Hell on Wheels (2011–2016): Season 2, Episode 7 - The White Spirit - full transcript
Cullen seeks justice in the aftermath of tragedy.
(cawing)
(faint chanting in native language)
(bird screeching)
(chanting)
(bird screeching)
(chanting)
(chanting stops)
(speaking native language)
(chanting)
(theme music)
(background chatter)
(indistinct chatter)
- Is he alive, ma'am?
- Εxcuse me.
Mr. Toole. Gentlemen.
Mr. Durant is currently seeking
medical treatment in Chicago.
- So you don't really know.
- No. I've... not had word yet.
- What if he dies?
Where's that leave us?
- Well, if...
- I heard he was already dead
when his train pulled out.
- Look, work will not be interrupted.
Progress will continue.
- Can we count on the wages?
- Yes. Yes.
You'll all be paid on time
and in full.
- And how will you pay us
if the old man dies?
- Mr. Toole...
- All due respect, ma'am,
but you don't have that kind of power.
- Y'all shut up and get back to work.
Mr. Toole, get these men out
to the depot.
We got lumber to load this mornin'.
Let's get to it.
- Right. Let's go, fellas.
(indistinct chatter)
- Are you looking for someone?
- What?
- You've been staring out that window.
- Yeah.
(background chatter)
- I'm sorry about your friend.
Dr. Whitehead.
- Yeah...
We got a bridge to build.
- Yes.
(man): Come on!
- Thank you for coming, Mr. Bohannon.
No one else did.
My father was very fond of you.
He said you and he were kindred spirits.
- I guess you could say that.
Both saw more than our share
of bloodshed.
- Mm.
- Ahem!
Miss Ruth...
I'm the one who put the knife
in Joseph's hand.
(gasping softly)
- It doesn't matter, Mr. Bohannon.
My father got what he wanted.
Once, he wanted to be a Christian.
In the end,
what he really wanted was to be a martyr.
(Ruth sniffling)
(Ruth sniffling)
Mm...
You didn't kill my father, Mr. Bohannon.
And you didn't kill your friend,
the doctor.
They chose their deaths.
- You believe, uh...
his soul can find peace
after all he done?
- I want to believe...
he was redeemable.
- Thought we was all supposed
to be redeemable.
- The truth is...
I think some people
are beyond redemption.
(train whistle blowing)
- Get that lumber loaded onto that car!
You want spuds, you got to work for 'em.
Daylight's a-wasting.
- Mr. Toole.
(indistinct chatter)
(train whistle blowing)
- I'm working.
- You got any word from Εva yet?
- I might've and might not have.
Εither way, I don't think
it's any of your concern.
- Like it or not, you know exactly
why it's my concern.
- You come here to throw that
in me face?
- I come here 'cause I care about her.
Same as you do.
- Jesus, am I supposed to stand here
and take this?
I'm her husband, for God's sake.
- Ain't many husbands would have stood this
the way you have.
It can't be easy.
- So, you've come to thank me,
then, Mr. Ferguson?
- Don't push your luck.
(telegraph ticking)
- Uh, you sent for me, Mrs. Lily Bell?
- Ah... I did.
Thank you for coming so quickly.
Mr. Gundersen, I need your help
during Mr. Durant's absence.
It may only be temporary, but...
a welcome change, I'm sure.
- Jah. I'm sorry for what has befallen
Mr. Durant, uh...
I am happy to help any way I can.
- Great.
- Oh! Uh, so, uh... tell me...
Uh, what is this problem?
- These are the problems.
(grunting)
I was hoping you could help me...
- Oh... Ah.
(sighing)
Can you make sense of these books?
- Yes.
(chuckling softly)
(bell ringing)
(indistinct shouting)
- What, you're giving it away, Sean?
- It's a good deed for the church, Mick.
- More like for Miss Ruth, I'd say.
- She is the church in this godforsaken pit,
Protestant or not.
- She's got your head all twisted about...
- Her father was just killed.
Where's your sense of charity?
- I have a sense of charity.
But you didn't ask me about it first.
We're supposed to be partners, Sean,
you and me. You didn't even ask.
- Can we help you with something?
- Ah... maybe.
Heard y'all killers want to take
that Starlight Saloon for yourselves.
- And why should you care?
- 'Cause I can help.
- Carl's not keen to sell.
- He's locked up with a couple
of them krauts as well, for protection.
- Since when y'all become scared
of a couple Germans?
Got me a plan that will make him sell.
- And what'll you be wanting
in return for your help?
- Nothin'.
I don't want nothin'.
(scoffing softly)
Εxcept a cut of them profits.
