and thefurniture in the house, he left to his niece Isabel."We must get rid of the horses," he said to her about a fortnightafter the conversation lastrecorded."Why that?""My will has been made, and there will be so little now for you, thatwe must save what we can before I die.""Oh, bother me!" said Isabel, laughing."Do you suppose it is not dreadful to me to haveto reflect howlittle I can do for you? I may, perhaps, live for two years, and wemay save six or seven hundred a year. I have put a charge on theestate for four thousand pounds. The property is only a small thing,afterall;--not above fifteen hundred a year.""I will not hear of the horses being sold, and there is an end of it.You have been taken out about the place every day for the last twentyyears, and it would crush me if I were tosee a change. You have donethe best you can, and now leave it all in God's hands. Pray,--praylet there be no more talking about it. If you only knew how welcomehe is to it!"CHAPTER IIIsabel BrodrickWhen Mr IndeferJones spoke of living for two years, he spoke morehopefully of himself than the doctor was wont to speak to Isabel. Thedoctor from Carmarthen visited Llanfeare twice a week, and havingbecome intimate andconfidential with Isabel, had told her that thecandle had nearly burnt itself down to the socket. There was nospecial disease, but he was a worn-out old man. It was well that heshould allow himself to be driven out aboutthe place every day. Itwas well that he should be encouraged to get up after breakfast, andto eat his dinner in the middle of the day after his old fashion.It was well to do everything around him as though he were notaconfirmed invalid. But the doctor thought that he would not lastlong. The candle, as the doctor said, had nearly burnt itself out inthe socket.And yet there was no apparent decay in the old man's intellect. Hehad neverbeen much given to literary pursuits, but that which he hadalways done he did still. A daily copy of whatever might be the mostthoroughly Conservative paper of the day he always read carefullyfrom the beginning tothe end; and a weekly copy of the _Guardian_nearly filled up the hours which were devoted to study. On Sundayhe read two sermons through, having been forbidden by the doctor totake his place in the church becauseof the draughts, and thinking,apparently, that it would be mean and wrong to make that an excusefor shirking an onerous duty. An hour a day was devoted by himreligiously to the Bible. The rest of his time wasoccupied by thecare of his property. Nothing gratified him so much as the comingin of one of his tenants, all of whom were so intimately known tohim that, old as he was, he never forgot the names even oftheirchildren. The idea of raising a rent was abominable to him. Aroundthe house there were about two hundred acres which he was supposed tofarm. On these some half-dozen worn-out old labourers weremaintainedin such a manner that no return from the land was ever forthcoming.On this subject he would endure remonstrance from no one,--not evenfrom Isabel.Such as he has been here described, he would havebeen a happyold man during these last half-dozen years, had not his mind beenexercised day by day, and hour by hour, by these cares as to theproperty which were ever present to him. A more loving heart thanhiscould hardly be found in a human bosom, and all its power of love hadbeen bestowed on Isabel. Nor could any man be subject to a strongerfeeling of duty than that which pervaded him; and this feeling ofdutyinduced him to declare to himself that in reference to hisproperty he was bound to do that which was demanded of him by theestablished custom of his order. In this way he had become an unhappyman, troubled byconflicting feelings, and was now, as he wasapproaching the hour of his final departure, tormented by the thoughtthat he would leave his niece without sufficient provision for herwants.But the thing was done. The newwill was executed and tied in on thetop of the bundle which contained the other wills which he had made.Then, naturally enough, there came back upon him the idea, hardlyamounting to a hope, that something mighteven yet occur to setmatters right by a marriage between the cousins. Isabel had spokento him so strongly on the subject that he did not dare to repeat hisrequest. And yet, he thought, there was no good reason whythey twoshould not become man and wife. Henry, as far as he could learn, hadgiven up his bad courses. The man was not evil to the eye, a somewhatcold-looking man rather than otherwise, tall withwell-formedfeatures, with light hair and blue-grey eyes, not subject to bespoken of as being unlike a gentleman, if not noticeable as beinglike one. That inability of his to look one in the face when he wasspeaking hadnot struck the Squire forcibly as it had done Isabel. Hewould not have been agreeable to the Squire had there been no bondbetween them,--would still have been the reverse, as he had beenformerly, but for thatconnexion. But, as things were, there was roomfor an attempt at love; and if for an attempt at love on his part,why not also on Isabel's? But he did not dare to bid Isabel even totry to love this cousin."I think I wouldlike to have him down again soon," he said to hisniece."By all means. The more the tenants know him the better it will be. Ican go to Hereford at any time.""Why should you run away from me?""Not from you, UncleIndefer, but from him.""And why from him?""Because I don't love him.""Must you always run away from the people you do not love?""Yes, when the people, or person, is a man, and when the man has beentold that heought specially to love me."When she said this she looked into her uncle's face, smiling indeed,but still asking a serious question. He dared to make no answer, butby his face he told the truth. He had declared his


