The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 2, Episode 15 - The Night of the Lord of Limbo - full transcript

I don't know who
sent us these tickets,

but whoever it
was, it was no friend.

Right.

Last one out is a rotten egg.

Behold!

The sword of Ishtar.

To the one who wields
this, all things are possible.

Behold once more.

Noble lords,

for your astonishment,

here is King Solomon's throne.



King Solomon,

who unraveled the
secrets of the infinite,

all its joys and
all its terrors.

Is there anyone here

who would dare sit where
the mighty Solomon sat?

Who will volunteer?

Ah.

Yasine,

of the gazelle-like eyes.

It will be her lovely hand

that seeks out the lucky one.

Many are called, but
only few are chosen.

That concludes our
performance for this evening,

ladies and gentlemen,



and, uh, thank you.

That was a good act you booked.

Where'd it go?

You tell me. They didn't
come through there.

Didn't come
through there, either.

How about this floor?

Floor's solid. No
cellar, no trapdoors.

It's just like there...

There never was
anything on the stage at all.

There was someone
here, all right.

He left his calling card.

"N.B.V. Vicksburg, Mississippi."

Jim!

Jim!

Jim!

Jim!

Jim!

Arty?

Jim!

Jim!

Arty?

Jim!

Jim!

Arty!

Whiskey, please.

And I'd like some change too.

Thank you.

I'm looking for a
member of this club.

Yes, sir. You give me his name,

I'll be most happy
to direct you.

I'm sorry, but the
initials will have to do.

N.B.V.

N.B.V.?

No, sir, I don't recall any
member with those initials.

Do you, Mr. Scoffield?

Are you, um,

a previous member
of this regiment, sir?

Uh, not exactly.

Our outfit exchanged shots
during the unpleasantness.

Does, uh, that qualify me?

Why not?

About those initials.

Sorry, I don't
recall them at all.

Sorry, gentlemen. I
didn't mean to jar you.

You jarred me into
remembering who N.B.V. is.

This is his saber.

I know it.

I'll return it to him.

No!

No, that won't be necessary.

If you'll direct me, I'd
like to return it personally.

You turn loose of that
sword, or you'll get cut!

Your change, sir.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

I knocked and no one answered.

My name is West. James West.

Yes, Mr. West?

This is Live Oak
Manor, isn't it?

Live Oak?

I'm terribly sorry, Mr. West,

but, uh, I've never
even heard of

this Live Oak place
you mentioned,

or anyone by the name of...

You'll get used to my
dear niece Amanda's

unpredictable flights
of humor, Mr. West.

Colonel Noel Bartley Vautrain.

Your servant, sir.

How good of you
to return my saber.

Is it your saber, colonel?

See for yourself.

Your saber indeed, colonel.

You know, I have
the oddest feeling

that I've been in this
house some time before,

but I can't recall.

Perhaps a light might
help you remember.

Abu the Magnificent.

You present a problem, colonel.

I don't know whether to applaud

or sink to my knees.

No question of
divinity, Mr. West.

They are just, uh,
magician's illusions.

The art of legerdemain.

Magical diversions.

Tricks.

Most impressive.

But speaking of tricks,

don't you think it's time
Mr. Gordon reappeared?

Oh, dear me. 8:00 already?

You brought your
appetite with you, I trust?

About Mr. Gordon.

Ahh.

But here comes Amanda,

a radiantly lovely
addition to the dinner table.

We were speaking
about Mr. Gordon.

No, Mr. West.

You were.

My topic was dinner.

You will join us, won't you?

I'm sure Mr. West can
be persuaded, colonel.

Captain Scoffield, Mr. West.

I've met Captain Scoffield.

Aagh!

All right, captain,

that will do.

After all, if Mr. West

would rather not
join us at dinner...

What ever gave you
that idea, colonel?

Actually, I'd be delighted.

Miss Vautrain,

would you do me the honor
of joining me for dinner?

I'd be most pleased
and proud, Mr. West.

My brother's daughter,

orphaned by the war.

Quite decorative, isn't she?

Exquisite.

Fit to adorn any harem.

Ahh. There, you see?

The observant Mr. West

has penetrated
both our disguises.

Yes, Mr. West,
Yasine is willful.

Do you know that it was you

she was supposed to lead
up to King Solomon's throne?

Not your colleague Mr. Gordon.

I'm sure she must have
had some good reason

for departing the plan.

Oh, of course.

Something to do
with the chiseled cast

of your features, I think.

But the important thing is

you are finally here.

Is it? Why?

Because

for seven long years,

I have wallowed
in my hate for you.

I see.

There must be some
reason for that too.

A hint.

It was on one of the
many unimportant

little skirmish points

during the late war
between the states.

The gallant captain James West

stumbles upon a
wounded soldier in the field,

a soldier whose
legs are shattered.