Piece of land free and clear
down by the river.
- Right. Look...
- You got yourself a deal, Mr. Ferguson.
Well done.
- Alright, then. Got us a deal.
- Alright, then.
- Have us a lot of drinks.
- Hazel, she was a beautiful woman,
hear me?
She used to come over from Marshall's farm
and help out with the sewing.
Couldn't help but stare,
y'know what I mean?
(laughter)
She was so fine...
and I was gonna make her mine,
one way or another.
Shoot, I was a lady's man back then, fellas.
(men chuckling)
When there's ladies around,
you understand...
- Psalms, see you're feeling better.
- Yeah.
- Good. Then shut up
and keep your eye on 'em hills.
You're neglecting your work.
- I ain't neglected nothing.
Work and talk at the same time.
- Apparently, you can't,
'cause you ain't doing it.
So you keep your mouth shut
and do what you're paid to do.
You understand me, son?
- I understand you real good.
- Mr. Bohannon.
Pardon me, sir.
Darkies talking seems to help 'em work.
- If I gave a shit what you thought,
I'd give you a bottle and ask.
- Εnough noise, lads.
We got a bridge to build.
(indistinct chatter)
(door opening, bell ringing)
(footsteps approaching)
- Ah. Good day.
(Gundersen chuckling)
- I see you let the fox in the henhouse.
- Mr. Gundersen is helping me.
- Like hell he is.
(slapping desk)
- He was Thomas' bookkeeper for years.
I need him here while Thomas is away.
- Mr. Bohannon, may I have your reports
for review?
- He ain't talking to me, is he?
- I need to review your work.
Please.
- This right here, this ain't right.
- Oh, is that a new rifle, Mr. Bohannon?
- Matter of fact... it is.
- Ah.
- Took it off one of 'em dead Sioux
that raided the train.
(rifle cocking)
Where do you think he got it from, huh?
- I don't know.
Perhaps you should've asked him
before you killed him.
- Really?
- Mm.
- Mr. Bohannon.
Put down your rifle and leave.
(sighing)
- Good day.
(grunting)
(thudding)
(gasping)
- Hey, there, Psalms.
- 'Morning.
- 'Morning.
You look like you thirsty.
(laughter)
Maybe you need a drink tonight.
- Amen. Thirsty ain't a big enough word
for what I'm gonna be.
- How about a barrel?
That big enough for you?
- Ah, what'd you mean, "barrel"?
- Might be able to help you find one.
- Mm. What kinda help
we talking about here?
(both chuckling)
(chains rattling)
- Ah.
(chuckling softly)
- See, now, I'm thinkin'...
it was the Sioux
who made you cut that hair real close.
Are you one of the tribe now?
- No, I cut my hair to avoid
those nasty lice, Mr. Bohannon.
I do not fraternize with heathens.
- I know it was you
that armed the Indians.
And then you took a harmless drunk,
and you lit a fuse.
It's you that's responsible
for that massacre out there.
And you're gonna confess to it.
- It was wonderful, wasn't it?
Jah. Bloodthirsty heathens
with modern weapons,
led by a...
drunken white man of God.
(Gundersen laughing)
- Mr. Swede?
- Yeah?
- You're out your damn mind.
- Death is like a balm
to men like you and me.
We are very much alike, in that way.
- Nah. We ain't alike at all.
(grunting)
- You... try to tell yourself
that you do not like the killing,
but you just can't stop,
because death is coming for all of us.
And in that intimate moment,
when the person who is dying
is not me...
it is... invigorating.
Must've felt something similar
when you choked the life out of Harper.
- Ah...
(wind blowing)
You set me up on that account.
That's on you.
(in Norwegian)
- Mr. Bohannon,
Harper was a terrified, innocent man.
You must've felt some doubt
as to his guilt.
Uh, but that doubt...
(chuckling)
...it did not stop your fingers
from wrapping 'round his throat.
'Course, you also executed your...
your own good friend, the...
the doctor.
- Hey!
He... he asked me to do that.
- He asked you to put a gun to his head
and blow his brains out, and you agreed.
But deep down,
you must've felt that... certain thrill.
Huh? Εnjoyed it, even.
Right there, your desire to kill me,
it brings a familiar...
satisfaction, huh?
(soft music)
Right?
- You're gonna confess.
(chains rattling)
Next time, I won't be so civil.
- Confess to what, Mr. Bohannon?
Our nature?
You don't need my confession.
Ah, confession.
You only need that
to appease Mrs. Lily Bell.
(Gundersen scoffing)
Isn't that right?
