Sherlock Holmes - The Adventure of the Tolling Bell

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During Nigel Bruce's Dr. Watson and Tom Conway's Sherlock Holmes.

I want again it's time to keep that weekly appointment with our good friend and host, Dr.

Watson. Good evening, Dr. Watson. Good evening, Mr. Bettella's usually

off punch you into the minute. Dr. Chair, make yourself comfortable. Thank you.

That's it. I see that you have the old black tinned dispatch box out again, Dr. Watson.

I deduced that you were going over your notes on tonight's case.

Hello, Mr. Chair, my dear boy and among the records, I came across some notes of cases that are

almost forgotten. The shocking death of Crossby, the factor, the Adolton tragedy,

some data on the unusual contents of the ancient British pharaoh.

Those stories sound pretty intriguing, Dr. Watson.

I should tell them to you some other evening, Mr. Bettella.

Tonight, I'm going to recount an adventure took place in the heart of the beautiful English

countryside. I call it the adventure of the tolling bell.

Well, let's story begin in the small contemplative carn for Holmes,

a recent day brought to a successful conclusion, a fair of a battle and furnace,

wheeled chair murders. When we decided that a few days rested nearby,

I can't forfeit, we'd do us both good before returning to our

arduous life in Baker Street. We was staying at a small,

but comfortable inn. Early in the morning of the third day, I remember Holmes and I

were in our bedroom, waking those two essentials for that, which an English

country gentleman could not start his day. The early morning cup of tea and

a jug of hot water for shaving. As we sat there at the open window,

a nearby church bell was tolling a funeral knell.

There must be a funeral in the village, Holmes, and a astonishing deduction

of what's no need to make fun of him. I think so, I suppose.

Has it ever occurred here, Watson, that the history of bells is full of romantic interest?

Well, I can't say it before much about it. Almost every historical event has been

accompanied by the sound of bells. They summon soldiers to arms,

as well as Christians to church. They sound to be alarmed in fire,

two mountain invasions, and many of bloody chapter in history has been

wrung in and outfired sores. You seem to be a mind of information on the subject.

Yes, Watson, it's a fascinating subject. Come in, come in.

Good morning, my dear. Good morning, gentlemen.

I brought you tea to shave the water. Please make a sense to sell your breakfast

to be ready now for now. Spend it, Maryne. Oh, Maryne.

The church bell is tolling a funeral knell. Do you know who's being buried?

Said I do stuff. I wish it wasn't me. You don't remember my turn soon.

Good little thing, I want to matter with her. I have no idea.

Perhaps the father or mother just died. Oh, a young man. Yes, I bet that's it.

He's pretty good. She'd obviously been crying when she came in.

Perhaps that's her fiancée that they're bearing now.

Now, Watson, you have the sentimental imagination of the true story, tell us.

But we've come here for a holiday. You must give your imagination a rest too.

So drink your tea, remove your whiskers, and we'll go downstairs and investigate those kippers.

Your life gets a pulse, gentlemen.

Excellent. This isn't a good accident. I've eaten better.

Yes, indeed. By the way, Mrs. Mickle, we have a funeral bell tolling earlier on.

Do you know who was being buried? Now, I do. Two souls of being buried.

And the man of him was a murderer. A murderer?

Lord, is this peaceful village? What happened, Mrs. Mickle?

So, three golds, the corn merchant.

Thana is wise, a big gall of hunting around with a young fella from Bolton.

But her throat he did in the name himself, Morty.

Thank you, all right.

Lucky.

Do the peaceful countryside as well as peaceful as it's made out to be home.

Thanks that I've frequently had occasion to point out to you, Watson.

Has the morning post arrived, Mrs. Mickle?

Yeah, it comes all gilly up the path, it's now.

I'll see if he's gotten anything for you.

Murder? What do you make of it, Holmes?

What is there to make of it, Watson?

A jealous husband murders a faithfulist once and then commits suicide.

A tragic story, but a simple one.

Top of the morning to your gentlemen.

Good morning, Gilly. Any letters for me today?

Oh, Mr. Holmes, two letters.

One of them's got some newspaper clippings in it, I think.

And you've got a post call from a Mr. Less Squad.

He walked you back in London, bad, Mr. Holmes.

Hey, do I?

Pardon us, all gilly.