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           byEd Solomon and John August  current revisions by        Zak Penn                             EARLYDRAFT                             August 11, 1999CHARLIE'S ANGELS - 8/18/99FADE IN:EXT. THE BIG BLUE SKY - DAYA VIRGIN AIR 747 bursts through the clouds and levelsoff.INT. VIRGIN AIR 747 - DAYWe move through the FIRST CLASS CABIN. It's the regularmix of first class people: OLD MONEY in Gucci enjoyingfreshly baked cookies, a MILLIONAIRE in jeans and a T-shirt,BUSINESS PEOPLE relaxing after a tough day, and......a very nervous MAN.Shifty-eyed. Alone in an aisle seat, the emergency row.We hold on him for a moment, but not for too long. Thenwe continue moving into--THE COACH SECTIONStopping at the lavatory, the "OCCUPIED" sign switches to"VACANT" and...JAMES EARL JONES(or actually, a James Earl Jones type, who for ease ofdescription, we'll simplyrefer to as James Earl Jones)steps out of the restroom, in full African regalia:multi-colored dashiki, mufti (it's a kind of hat), theworks. He heads up the aisle towards --THE FIRST CLASS CABINWhere he isstopped by a --                         FLIGHT ATTENDANT           I'm sorry, sir. This cabin is           restricted to first cl...Mr. Jones now removes a FIRST CLASS TICKET.                         JAMES EARLJONES           Is this what you're looking for?She looks at it -- a little confused as to why he's justhanding it to her now -- but then she nods. As he passes:                         FLIGHTATTENDANT           Oh, I'm sorry. Please. Is there           anything I can get you?                         JAMES EARL JONES           Scotch, blended. Straight.He continues into the first class cabin and toward--CHARLIE'S ANGELS - 8/18/99                              2.THE FIRST CLASS EMERGENCY ROOMWhere he slides in past the nervous, shifty-eyed man (hisname is PASQUAL) and sits by thewindow.After a moment, Pasqual quietly clears his throat andleans, slightly, towards Jones.                        PASQUAL                 (tentatively)          They say birds can't fly thishigh.                        JAMES EARL JONES          They say only angels can.Now Pasqual nods. Nervously begins to remove somethingfrom his pocket when they are interrupted by --                        FLIGHTATTENDANT          Shall I pour your scotch?                        JAMES EARL JONES          No -- I'll take the bottle. Thank you.She hands him the airplane-sized bottle -- he waves offthe glass. She shrugs,leaving...Pasqual to resume what he was doing. Slowly, he removesa roll of Certs. He looks to Jones -- "Well? What aboutyour end of the bargain?"From within his dashiki, Jones pulls out a black velvetpouch. He handsit to Pasqual, who opens it to finddiamonds. A helluva lot of diamonds. Pasqual smiles.He hands the roll of Certs to Jones. It's not breathcandy at all, but a tiny roll of explosives, with a tiny,high-tech triggeringmechanism.                        JAMES EARL JONES          Ah, c-5. The most dangerous          explosive material ever invented.          Hard to believe that this little          contraption could blow up tencity          blocks.                        PASQUAL          Be careful with it, huh?Both men smile.   Pasqual's very relieved that the deal isdone.Then suddenly, the lights blink out.Pasqual looks around, nervous. Butit's just the in-flight movie beginning. Clouds, and a woman holding atorch.                                             (CONTINUED)CHARLIE'S ANGELS -8/18/99                              3.CONTINUED:Columbia Pictures presents... David Spade and AdamSandler in "BOSOM BUDDIES: THE MOVIE."James Earl Jones shakes his head, rolls hiseyes.                           JAMES EARL JONES             Another movie from an old TV show?                           PASQUAL             Well, what're you gonna do?                               JAMES EARLJONES             Walk out.                           PASQUAL             That's very funny.But James Earl Jones is dead serious.                               JAMES EARL JONES             No.   It isn't.Jones grabsPascal in a headlock and turns toward theback of the plane, shouting:                            JAMES EARL JONES (CONT'D)             EVERYONE!   FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS!Now Jones does theunthinkable. Holding Pasqual tight,he yanks open the emergency door release.With a RUSH, the cabin decompresses.Panic erupts as air, paper and everything not belted inscreams out of the open door, including--EXT. THE BIG BLUE SKY - FALLING AWAY FROM THE 747 - DAY-- James Earl Jones, still holding Pasqual in a bear hug.They plummet, wind violently tearing at them. Pasqual'sfrantic SCREAMS doppler quitenicely.DROPPING WITH THEMThey continue to fall, gaining speed. Pasqual isterrified, but Jones doesn't seem worried. In fact,casually, he glances at his watch, and then looks --FAR BELOW THEM -ACROSS THE SKYAt the tiny black speck gradually grows larger in thedistance...CHARLIE'S ANGELS - 8/18/99                               4.CLOSER - ON THAT BLACK SPECKIt's a jethelicopter. Its door opens, and now a SKYDIVER leapsout, helmet down, arms back, streaking across thesky in aerodynamic perfection, heading directly towardsJONES AND PASQUALwho are still plummetingtoward the earth at terminalvelocity. Jones begins to let go of Pasqual, who SCREAMSand tries to clutch onto him, desperate.                        