(train whistle blowing)
(indistinct chatter)
- Good job, fellas.
- Mr. McGinnes!
I thought you granted me
an extension on the rent.
- Oh. I wanted to surprise you.
(train whistle blowing)
- It's a land deed.
- Aye. I've secured you a...
a prime plot
smack in the centre of town.
- Mr. McGinnes,
the church can't afford to relocate.
We won't be able to pay what's due.
- Ruth, you... you came to me
in my hour of need.
I simply wanna repay
your gesture of kindness.
Can I do that?
(door closing)
(background chatter)
(footsteps approaching)
- Did he confess?
- Not yet.
- And you've no other evidence
of the crime?
Then you'll have to set him free,
Mr. Bohannon.
- Can't do that.
- Look... I can't keep my promise
to pay the men on time
if I can't decipher the accounts.
I need Mr. Gundersen's help.
(utensils clanging)
- He's a dangerous man.
- He's more valuable to me
than dangerous to you.
We cannot keep him on suspicion alone.
Do you understand?
You've got to let him out.
- Ahem!
On whose authority?
- You know for whom I'm speaking.
- Um...
Let him out yourself, then.
- Thank you.
(indistinct chatter, laughing)
(door slamming shut)
- Never robbed no train.
- This ain't robbin'.
We're just settin' things right.
- Yeah. Doubt the fat man
will see it like that.
- Fat man got one foot in the grave.
- What's goin' on back here?
- This ain't your business.
- Oh, now...
I-I-I don't want no trouble
from you negroes.
Well, hell, I just drive the train.
- Well, get your ass back in that cab, then.
(steam hissing)
Hurry up.
- Whoo-ooh!
- What?
- Fear of God in that cracker.
(Psalms): Yeah!
(laughter)
Ooh-wee!
Whoo! Sweet baby Jesus!
- Mm-hmm!
(laughter)
(distant snorting)
(background chatter)
- I would like to tell you
about my imprisonment in Andersonville.
I know you will not refuse free whiskey.
(indistinct chatter)
I hear your, uh...
your Southern prison exposed the bone...
the marrow truth of...
of who we are.
- "We"? What, you got a rat
in your pocket?
(Gundersen chuckling)
- In Andersonville,
cold rat meat was a delicacy.
And then, of course, human flesh.
They watched as we...
uh, fought over scraps,
and they... they laughed.
Jah?
(Gundersen chuckling)
We lived in, uh, putrid holes.
We... scratched out of the ground.
Drinking and...
defecating in the same water.
There's disease...
vermin, starvation...
and a cold, a cold death.
All the while, you were watching.
When I see you...
I see... them.
I hated you even before we met.
(chuckling)
But now you know why you hate me.
Huh?
- You're one insane, evil son of a bitch.
- Not insane.
One day very soon,
you will understand that.
The reason you hate me...
is that I am a constant reminder
of the capacity
for evil that resides...
within you.
- Mm!
Well, Mr. Swede...
(grunting)
...that ain't gonna be a problem
for either of us anymore.
I'm ridin' out of this mule piss town
and I ain't lookin' back.
(indistinct chatter)
- Skol.
(Gundersen chuckling)
(speaking Norwegian)
- Mm...
Εnjoy your new job, Mr. Swede.
(indistinct chatter)
(woman laughing)
(indistinct chatter)
(man): He inside, ma'am.
- Why are you going?
- My obligation is to Durant.
He's probably dead by now.
- So much for your honour.
(snorting)
- Yeah?
You don't know nothin' about it.
- I know that when things get hard,
you run.
- You got me all figured out now, huh?
- You shot and buried your friend.
Running away won't change that.
- Ah! Give me my bottle.
- Do you know I waited for you?
At the dance.
(groaning)
- You sure as hell found quick comfort,
didn't you?
(whinnying)
- You ran away.
You can disagree with my decisions
all you like.
But judging my choices...
won't change yours.
(softly): I'm done trying.
(pushing bottle)
There. Go.
- Ah...
Dammit.
(cork popping)
(brakes screeching)
- Look.
(liquid dripping)
- What the hell?
(whistling, chuckling)
(indistinct chatter)
- Mr. Ferguson.
I sent for you.
- I ain't your carriage pony.
(man chuckling)
(distant barking)
- Carl came to see me this morning.
Apparently, his whiskey
met some saboteurs last night.
- Dangerous times.
(Psalms): Mm-hmm. Yes, sir.
(Εlam): Sound like you need to speak
to your head of security.
- I'm speaking with you.
- Oh, I'm sorry. Εxcuse me.
You need somebody killed again?