You've been reading, Mr. Holmes' private correspondence.

Mr. Less, you're wrong, Dr. Watson.

If I didn't read all the people's correspondence,

I would know what's going on in the village.

Hmm, you were right, Gilly.

It has newspaper clippings.

And by the way, you were fed about the murder of Mrs. Tred Gold, as well.

Urred about it.

I told the bed this morning at the funeral.

We just say that you're the bell ringer, as well as the postman.

Let's show half years, Dr. President of the Coral Society, too,

as well as being on the Perry's Council.

You're a busy man, Gilly.

That I am, sir.

Take this off to do now.

I'm to ring those bells again.

Not another few moves, you know.

No, sir.

A wedding this time.

Oh, you're here.

Young Sam Perry is marrying the Slater Girl.

And you might say I'm responsible for bringing them together.

Got some of their letters mixed up, I think.

To each other, hope to exchange them, and I've

present them before you know what's happening.

They're getting married.

Reggie, look you figure myself, I am.

They are for Gilly.

Other people want their letters.

Mr. Holmes doesn't want his keepers.

He'll be your idol, Chakka.

All right, Mrs. Crabapple's in vinegar.

One of the time, days you'll smile.

And the world will come to a end.

Good day, gentlemen.

Good night.

Talkative of the day, buddy, yes.

Oh, Mr. Holmes.

Mrs. Lacken's in the old.

The poor old lady is most anxious to talk to you.

Mrs. Lacken?

She has the sensed shop in the ice-tree.

Her only son, and I'm away from home a few months back.

I think that's what she wants to speak to a woman.

Oh, but good, my friend's here for a rest, Mrs. Miller.

I told her that stuff, but she won't go away

without seeing Mr. Holmes.

Oh, very well.

Ask her to come in, please, Mrs. McGill.

Yes, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, I do bother to see her home.

Sounds like a criminal matter.

The disappearance of an only son can never be a trivial matter.

I'm a trivial for you, not for her.

Mrs. Holmes and Dr. Watson, dear.

Thank you, miss.

Good morning, Seth.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Please sit down, Mrs. Lacken.

That's it.

Now, once the trouble.

It's time, sir.

The only son.

He let me four months ago, and I've not seen him

at either of him since.

You've had no message from him, sir, the left?

Not one word I've fed out of him in mind, sir.

Is there any idea of his reason for leaving

with the late Mrs. Actress?

None, sir.

He was a good boy, and he worked out,

and he didn't fool around with those flippet-in-jip girls

in the village.

I think his mitt with foul pride, gentlemen.

And I want you to find out about him for me, Mr. Holmes.

Others say, in the village, that you're

the greatest detective in England.

Mrs. Lacken, I'd be glad to help you,

but you'll give me no clues to work with.

I'm afraid that I can...

If it's money you want, I've got 20 pounds in my post

to save him to solve yours if he can bring my Tommyome to me.

But at least tell me this, sir.

Mrs. Lacken, I wouldn't dream of accepting a feed.

However, I shall give you a problem some thought.

If I arrive at any conclusions, I'll get in touch with you at once.

God bless, Mr. Holmes.

Good morning, three o'clock.

A good day.

I don't see how you could help her home, nor do I, at the moment.

But a young man who has grown up in a small village like this

may have led a life that his mother is totally unaware of.

You said that you'd have to work on one of your stories today,

but as I am led up from the editor to the strand magazine,

yesterday requesting a man to give the suit as possible.

Spended.

Then you will stay at the inn and work on your latest masterpiece.

But I scarred the village to see what may be found out

about the missing young man.

Oh, there you are, Holmes.

I was beginning to think you'd love lost.

Hello, Lacken.

I trust you had a profitable session with pen and paper.

Oh, my God, about half a chapter.

I would have done more if it hadn't been for those in several days.

The betting ceremony that the weather gilly

told us about this morning.

I'm tired.

Oh, well, what you can find out about this is Lacken and his son,

among other things that he had a secret mother unknown to his mother.

And the object of his effect was none other than the little

broadest art to you this morning.

Really?

Is it a doctor?

No, it's a half day off and I was unable to find her.

However, I shall question you when she brings art to you tomorrow morning.

Come in there, Ian.

Oh, Mrs. Nicholon.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Here's your tea and shaving water.

Where's Mary this morning?

She didn't come to work.