JAMES EARL JONES                 (over the rushingwind)          PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER. WE HAVE          COMPANY.                        PASQUAL          WHAT?Suddenly -- WHOMMPPPH!! -- the skydiver spread-eagles,stopping thewild dive directly behind Pasqual, andimmediately binds his arms and straps a parachute on him.All three are still free-falling.James Earl Jones nods at the Skydiver who, even under thehelmet and goggles, is clearly abeautiful woman.Meet ALEXANDRA "ALEX" MUNDAY, one of Charlie's Angels.She's a sultry bombshell -- a classic femme fatale --only she's playing for the good guys.She gives James Earl Jones a wink, then jerksPasqual'srip cord and -- WHOOMPH. Pasqual's chute deploys. Heflies upward, leaving --Alex and James Earl Jones, both still falling.    Below theocean screams up at them. Not much time left.James Earl Jones pulls hisbelt -- and his mufti fliesup. It's actually a tiny drogue chute, deploying hisentire dashiki. His outfit hides a parachute rig.Alex pulls her own rip cord and -- WHOOMPH -- her chuteunfurls, and now...Alex and James EarlJones gently float towards --EXT. THE BIG BLUE SEA - DAYA cigarette boat floats through the choppy water, agorgeous young woman expertly throttling up the growlingV-8.Say hello to NATALIETHOMPSON, Charlie's second angel.At a glance, she's the brainy-shy girl next door.                                                 (CONTINUED)CHARLIE'S ANGELS -8/18/99                                 5.CONTINUED:But put her behind the wheel of any vehicle, and she'sunstoppable.Natalie glances ahead, maneuvering the boat perfectly underAlex, who drops on deck.Alex gathers her chute, then whips offher helmet to give her cascading mane a wild shake.Here comes James Earl Jones. Natalie guns the boatunderneath...a perfect catch. Alex helps him with hisdashiki-chute, andthen all three look up...Here comes Pasqual. Natalie whips the boat around,catching him as he helplessly drops into the seats, stillbound, still scared out of his wits. He gapes wild-eyedat the two Angels, then whirls onJames Earl Jones.                           PASQUAL             You crazy bastard!                           JAMES EARL JONES             I think you mean crazy bitch.With that, James Earl Jones reaches up andpulls his faceoff. Latex rips free, and standing there (without hisdashiki, James Earl Jones has a great figure) is...... stunningly beautiful DYLAN SANDERS, angel numberthree. She's the wild one.Pasqual's jaw drops asDylan shakes her hair free, thenreaches in her mouth --                           DYLAN                    (still with James Earl Jones' voice)             Don't need this anymore.-- and extracts a voice-modifyingchip.                           DYLAN (CONT'D)                    (now in her real voice)             But I sure could use this.And she pulls from her pocket the airplane-size bottle ofJohnnie Walker Black. She twists it openand downs it.                           DYLAN (CONT'D)             Damn I hate to fly.EXT. BEACH DOCK - DAYNow, MEN IN "FBI" WINDBREAKERS haul Pasqual away, two ofthem carefully handling thecerts-explosive. A harmlessfellow pushes his way past them and onto the dock.It's JOHN BOSLEY, Charlie's lieutenant.                                                (CONTINUED)CHARLIE'S ANGELS -8/18/99                                 6.CONTINUED:He reaches the boat, which Natalie ties off while Alexand Dylan neatly fold their parachutes.                           BOSLEY             Well, Angels, theexperimental             explosives are back in the hands of             the government, and the free world             can breathe just a lit-tle bit             easier tonight, thanks to you three.Alex, Natalie and Dylan stroll fromthe dock onto the sand,each starting to unzip/unbutton/unsnap their action gear andhand it to Bosley as they continue walking.                           NATALIE             And thanks to you, too,Bos.                           ALEX             We couldn't have redirected the             flight path without your help.Bosley puffs, proud. He speaks over the ever-growingpile of chutes, body suits, goggles, thedashiki...                           BOSLEY             Nothing a little teamwork can't do.             At least, that's what Charlie's             always telling us, right ladies?                           DYLAN             Charliewill be joining us, won't he?                           BOSLEY             He sends his regrets. But he             wanted you to know that dinner is             on him, so feel free to celebrate.By now, the Angels havestripped off all of theirequipment, revealing eye-popping evening gowns.                           ALEX             If it's on Charlie, we will.The Angels share a laugh as they arrive in their sassyduds at a private beachclub, where a WAITER greets themwith a tray of champagne flutes.They each take a glass, turn to each other and raisethem. Another Angels Mystery... Case Closed.FREEZE FRAME.    And the TITLE SEQUENCEBEGINS...                           CHARLIE (V.O.)             Once upon a time...                                                   (CONTINUED)CHARLIE'S ANGELS -8/18/99                               7.CONTINUED:THREE FOURTH GRADE SCHOOL PHOTOS FILL THE FRAME, side byside by side. These are three very different girls.NATALIE, with a page-boy cut and wearinga Catholicschoolgirl's uniform, sports glasses and braces; a bitawkward and gangly, even shy.ALEX, formally dressed with perfect pig-tails, issophisticated and self-possessed; a class act, even at ten.DYLAN, wild blond