Bonnie Scotland

Your Ladyship, please.

Douglas?

The door, Thomas.

Is...

...everybody here, I presume?

- Yes, sir.

- Everyone except the heir from America.

- Oh, well, no need to wait for him.

I was notified of his arrival in town

today, but I've no faith in it.

So we'll proceed

to the business on hand.

To wit, the reading of the will

of the late Angus lan McLaurel...

...a kindly master, a friendly friend...

...and a loyal Scot

whom everybody respected.

- God rest his soul.

- Amen.

If you don't mind, I'll omit the legal

phraseology, get down to the bequests.

Aye.

"First, I bequeath to my grandson

in America, Stanley McLaurel...

...whom I've never seen, a..."

Laddie, what do you make

that out to be?

Could you tell us where

we could find a policeman?

You'll have to pardon my friend, officer,

he's a stranger here.

I wonder if you could direct us

to the best hotel in your fair city.

- Right over there, sir.

- Thank you.

Thank you.

No, nothing today.

Good day, madam. We'd like for you

to give us a room and a bath, please.

I can give you the room,

but you'll have to take the bath yourself.

- By the day or the week?

- You'd better make it by the day.

You see, my friend Mr. McLaurel

is heir to the McLaurel estate...

...and we're moving in there shortly.

- Is that a fact?

Oh, I can see the likeness now.

- Did you know the old gentleman?

- Known him for nigh on to 40 years.

'Twas a sad ending he had.

- What did he die of?

- He died of a broken heart.

You see, he had a no-good son

by the name of Sandy...

...who ran away to America

and married a queen.

- Royalty?

- "Royalty." No, a burlesque queen.

One of those play-actors.

And the old man never forgave him.

- Well, what became of Sandy?

- They had a wee baby boy.

And when Sandy saw the baby

for the first time...

...he committed suicide.

Can you beat that?

What a face that kid must have had.

Sandy was your father.

And I don't blame him.

- Will you show us to our room, please?

- Upstairs, and the first door to the left.

Thank you.

Come on.

Oh, my goodness!

"Therefore, the residue of my estate,

real and personal...

...I do bequeath to my granddaughter,

Lorna McLaurel."

Isn't that wonderful?

"I make the above bequest

to my granddaughter...

...providing she accedes

to my wishes, to wit:

I do appoint Colonel Gregor McGregor...

...at present serving

with His Majesty's forces in India...

...to be the sole guardian

of her estate and person...

...until she shall reach the age of 21."

Well, congratulations, my dear.

The proviso is not so bad.

You'll like my brother, I'm sure.

- Your brother?

- Oh, of course, I forgot.

This is all a surprise to you.

Colonel McGregor is my brother.

And he sent me over here

to fetch you out to India.

India? You mean,

I must really leave Scotland?

Why, it's always been my home

and I love it.

There's nothing to get upset about.

We'll talk about this another time.

When you're over the shock of finding

yourself one of Scotland's richest girls.

Yes. But I'm not going to India.

Alan, you heard what they said.

But you'd never let me go so far away,

would you?

Well, l... I...

Or would you? Oh, Alan.

Alan, that's thousands of miles away.

Alan, dear, don't let me go.

Keep me here near you. Please.

- I don't wanna go away.

- There, my dear.

You come along with me

until you can quiet down.

This thing can be settled

without upsetting anybody.

- You'll excuse me, I know. Come along.

- I don't wanna go. Alan!

Oh, Mr. Miggs, what am I gonna do?

There, there, lad,

everything will be all right.

And now, I thank you

for your gracious attention.

That's all.

There's no hurry.

You'll get what's coming to you.

I'm Mr. Hardy.

This is my friend Mr. McLaurel.

- I believe we're expected.

- Oh, yes, sir. Step right in, sir.

Just a moment, gentlemen,

and I'll announce you.

Thank you.

- Nice fellow, isn't he?

- Charming. I think I'll retain his services.

That's a good idea.

He sure can "buttle."

- Oh. By the way... Mr. Miggs.

- Yes, Mrs. Bunts?

The next time you drop down to Glasgow,

you must come up and see me sometime.

- Thank you.

- That's Mae West.

- Mr. Miggs will see you. Follow me.

- Thank you.

- Right this way, sir.

- Yes, sir.

- Order the gig and wait for me.

- Yes, sir.

- Now, gentlemen.

- How do you do, Mr. Miggs.

I'm Mr. Hardy.

This is my friend Mr. McLaurel.

- I'm glad to meet you. Take a chair.

- Thank you.

And now, Mr. McLaurel,

I'd like to see your credentials.

I beg your pardon, Mr. Miggs,

I didn't get you.

I asked Mr. McLaurel

if he had any credentials.

- Just what do you mean, Mr. Miggs?

- Something to identify himself with.

To prove that he is Stanley McLaurel.

For instance, a passport.

I'm sorry, sir, but we haven't one.

- What? No passport?

- No, sir. You see, it was like this:

We were in such a hurry to get away,

we forgot to get one.

- Well, how did you get into the country?

- We stowed away on a cattle boat.

The roughest trip I ever...

Oh, well, if you can't prove who you are,

there's nothing to be done.

I wonder if these would do, Mr. Miggs.

- Right there, sir.

- Yes.

Oh, I'm sorry. My mistake.

That's the one.

- Is that you?

- Yes. That was taken three years ago.

You can see I wasn't feeling very good.

- See, my left...

- Well, it's proof enough.

- Like father, like son.

- That's fine. Now that's all settled...

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