Must be elegant.

Under a liable girl.

And no better than she ought to be if last me.

It's no jump for me to be carrying tea and not water upstairs.

I hear the village bell chirping for another funeral.

Those can't thought have a burial every morning.

I really don't see how the population can run to it.

It's another suicide, sir.

Another suicide?

Good lord.

Oh, John Larabee, the baker.

Even if it's something you can miss in Australia.

It's okay.

And they foreclosed on his shop.

Neang himself.

Will you be wanting a cup of the boiled egg tea or breakfast, gentlemen?

No, I'll have much of an after.

Thank you, Emma.

Yes, sir.

That woman seems absolutely heartless.

She almost smacks her lips and she tells us about these tragedies.

Yes, Watson, I noticed it.

This peaceful village is beginning to seem strangely sinister to me.

And since you have no appetite for breakfast,

perhaps you'll join me in a little excursion at the end of your dress.

Of course.

Where are we going?

To see the maid, Mary.

I'm anxious to talk to her before another funeral bell begins to fill.

This must be the college home.

I said it was the one we've had suckle over again.

Yes.

And there's Mary sitting on the floor.

Oh, she's gone up.

She's coming.

She's coming up the path to meet us.

Good morning, Mary.

I'm sorry you're not feeling well.

Yes, you're out.

Good lord.

Love you, come here.

Don't ask about my hands.

Or should I serve a girl a method of dangerous men like you?

Oh, you misjudgerous girl.

I assure you no, Watson.

Let's be ought to admit we didn't come here because of our concern for Mary's health.

You know what, did you come here, sir?

Mrs. Lackland asked me to try and find her son, Tom.

Tom?

Yes, Tom.

I thought you might be able to help me, Mary.

I could help you, Mr. Holmes.

I'll be helping, Mr. Holmes.

You're coming.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

I'm coming.

Can you, can you serve a letter for me today?

No, last.

There's nothing for you again.

There must be.

There must be.

No, last.

If the letter would come, I'd bring it to you as far as my legs would carry me.

No, last.

Morning, Mr. Holmes.

Dr. Watson.

Left some letters at the end for you, doctor.

You had a letter from a lady.

Oh, oh.

I didn't have some lady.

It reached with a smell of violence.

It did.

And it was written in green ink on gray paper, sir.

Amazing deduction.

That sounds like your young friend from daily is what.

How did you know that?

Well, I mean, I don't have a young friend from daily is what's quite.

Gillie, you told another funeral belt date in June.

I saw.

And the tragic thing it was.

Fair to my call it.

Oh, let it be.

Angle yourself, because he didn't get money from his own in Australia.

I found him, I think.

I was the one to cut him down.

And right in the post bank.

The letter he was waiting for.

The letter that'll save these pirates.

God, what a gust of peace of Ireland.

That it was, that it was.

Well, gentlemen, I'll be on my way.

Good day.

Good day, Mary.

Perhaps that letter will arrive tomorrow.

I'll never even talk about it.

It is a shame.

That's why you deserted me.

Deserted you, Mary?

You speak almost as if you were his wife.

I am his wife.

What?

Who admitted secretly and watched their five months ago come Tuesday?

And he never told his mother.

With a fight, too.

She thought I was beneath him.

I told him to go and get a good job and then return here and fetch me back with him.

He went away all right.

But he never came back since he was.

So, when he left, did he give no clues to his destination?

No hint of any kind, Mary?

Well, he did want to say, Mary, I'm going to clear out to this pavilion and make my fortune.

Even if I have to bury him.

And he said, bury me fortune.

That's a joke, isn't it?

Dad, no one can make mine.

I think I do, Mary.

Watson, we're taking a short train journey as soon as possible.

Oh, where are we going?

We're going to the town of Berry.

Search if this young lady has happened.

What makes you think Tom might be in Berry, Mr. Henry?

Because the famous fortune caught in those aren't there.

It would seem possible that when your husband joked of being his fortune,

he was talking of going to the mills where.

Whatever it is called,

he won't be coming back for me.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

Don't talk like that.

But here, remember you have friends.

Mrs. Lactin.

How much longer term's going to be?

Leave me standing outside the factory gates.

If I were a plastic coach, no, Mary.

There he is.

Come.

Come.

Hello, Watson.