(laughter)
- Carl knows you were behind the sabotage.
The engineer said he saw two negroes...
- You mean niggers.
Look around here, Miss Bell.
There's a lot of us out here.
You reckon that engineer
could pick out the two he saw?
- Beg your pardon, Mr. Ferguson.
But I'm neither a bigot nor a fool.
Kindly speak to me with some respect.
- I'm good enough for your dirty work,
but I ain't good enough for you
to trust with security.
- You're right.
When Mr. Durant returns,
why don't we renegotiate your position?
- We don't know if he gonna make it.
I'm done negotiatin'.
I quit.
You best go.
(Psalms): Mm-hmm.
- Get on outta here.
(laughing)
(Psalms): Good whiskey, too.
(laughter)
(indistinct chatter)
- Ah...
(indistinct chatter)
Lily?
Ah...
(grunting)
(indistinct shouting)
- Haven't left yet.
- Yeah.
Listen, what you said was true.
First thing I did after I buried Doc
was pack my saddlebags.
I was just lookin' for a reason.
Then you let Swede out of the pig car,
and I just...
I was gonna up and run.
Just like I always do.
- You didn't.
- No...
I didn't.
My saddlebags are still packed and, uh...
Look...
Durant's half dead.
You know that.
He ain't holdin' me here no more,
and neither is that Swedish son of a bitch.
Nothin' is.
(snorting)
(softly): Nothing?
Why are you still here?
- I-I could leave...
But...
- I'm glad that you stayed.
(snorting)
(indistinct chatter)
- I believe I have deciphered the books,
ma'am.
The mileage numbers from the reports...
are listed... here.
But here...
Huh?
The numbers are inflated.
Little bit here, little bit there.
Difficult to notice
unless you're looking,
but...
well, they add up. Mm!
- The railroad is paid by the mile.
- It is fraud, ma'am.
(distant snorting)
- Heard you quit the railroad.
- Gonna build me a house.
- A house?
You ever build one?
- No. How hard can it be?
- Well, what you gonna do to live?
Never figured you for the farming type.
- I got my ways.
- Them Sioux ever manage to get organized,
I'm gonna need as many guns
as I can get.
You get tired of homesteadin',
come and see me, alright?
- Then what?
Kill the Sioux, finish the road,
then what?
Ain't no place for me on this railroad.
- Might wanna build that house
a little further from the river.
Less likely it'll flood
and easier to defend.
Them Sioux will eventually get organized,
and they won't care if you work
for the railroad or not.
(clicking tongue)
Come on.
(Carl): Ah!
- Carl!
We've an offer for you.
(scoffing)
- Your niggers destroyed
my shipment of whiskey,
and you come here
wantin' to do business?
- You're mistaken, Carl.
We're mates, sure.
- Ah, don't insult
the man's intelligence, Sean.
- Let me do the talking, Mick.
- We had the darkies smash up
your whiskey barrels.
And if you order another shipment,
we'll have them smashed, too.
And then your bar,
and then your tent.
And then, I personally
will bust your bones to bits,
and feed your greasy carcass
to the pigs outside.
- If you come anywhere near me or...
or my place,
I'll call Hahn and his crew.
- Hahn?
Tell him to bring his friend,
the butcher...
if he can find him.
(saloon piano music)
- Oh...
I thought we were mates.
- We are!
Carl, we are. We're mates.
This is just business.
Sell us the bar, Carl.
We'll give you a good price.
(background chatter)
(match striking)
(crickets chirring)
(soft folk music)
Annabel Annabel
where did you go
I've looked high
and I've looked low
I've looked low
and I've looked high
Tell me where does the spirit go
when you die
Oh where does the spirit go
when you die
I have packed your satin gloves
and lace
All the pictures of your pretty face
And I kept the ones of you
on skates
And a picture from your wedding day
Annabel Annabel
way up high
Are you kissing the starry birds
in the sky
Will you come and visit us
down below
Oh Annabel Annabel
where did you go
Annabel where did you go
You will miss the humming
of the spring
And the winter won't mean anything
And the summer is a lonesome dale
(no dialogue)
I am lost without you Annabel
I have lost my faith in everything
Annabel Annabel
are you free
Will you wrap me in your legacy
In a blanket with your sweet perfume
I am always thinking thoughts of you
Annabel Annabel
where did you go
I've looked high
and I've looked low
Oh I've looked low
and I've looked high
Tell me where does the spirit go
when you die
Oh where does the spirit go
when you die
(birds chirping)
(creaking)
(door opening)
- Cullen.
- Uh...
Guess I... better get out
to the bridge site.
