The Four Feathers Page #2

whose death last year

was, uh, such a loss to us.

Hear! Hear!

Tonight I am proud to announce

the engagement of my daughter...

to Harry Faversham...

my dear old friend's only son.

Bravo!

- Good old Harry!

- Good luck, Harry!

Ten years ago,

when Harry was a boy...

I raised my glass in his honor...

with the toast, "May he prove

the bravest of all the Favershams. "

Harry Faversham...

coupled with the name

of my daughter Ethne.

Harry!

- Good luck!

- Good luck, Harry.

The company is now dismissed.

The business of dancing

will now commence.

Well, Colonel, you're off

on this Egyptian affair, eh?

Of course it's only a minor campaign.

It'll do you a world of good.

The army's too soft nowadays.

- You mean not hard enough?

- Of course!

Now, the Crimea - Ah!

War was war in those days...

and men were men.

Let me tell you

what happened at Balaclava.

Uh, you remember the positions,

Doctor, don't you?

Only too well.

I was over there, on the extreme left.

Here were the Russian batteries,

behind the nuts.

Guns, guns, guns, guns.

On the right, the British infantry.

The thin red line.

I suppose they didn't

get much to eat.

- What are you talking about?

- Well, sir, you said they were so - so thin.

Bah! The line, I meant!

- Not the men.

- Oh.

Right here was the commander in chief.

And here was I...

at the head of the old 68th.

- Sorry Father had to drag Egypt into it.

- Tired of Egypt already?

We have it for breakfast and lunch...

and the honor of the regiment

for supper.

I suppose he quite understands

you're marrying me and not the regiment.

He's not quite sure about that.

Are you... quite sure?

When we are old

and creaky with rheumatism...

we shall look back

and think of this night.

Ethne, you'll never creak.

Never in your life.

We shall creak with the best of them.

And through the creaks

will come the sound of this dance music...

and the light of the moon

and the scent of the flowers.

This is a solemn occasion, Harry.

A memory is being born tonight...

a memory that shall stand

the test of all the years.

Moments like this are better

than all the memories in the world.

The memories will be the best...

because they'll be right out of reach

of uncertainty and care.

Memories just float about on their own

with no shadows upon them.

The dance music, the moon

and evening primroses. That's all.

You're not going to rob me

of my solitary dance, Ethne.

John, I'm so sorry. It's my fault.

Is this your dance going on?

- It's just started.

- Oh, dear. There's a partner waiting for me.

Excuse me.

It wasn't his fault, John.

It was mine. I talk too much.

- Shall we dance?

- It's a polka.

- Don't you like a polka?

- A bit jerky, isn't it?

Rather like saying "good-bye"

in Morse code.

- I'm sorry, John.

- There's no need to be sorry.

- It's terribly hard to explain.

- There's nothing to explain.

You don't expect a girl

to sit down and write out a catalog -

points why I love Mr. "A,"

points why I don't love Mr. "B."

It's only Mr. "B" who sits down

and puzzles out the points against him.

I never saw such an impressive list.

Reasons why Ethne Burroughs

doesn't love John Durrance.

- Reason one -

- Don't, John.

Oh, I put down

about 40 reasons altogether.

Reason 41 was,

she loves the other man.

So I crossed the rest out.

- Thank you.

- Harry's a fine fellow.

Were you to help him,

he shall have a splendid career.

- You'll enjoy helping him, won't you?

- I hope I shall be able to.

You will.

I think you'll be very happy.

And I think I shall always love you.

Oh, John, dear.

I'm so sorry.

Oh, rubbish.

I shall be all right.

You're not going to be sorry for anything tonight.

Come and dance that polka. I've just learnt it.

- Faversham.

- See what he wants, Lubbock.

He wants to see you privately, sir.

Oh, very well.

Well, Faversham?

I want you to accept this, sir.

- What is it?

- I am resigning my commission.

Resigning your commission?

- What do you mean?

- I mean just that, sir.

I don't understand you, Faversham.

I should have taken this action

months ago.

I only accepted a commission

for my father's sake...

because all his family have been soldiers.

But when he died,

my duty towards him was done.

Your duty towards him?

Have you no duty towards your country?

Oh, go lie down in a dark room, my boy.

You'll be all right in the morning.

I've made up my mind, sir.

Faversham, if you do this...

you will regret it

for the rest of your life.

I'm sorry, sir.

I've made up my mind.

You're deliberately

shirking your duty, sir!

I refuse to accept your resignation!

I am within my rights to resign, sir.

You cannot refuse.

I never thought I should live to see

a Faversham play the coward.

- May I go, sir?

- Yes.

Go.

- The officers -

- Well?

Are waiting, sir.

Whew!

Gentlemen,

final orders have just arrived.

The regiment leaves on Thursday.

We march to Portsmouth

and embark at midday.

I, uh - I've just received this telegram

from General Kitchener.

"Glad to welcome your regiment

to my command. "

- Well, that's very nice of him, isn't it?

- Gentlemen.

There will be one change

in regimental orders for the 15th.

Mr. Faversham has seen fit

to send in his papers...

on the eve of his regiment

sailing for active service.

His place will be taken by Mr. Parker,

who was to have remained at the depot.

- Well done, Parker!

- Glad you're coming with us!

- Ohh!

- Look out, sir!

- Well, I must be off.

- Good-bye, John.

- Good-bye.

- Good luck to you.

- And keep an eye on young Peter for me.

- I will, sir. Both eyes.

There's a lovey dove!

What's she crying for?

There.

Well, good-bye, Aggie.

Take care of your ma.

- Bye.

- Good-bye, lovey.

Don't take on now.

I'm all right.

The kids are going to miss you.

- Good-bye, my boy.

- Good-bye, Father.

Good-bye.

- The dogs are going to miss you.

- Yes, sir!

# Should auld acquaintance be forgot #

# In the days of auld lang syne #

# For auld lang syne, my dear #

# For auld lang syne #

# We'll take a cup of kindness yet #

# For the days of auld lang syne ##

Harry!

What's happened? Peter left last night.

Father went with him to see you all off.

They've canceled it.

You're not going after all?

They've gone.

The regiment sailed this morning.

- But I haven't gone with them.

- I don't understand.

We've discussed it so often -

the futility of this idiotic

Egyptian adventure...

the madness of it all...

the ghastly waste of time

that we can never have again.

- What have you done, Harry?

- I've resigned my commission.

I should have done it sooner.

Long ago.

It's released me

from the life of an impostor.

That's all a man is when he fails

to be true to the things he believes in.

I believe in our happiness.

I believe in the work to be done here

to save an estate that's near to ruin...

to save all those people

who've been neglected by my family...

because they preferred glory in India,

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