The meet me to introduce you, Mr. Tom Lactin.

Tom?

Mrs. Dr. Watson.

How do you know Dr. Watson?

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

I know.

Mr. Dr. Watson.

How do you know, Dr. Watson?

How do you know?

What do you mean?

You Don't mind.

Now, I do.

You called her make men.

How do you do?

Your behavior has been absolutely shocking.

Oh, what are you talking about?

I'm pleading your dear old mother and desserting.

Oh, your pride because you are ashamed of her.

You are an 謝謝, sir.

You deserve a good host for me and has a good mind to give it to you.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Dr. Watson.

But I don't like the words you use.

No need to come up to the door.

No, let's waste time on being at Comunias Watson.

Let's get back to the station as fast as we can.

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Hi, there's Mary's house.

I'm dying to see you.

And after this reunion, Tom,

I suggest that you both go and see your mother.

I'm sure she'll forgive you.

Yes, Mr. Rounds, I'll do that.

Absolutely to the warner,

your sub-girls may be something of a shock.

I think it's a shock that Mary can handle.

She must be up.

Go as well.

Knock again.

If you don't mind, she's at least.

Quick heavens!

That was a revolver shot.

Come on, Watson.

Help me break in the door.

Ah!

Not a fault.

That was a fine place to break off your story.

You left me right on the edge of a cliff.

Had the young girl shot herself?

She'd shot at her toes, Mr. Bell.

But fortunately, a last minute lack of courage.

It made her a shock go wild.

Holmes and I, on the young bridegroom,

burst into the heart of rest into smoking revolver from her.

I must confess that the union between the two young lovers

was a touching sight.

In fact, I told considerably older.

Then I was at Holmes and I stood there

staying to the top reassured.

Mary, darling, it's all right.

I'm here.

I'm telling you, I think I'm back from it.

I thought you never won.

I've got to take care of myself.

But I ain't sick of it.

I'll say I'm there, Mary.

Everything's going to be all right now.

We'll be talking, won't it?

I'm so tired.

And now, Tom, I think the time has come to reassure Mary

that you did right to her.

Of course I did, Mary, darling, and I sent you money

and told you that I'd be back here to take you to

ferry as soon as I'd saved up in her.

You loved me, Tom.

And twice a week.

Well, I wrote to mother too.

Then why did not you get the letters?

The answer to that should be obvious, my dear.

Dearly, the postman, deliberately withheld him from you.

Really?

Quite held.

Why?

I have my suspicions.

Strong suspicions.

But I have to get proof.

Tell me, Mary, the day before yesterday, Mr. Fred Gold murdered his wife.

Do you know how he learned of her infidelity?

Well, I'm not sure.

But what did he miss?

It was so that it was through some letters that got mixed up.

Then that is addressed to her.

Would the liver to his office instead of at the ass?

Dearly again, precisely.

Should I live a whole terrible pattern against the take-shape?

Tom, yes, Mr. Rowe?

I'm going to lay a trap.

To spring it, I shall need your assistance.

Of course, Mr. Rowe, dearly.

Wait for it with Mary until darkness falls.

Then mother yourselves up and go to your mother's house.

Wait there and waiting and let no outsider see you until you hear from me.

Since you two love birds have been separated for four months,

I don't imagine that'll be too unpleasant.

Quiet, Watson.

You understand, Tom?

Yes, Mr. Rowe.

Good.

Then come on, Watson.

What's your plan, Holmes?

I'll tell you as we go.

One thing I can promise you,

before the sun is very high tomorrow,

I shall free this village from one of the most subtly evil powers I've ever come in contact with.

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Good morning, Dr. Watson.

Mr. Rowe?

Good morning, Mrs. McConway.

Good morning.

I always felt that Mary was a low bird girl,

and now she's killed herself.

But of course, I had to come to work.

Hello, it's for the charge room, Mrs. Micheal, I must say.

In any case, the thicker says that the progress was above sound mine.

Yes, madam, you can't blame her.

Well, I'll be getting into the church.

Holmes, this pass is beginning to get on my nerves.

What a way of accomplishing by burying an empty coffin.

No, as soon as you'll get it.

Come on, let's slip into the best ways.

This way?

Well, where are we going, Holmes?

Up in the fair, beneath the belt rail.

Here they are.

Opposing Gile turns master when he finds out we know his secret.

