Monster of Terror

- Mornin'. Taxi?

- That's right.

- American?

- How d'you figure it out?

Your clothes don't fit proper!

- Maybe you can recommend a tailor.

- Too much responsibility.

Tailoring's personal.

You here on holiday?

Sorte. I'm going to the Witley place.

You're not.

- Something wrong?

- Nothing wrong.

- Can you tell me how to get there?

- No. Sorry, mate.

- I wonder if you could help me.

- Possibly.

I'm anxious to get to the Witley place.

Sorry. I can't help you.

Can you help me?

Excuse me. This man following me.

He's asking for the Witley place.

Here he comes.

Hello. Is there any place around here

where I can rent an automobile?

No. Bicycle, maybe.

Where are you going?

- The Witley place.

- You're wasting your time.

- How d'you figure that?

- The Witley place!

He wants to go to the Witley place!

Anything wrong with wanting to go there?

- Is there anything wrong with that?

- Well, is there?

- Bicycle shop's down the street.

- "ls there?" he asks!

- Hello.

- Something you want?

I'd like to rent a bicycle for a few days.

Where would you be riding it?

I'll pay for it in advance.

- I asked where you'd be going.

- To the Witley place.

- I'd need a bicycle, wouldn't l?

- Yes.

And more than that.

You'll not be using one of mine.

Why? You've got loads.

I don't see anybody waiting.

- No bicycles for rent.

- What about the motor?

I've nothing for rent.

What will it cost to get to the Witley place?

More than anything you have to offer.

Why? What's the matter

with everybody in this town?

Nothing's the matter. Here.

Just what's that supposed to mean?

It means the only way you can get

to the Witley house from here

is on your own two feet.

Hello?

Hello?

How do you do? There was no answer

so I took the liberty of entering.

The signs clearly say to keep out.

You must have seen them.

Oh, yes. I saw them.

By what right

have you entered this house?

- I've come to visit the Witleys.

- Oh? I am Nahum Witley.

Well, sir, actually it's Susan

I came to visit.

Susan? My daughter's

not receiving visitors.

I must ask you to leave.

- This the way you treat your guests?

- Guests? Guests are invited.

- I don't remember inviting you.

- Oh, I have been invited.

By Mrs Witley.

"Stephen Reinhart".

You are Stephen Reinhart?

Uh, yeah. That's right.

My daughter did mention your name.

She met you in America at university?

- We were in the same science class.

- Science!

It would disturb Mrs Witley to see you.

Again, I must ask you to leave.

- It isn't her I've come to see.

- Quite impossible.

I will have Merwyn

take you to the village.

Steve!

Susan will ask you to stay.

But for reasons I cannot go into,

I must insist you tell her that

you have to leave at once. Merwyn!

Get the car.

Steve!

Susan!

- You look great!

- I thought you'd never get here.

- It's only been a month.

- Is that all?

- Father, this is Stephen Reinhart.

- I know.

- I must speak to you alone, Susan.

- I'll take him to meet Mother.

It's forbidden

for your mother to have visitors.

Only for a minute.

Mother's been waiting to meet Steve.

I had no idea you lived in a house

so, uh... sumptuous.

This is my great-grandfather, Elias Witley.

He built this house over 150 years ago.

This next one?

It's my grandfather, Corbin Witley.

Oh? What did he do?

He went insane.

We must get rid of him, Merwyn.

He must not stay.

Steve, you must understand

about Mother. She's not well.

Mother?

Come in and close the door.

Mother, this is Stephen Reinhart.

We have been expecting you.

I'm, uh... I'm sorry

you're not feeling well, Mrs Witley.

It will pass.

You are a welcome guest

in this house, Mr Reinhart.

- Thank you.

- My husband will protest.

- But I shall speak to him. Susan?

- Yes?

I would like to speak to Stephen alone.

Yes, Mother.

Please, sit down.

I am glad that you have come at this time.

Merwyn!

Merwyn, are you all right?

Yes, sir.

I'm going to need your help.

You can trust me, sir.

- About what, Mrs Witley?

- Come here.

Closer.

That box, Mr Reinhart, there.

Open it.

- It's an earring.

- Yes.

It's an earring.

Take it out of the box. Examine it.

- Looks like gold.

- Yes. It's gold.

But its importance doesn't lie

in the metal it is made of.

- I'm afraid I don't understand.

- Why should you?

You probably think this whole house

is obsessed with mystery.

I tell you, that single earring you

are holding is surrounded by mystery.

It... It belonged to my maid, Helga.

She was a nice simple girl

and completely devoted to me.

Well, about a month ago, she went down

with some terrible disease.

I begged her to go to the doctor

in Arkham.

- Did she go?

- No.

No, I don't think she did.

Chains for devils!

Whatever it was,

she seemed to be overcome by...

by something, well... Well,

it almost seemed like self-loathing.

She took to wearing a veil as if

to hide herself from prying eyes.

Why, um...

Why is the earring so important?

About a fortnight ago,

she came here to see me.

She was crying.

She said she was...

she was frightened

of what was happening to her.

- What was happening to her?

- I don't know.

I'm not sure.

Anyway, she left,

and she dropped that earring.

Stephen, I haven't seen her since.

Well, perhaps Mr Witley knows.

My husband

says he knows nothing.

Stephen, it's because of all these

things that I had to be sure of you.

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