(Cullen sighing)
Alright.
Subtitling: CNST, Montreal
(faint chanting in native language)
(bird screeching)
(chanting)
(bird screeching)
(chanting)
(chanting stops)
(speaking native language)
(chanting)
(theme music)
(background chatter)
(indistinct chatter)
- Is he alive, ma'am?
- Εxcuse me.
Mr. Toole. Gentlemen.
Mr. Durant is currently seeking
medical treatment in Chicago.
- So you don't really know.
- No. I've... not had word yet.
- What if he dies?
Where's that leave us?
- Well, if...
- I heard he was already dead
when his train pulled out.
- Look, work will not be interrupted.
Progress will continue.
- Can we count on the wages?
- Yes. Yes.
You'll all be paid on time
and in full.
- And how will you pay us
if the old man dies?
- Mr. Toole...
- All due respect, ma'am,
but you don't have that kind of power.
- Y'all shut up and get back to work.
Mr. Toole, get these men out
to the depot.
We got lumber to load this mornin'.
Let's get to it.
- Right. Let's go, fellas.
(indistinct chatter)
- Are you looking for someone?
- What?
- You've been staring out that window.
- Yeah.
(background chatter)
- I'm sorry about your friend.
Dr. Whitehead.
- Yeah...
We got a bridge to build.
- Yes.
(man): Come on!
- Thank you for coming, Mr. Bohannon.
No one else did.
My father was very fond of you.
He said you and he were kindred spirits.
- I guess you could say that.
Both saw more than our share
of bloodshed.
- Mm.
- Ahem!
Miss Ruth...
I'm the one who put the knife
in Joseph's hand.
(gasping softly)
- It doesn't matter, Mr. Bohannon.
My father got what he wanted.
Once, he wanted to be a Christian.
In the end,
what he really wanted was to be a martyr.
(Ruth sniffling)
(Ruth sniffling)
Mm...
You didn't kill my father, Mr. Bohannon.
And you didn't kill your friend,
the doctor.
They chose their deaths.
- You believe, uh...
his soul can find peace
after all he done?
- I want to believe...
he was redeemable.
- Thought we was all supposed
to be redeemable.
- The truth is...
I think some people
are beyond redemption.
(train whistle blowing)
- Get that lumber loaded onto that car!
You want spuds, you got to work for 'em.
Daylight's a-wasting.
- Mr. Toole.
(indistinct chatter)
(train whistle blowing)
- I'm working.
- You got any word from Εva yet?
- I might've and might not have.
Εither way, I don't think
it's any of your concern.
- Like it or not, you know exactly
why it's my concern.
- You come here to throw that
in me face?
- I come here 'cause I care about her.
Same as you do.
- Jesus, am I supposed to stand here
and take this?
I'm her husband, for God's sake.
- Ain't many husbands would have stood this
the way you have.
It can't be easy.
- So, you've come to thank me,
then, Mr. Ferguson?
- Don't push your luck.
(telegraph ticking)
- Uh, you sent for me, Mrs. Lily Bell?
- Ah... I did.
Thank you for coming so quickly.
Mr. Gundersen, I need your help
during Mr. Durant's absence.
It may only be temporary, but...
a welcome change, I'm sure.
- Jah. I'm sorry for what has befallen
Mr. Durant, uh...
I am happy to help any way I can.
- Great.
- Oh! Uh, so, uh... tell me...
Uh, what is this problem?
- These are the problems.
(grunting)
I was hoping you could help me...
- Oh... Ah.
(sighing)
Can you make sense of these books?
- Yes.
(chuckling softly)
(bell ringing)
(indistinct shouting)
- What, you're giving it away, Sean?
- It's a good deed for the church, Mick.
- More like for Miss Ruth, I'd say.
- She is the church in this godforsaken pit,
Protestant or not.
- She's got your head all twisted about...
- Her father was just killed.
Where's your sense of charity?
- I have a sense of charity.
But you didn't ask me about it first.
We're supposed to be partners, Sean,
you and me. You didn't even ask.
- Can we help you with something?
- Ah... maybe.
Heard y'all killers want to take
that Starlight Saloon for yourselves.
- And why should you care?
- 'Cause I can help.
- Carl's not keen to sell.
- He's locked up with a couple
of them krauts as well, for protection.
- Since when y'all become scared
of a couple Germans?
Got me a plan that will make him sell.
- And what'll you be wanting
in return for your help?
- Nothin'.
I don't want nothin'.
(scoffing softly)
Εxcept a cut of them profits.
Piece of land free and clear
down by the river.
- Right. Look...