Then we must handle him to the best part, then if he wants to.

Well, I must say, I do not rest the thought of a classical high in the belt rail of the church.

The man must be insane.

Obviously, that's why his power must be destroyed.

The store apparently leads to the belt rail.

Keep your wit about your Watson.

Good morning, Gile.

Mr. Holmes.

Dr. Watson.

You've got to see me at work.

That's nice of you.

Not often I get totally up here.

We haven't come up here to see you at work, Gile.

We do your time off the work only too well.

Yes, Gile, we do your secret.

What secret's that?

You're mad with power, Gile.

You've tried to control the destiny of the village.

In your opposition, as postmanly you are,

you have the power to give life and death.

Let's die, answer.

And it's a great power.

It makes the man feel good.

Almost like a god, you might say.

My secretary, you're responsible for the murder of Mrs. Tekko.

I serve the Taiwan and for the old man hanging himself.

You were responsible for John Lerbister's died, weren't you?

That's how I was.

Let a big fight unfolds me off the village's coffin.

I swore I'd make it like my ex, the God did.

Your reign is over, Gile.

You'll never tell the bell again.

The only one you'll hear will be a prison bell.

You can't touch me, Mr. Holmes.

You've got no proof.

There's nothing you can do.

Don't be too sure.

I've enough inputs to take your job away.

You...

Take me away from your bells.

I...

I live for these bells.

You want to take me away from them.

You couldn't live with the power they give you.

Could you, Gile?

They're trying to destroy me!

You are destroyed, Gile.

Yes, you've already failed.

Mary's alive.

Hello?

What's the coffin they're buried on there?

Here's full of stones.

You'll be the laughing stock of the village, Gile.

They're never laughing, Gile.

You can't touch me, Mr. Holmes.

I'm beyond justice.

He's running up the ladder leading to the bell car.

Come back, Gile.

Come back.

He's mad as a hatter.

What's he going to do off there?

Might set fire to those people.

Can we get him out of this?

I'm going to fetch him, Holmes.

No, Watson.

He'd do a knife as he pledged.

And with that record, his suitcase and the narrow opening,

leading into the bell chamber, he would never stand a chance.

He'd get you on the first left.

How are we going to get him down?

There's only one way.

He's in that tiny loft containing his beloved bells.

We'll see how much he loves them at close quarters.

I doubt if he can stand the noise in that confined space.

Where's that bell road?

Come down, Gile.

I'm down from there!

Stop!

Stop ringing my bell!

Stop until you come down, Gile.

Stop ringing up!

I can't stand it!

You're right, my man!

You are mad, Gile.

Man with power.

Come down here, I say.

I'm coming!

Great himsie, hold him some other bell press.

Holmes, he has the chance of surviving that fall.

I have no intention of causing down happy men to jump to his death, Watson.

Though I cannot help the people that is for a dementiaed mind

may find a hefty oblivion this way,

rather than in the confines of an ensign.

Yes, you'll probably ride home.

It's been a shocking case, Watson, shocking.

And once again, it proves the old saying that

violence does in truth recoil upon the violent.

And the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another.

Now, Dr. Watson, what about next week?

Well, I'll never see you, Watson.

Next week, I think I'll tell you a rather gruesome story

about how Sherlock Holmes saved the life

and the sanity of a certain Count Romagna.

I call it the adventure of the Carpathian horror.

The night's new Sherlock Holmes adventure

was suggested by an incident in Saratha Conan Post's story

that golden pants name.

Nigel Bush appeared through the courtesy of California Pictures,

Tom Conway, by permission of Eagle Eye and Pictures.

The Sherlock Holmes series is produced by Tom McKnight

with original music composed and conducted

by Alex Sinner.

This is Joseph Bell speaking for Cremel Haertonic

and Cremel Shampoo, and inviting you to be with us

next week at the same time.

When Dr. Watson will tell us the adventure

of the Carpathian horror.

I'll tell you the adventure of the Carpathian horror.

I'll tell you the adventure of the Carpathian horror.

I'll tell you the adventure of the Carpathian horror.

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Who cares?

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See?

Things in credit unions help small businesses make payroll.

This bill would cut the vital resources they need.

While increasing megastore profits!

They deserve it.

Don't they?

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for corporate megastores.

Paid for it by the Electronic Payments Coalition.