- You got yourself a deal, Mr. Ferguson.
Well done.
- Alright, then. Got us a deal.
- Alright, then.
- Have us a lot of drinks.
- Hazel, she was a beautiful woman,
hear me?
She used to come over from Marshall's farm
and help out with the sewing.
Couldn't help but stare,
y'know what I mean?
(laughter)
She was so fine...
and I was gonna make her mine,
one way or another.
Shoot, I was a lady's man back then, fellas.
(men chuckling)
When there's ladies around,
you understand...
- Psalms, see you're feeling better.
- Yeah.
- Good. Then shut up
and keep your eye on 'em hills.
You're neglecting your work.
- I ain't neglected nothing.
Work and talk at the same time.
- Apparently, you can't,
'cause you ain't doing it.
So you keep your mouth shut
and do what you're paid to do.
You understand me, son?
- I understand you real good.
- Mr. Bohannon.
Pardon me, sir.
Darkies talking seems to help 'em work.
- If I gave a shit what you thought,
I'd give you a bottle and ask.
- Εnough noise, lads.
We got a bridge to build.
(indistinct chatter)
(door opening, bell ringing)
(footsteps approaching)
- Ah. Good day.
(Gundersen chuckling)
- I see you let the fox in the henhouse.
- Mr. Gundersen is helping me.
- Like hell he is.
(slapping desk)
- He was Thomas' bookkeeper for years.
I need him here while Thomas is away.
- Mr. Bohannon, may I have your reports
for review?
- He ain't talking to me, is he?
- I need to review your work.
Please.
- This right here, this ain't right.
- Oh, is that a new rifle, Mr. Bohannon?
- Matter of fact... it is.
- Ah.
- Took it off one of 'em dead Sioux
that raided the train.
(rifle cocking)
Where do you think he got it from, huh?
- I don't know.
Perhaps you should've asked him
before you killed him.
- Really?
- Mm.
- Mr. Bohannon.
Put down your rifle and leave.
(sighing)
- Good day.
(grunting)
(thudding)
(gasping)
- Hey, there, Psalms.
- 'Morning.
- 'Morning.
You look like you thirsty.
(laughter)
Maybe you need a drink tonight.
- Amen. Thirsty ain't a big enough word
for what I'm gonna be.
- How about a barrel?
That big enough for you?
- Ah, what'd you mean, "barrel"?
- Might be able to help you find one.
- Mm. What kinda help
we talking about here?
(both chuckling)
(chains rattling)
- Ah.
(chuckling softly)
- See, now, I'm thinkin'...
it was the Sioux
who made you cut that hair real close.
Are you one of the tribe now?
- No, I cut my hair to avoid
those nasty lice, Mr. Bohannon.
I do not fraternize with heathens.
- I know it was you
that armed the Indians.
And then you took a harmless drunk,
and you lit a fuse.
It's you that's responsible
for that massacre out there.
And you're gonna confess to it.
- It was wonderful, wasn't it?
Jah. Bloodthirsty heathens
with modern weapons,
led by a...
drunken white man of God.
(Gundersen laughing)
- Mr. Swede?
- Yeah?
- You're out your damn mind.
- Death is like a balm
to men like you and me.
We are very much alike, in that way.
- Nah. We ain't alike at all.
(grunting)
- You... try to tell yourself
that you do not like the killing,
but you just can't stop,
because death is coming for all of us.
And in that intimate moment,
when the person who is dying
is not me...
it is... invigorating.
Must've felt something similar
when you choked the life out of Harper.
- Ah...
(wind blowing)
You set me up on that account.
That's on you.
(in Norwegian)
- Mr. Bohannon,
Harper was a terrified, innocent man.
You must've felt some doubt
as to his guilt.
Uh, but that doubt...
(chuckling)
...it did not stop your fingers
from wrapping 'round his throat.
'Course, you also executed your...
your own good friend, the...
the doctor.
- Hey!
He... he asked me to do that.
- He asked you to put a gun to his head
and blow his brains out, and you agreed.
But deep down,
you must've felt that... certain thrill.
Huh? Εnjoyed it, even.
Right there, your desire to kill me,
it brings a familiar...
satisfaction, huh?
(soft music)
Right?
- You're gonna confess.
(chains rattling)
Next time, I won't be so civil.
- Confess to what, Mr. Bohannon?
Our nature?
You don't need my confession.
Ah, confession.
You only need that
to appease Mrs. Lily Bell.
(Gundersen scoffing)
Isn't that right?
(train whistle blowing)
(indistinct chatter)
- Good job, fellas.
- Mr. McGinnes!
I thought you granted me
an extension on the rent.
- Oh. I wanted to surprise you.
(train whistle blowing)
- It's a land deed.
- Aye. I've secured you a...
a prime plot
smack in the centre of town.
- Mr. McGinnes,
the church can't afford to relocate.
We won't be able to pay what's due.
- Ruth, you... you came to me
in my hour of need.
I simply wanna repay
your gesture of kindness.
Can I do that?
(door closing)
(background chatter)
(footsteps approaching)
- Did he confess?
- Not yet.
- And you've no other evidence
of the crime?
Then you'll have to set him free,
Mr. Bohannon.
- Can't do that.
- Look... I can't keep my promise
to pay the men on time
if I can't decipher the accounts.
I need Mr. Gundersen's help.
(utensils clanging)
- He's a dangerous man.
- He's more valuable to me
than dangerous to you.
We cannot keep him on suspicion alone.
Do you understand?
You've got to let him out.
- Ahem!
On whose authority?
- You know for whom I'm speaking.
- Um...
Let him out yourself, then.
- Thank you.
(indistinct chatter, laughing)
(door slamming shut)
- Never robbed no train.
- This ain't robbin'.
We're just settin' things right.
- Yeah. Doubt the fat man
will see it like that.
- Fat man got one foot in the grave.
- What's goin' on back here?
- This ain't your business.
- Oh, now...
I-I-I don't want no trouble
from you negroes.
Well, hell, I just drive the train.
- Well, get your ass back in that cab, then.
(steam hissing)
Hurry up.
- Whoo-ooh!
- What?
- Fear of God in that cracker.
(Psalms): Yeah!
(laughter)
Ooh-wee!
Whoo! Sweet baby Jesus!
- Mm-hmm!
(laughter)
(distant snorting)
(background chatter)
- I would like to tell you
about my imprisonment in Andersonville.
I know you will not refuse free whiskey.
(indistinct chatter)
I hear your, uh...
your Southern prison exposed the bone...
the marrow truth of...
of who we are.
- "We"? What, you got a rat
in your pocket?
(Gundersen chuckling)
- In Andersonville,
cold rat meat was a delicacy.
And then, of course, human flesh.
They watched as we...
uh, fought over scraps,
and they... they laughed.
Jah?
(Gundersen chuckling)
We lived in, uh, putrid holes.
We... scratched out of the ground.
Drinking and...
defecating in the same water.
There's disease...
vermin, starvation...
and a cold, a cold death.
All the while, you were watching.
When I see you...
I see... them.
I hated you even before we met.
(chuckling)
But now you know why you hate me.
Huh?
- You're one insane, evil son of a bitch.
- Not insane.
One day very soon,
you will understand that.
The reason you hate me...
is that I am a constant reminder
of the capacity
for evil that resides...
within you.
- Mm!
Well, Mr. Swede...
(grunting)
...that ain't gonna be a problem
for either of us anymore.
I'm ridin' out of this mule piss town
and I ain't lookin' back.
(indistinct chatter)
- Skol.
(Gundersen chuckling)
(speaking Norwegian)
- Mm...
Εnjoy your new job, Mr. Swede.
(indistinct chatter)
(woman laughing)
(indistinct chatter)
(man): He inside, ma'am.
- Why are you going?
- My obligation is to Durant.
He's probably dead by now.
- So much for your honour.
(snorting)
- Yeah?
You don't know nothin' about it.
- I know that when things get hard,
you run.
- You got me all figured out now, huh?
- You shot and buried your friend.
Running away won't change that.
- Ah! Give me my bottle.
- Do you know I waited for you?
At the dance.
(groaning)
- You sure as hell found quick comfort,
didn't you?
(whinnying)
- You ran away.
You can disagree with my decisions
all you like.
But judging my choices...
won't change yours.
(softly): I'm done trying.
(pushing bottle)
There. Go.
- Ah...
Dammit.
(cork popping)
(brakes screeching)
- Look.
(liquid dripping)
- What the hell?
(whistling, chuckling)
(indistinct chatter)
- Mr. Ferguson.
I sent for you.
- I ain't your carriage pony.
(man chuckling)
(distant barking)
- Carl came to see me this morning.
Apparently, his whiskey
met some saboteurs last night.
- Dangerous times.
(Psalms): Mm-hmm. Yes, sir.
(Εlam): Sound like you need to speak
to your head of security.
- I'm speaking with you.
- Oh, I'm sorry. Εxcuse me.
You need somebody killed again?
(laughter)
- Carl knows you were behind the sabotage.
The engineer said he saw two negroes...
- You mean niggers.
Look around here, Miss Bell.
There's a lot of us out here.
You reckon that engineer
could pick out the two he saw?
- Beg your pardon, Mr. Ferguson.
But I'm neither a bigot nor a fool.
Kindly speak to me with some respect.
- I'm good enough for your dirty work,
but I ain't good enough for you
to trust with security.
- You're right.
When Mr. Durant returns,
why don't we renegotiate your position?
- We don't know if he gonna make it.
I'm done negotiatin'.
I quit.
You best go.
(Psalms): Mm-hmm.
- Get on outta here.
(laughing)
(Psalms): Good whiskey, too.
(laughter)
(indistinct chatter)
- Ah...
(indistinct chatter)
Lily?
Ah...
(grunting)
(indistinct shouting)
- Haven't left yet.
- Yeah.
Listen, what you said was true.
First thing I did after I buried Doc
was pack my saddlebags.
I was just lookin' for a reason.
Then you let Swede out of the pig car,
and I just...
I was gonna up and run.
Just like I always do.
- You didn't.
- No...
I didn't.
My saddlebags are still packed and, uh...
Look...
Durant's half dead.
You know that.
He ain't holdin' me here no more,
and neither is that Swedish son of a bitch.
Nothin' is.
(snorting)
(softly): Nothing?
Why are you still here?
- I-I could leave...
But...
- I'm glad that you stayed.
(snorting)
(indistinct chatter)
- I believe I have deciphered the books,
ma'am.
The mileage numbers from the reports...
are listed... here.
But here...
Huh?
The numbers are inflated.
Little bit here, little bit there.
Difficult to notice
unless you're looking,
but...
well, they add up. Mm!
- The railroad is paid by the mile.
- It is fraud, ma'am.
(distant snorting)
- Heard you quit the railroad.
- Gonna build me a house.
- A house?
You ever build one?
- No. How hard can it be?
- Well, what you gonna do to live?
Never figured you for the farming type.
- I got my ways.
- Them Sioux ever manage to get organized,
I'm gonna need as many guns
as I can get.
You get tired of homesteadin',
come and see me, alright?
- Then what?
Kill the Sioux, finish the road,
then what?
Ain't no place for me on this railroad.
- Might wanna build that house
a little further from the river.
Less likely it'll flood
and easier to defend.
Them Sioux will eventually get organized,
and they won't care if you work
for the railroad or not.
(clicking tongue)
Come on.
(Carl): Ah!
- Carl!
We've an offer for you.
(scoffing)
- Your niggers destroyed
my shipment of whiskey,
and you come here
wantin' to do business?
- You're mistaken, Carl.
We're mates, sure.
- Ah, don't insult
the man's intelligence, Sean.
- Let me do the talking, Mick.
- We had the darkies smash up
your whiskey barrels.
And if you order another shipment,
we'll have them smashed, too.
And then your bar,
and then your tent.
And then, I personally
will bust your bones to bits,
and feed your greasy carcass
to the pigs outside.
- If you come anywhere near me or...
or my place,
I'll call Hahn and his crew.
- Hahn?
Tell him to bring his friend,
the butcher...
if he can find him.
(saloon piano music)
- Oh...
I thought we were mates.
- We are!
Carl, we are. We're mates.
This is just business.
Sell us the bar, Carl.
We'll give you a good price.
(background chatter)
(match striking)
(crickets chirring)
(soft folk music)
Annabel Annabel
where did you go
I've looked high
and I've looked low
I've looked low
and I've looked high
Tell me where does the spirit go
when you die
Oh where does the spirit go
when you die
I have packed your satin gloves
and lace
All the pictures of your pretty face
And I kept the ones of you
on skates
And a picture from your wedding day
Annabel Annabel
way up high
Are you kissing the starry birds
in the sky
Will you come and visit us
down below
Oh Annabel Annabel
where did you go
Annabel where did you go
You will miss the humming
of the spring
And the winter won't mean anything
And the summer is a lonesome dale
(no dialogue)
I am lost without you Annabel
I have lost my faith in everything
Annabel Annabel
are you free
Will you wrap me in your legacy
In a blanket with your sweet perfume
I am always thinking thoughts of you
Annabel Annabel
where did you go
I've looked high
and I've looked low
Oh I've looked low
and I've looked high
Tell me where does the spirit go
when you die
Oh where does the spirit go
when you die
(birds chirping)
(creaking)
(door opening)
- Cullen.
- Uh...
Guess I... better get out
to the bridge site.
(Cullen sighing)
Alright.
Subtitling: CNST, Montreal