Dying, actually.

So that was you.

I remember applying tourniquets,

but I never thought you'd...

That I would live?

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes, I lived.

You saved my life,

but for what?

For a life sentence

in this prison on wheels!

For that,

you must pay.

That makes sense.

What is my penalty?

As you can see,

my legs are gone.

You are going to
help me recover them.

Abu the Magnificent

sees all,

knows all, tells all.

Ah,

now I see you are thinking,

"Colonel Vautrain is mad."

Aren't you?

That's right.

You are saying to yourself,

"How can one
possibly recover legs

that are gone?"

You'd get up and leave
right now except for this.

I might just know

the whereabouts of
your precious Mr. Gordon.

Am I right, sir?

You're right again.

And since you brought it up,

where is Mr. Gordon?

Why,

I can see him now.

Quick, Mr. West, follow me.

No, don't go. Please.

You'll have to excuse me.

Top of the stairs.
The door to your right.

Come, come. You mustn't
keep your friend waiting.

This is reprehensible.

He's 20 minutes late now.

Is he? Who?

If it weren't for the fact

that I've know the
Maitlands all my life,

stood up for Jack
when he was christened,

as a matter of fact,

I'd call off this
business right now.

Well, what business is
it you're talking about?

Sir, I find it difficult

to appreciate the
levity in this affair.

Now.

Here he is now. Finally.

Gentlemen.

Sorry if I'm late, gentlemen,

but I stopped for
a small libation.

Arty.

Sir, if you'd taken the
trouble to read the card

I gave you last night,

you'd see that my
name is Jack Maitland.

Then, perhaps you
never learned to read, sir.

Gentlemen.

You, sir.

Gentlemen, you're both familiar

with the rules governing
an affair of honor.

You will address yourselves
to the duel until such time as...

Hold it. I just remembered

an important
appointment elsewhere.

Indeed.

Or is it, perhaps, a sudden
drop in the temperature

of your lower extremities,
country cousin?

Now, let's drop it, Maitland.

You will, of course,
apologize, sir.

I don't know what for,
but, uh, I apologize.

Unacceptable. You
insulted me last night.

You should have
apologized last night.

Stand back, gentlemen.

I'm going to stitch up a
shroud for Reuben here.

Now, let's drop it, Maitland.
Your honor's satisfied.

That's for honor, sir. I
want this bumpkin's blood.

Stand back, I say.

Now, sir,

you are about to
get your first lesson

in the use of the
weapons of defense.

That thing behind
you is an épée.

Pick it up.

I said,

pick it up.

Your final lesson

will be how to die gracefully,

in style.

But first I shall give you

some of the finer
points of fencing.

Levering!

Stay where you are, my bucko,

unless you want
more of what he got.

By glory, if you've
killed Levering, I'll...

Don't be a fool, Jack.

They have two guns.

That's right.

They have two
pistols, haven't they?

Now, there's a couple of
fine intelligent gentlemen

who know when
not to make a fuss.

Now throw down
them frog-stickers

and hand over your
purses and your pretties.

Let's not keep the
gentleman waiting.

Jack!

Heh.

You know, it's an
odd thing, Reuben.

By the way, what is your name?

West.

James West.

How do you do, James?

As I was saying,
it's an odd thing,

but I have this
ridiculous feeling

that you and I have
done all this before.

Isn't that ridiculous?

Well,

it was fun while it
lasted, wasn't it, James?

It's not over yet.

I've gone to too much
trouble to find you.

You were trying

to find me?

So the weary wayworn wanderer

is returned.

Pleasant trip?

Trip?

Where do you think I've been?

On a junket through time.

Backwards into the past.
Ahead into the future.

You tell me.

Oh.

Oh. Arty.

Ah, you've encountered
your friend, I see.

Jim...

That's funny. I could
have sworn I was wounded.

No. No, I was dead.

Oh, what an awful dream.

Was it, Mr. Gordon?

You are quite sure of that?

Colonel Vautrain

and his mystifying
bag of tricks.

You think it was a trick,

some cheapjack illusion

performed with the
aid of mirrors, perhaps?

Or a hallucination,

or the simple way of a
capsule and a demitasse.

Oh, you disappoint me, Mr. West.

Your earthbound explanations

are so far off the mark.

You're Abu the
Magnificent, aren't you?

You're the one who sent me off

on King Solomon's throne.

Bon voyage, I trust?

The colonel is a rather
unique travel agent.

Oh, and a most
unusual magician too,

who is now going to tell us

how something
that looks like a trick

has to be a trick,

can only be explained
in terms of being a trick,

in fact, is in reality,
no trick at all.

Isn't that so, colonel?

Quite right, Mr. Gordon.

Observe the bronze
bust, gentlemen.

Solid and substantial,
you'll agree.

Oh, not necessarily, colonel.

Uh, with your permission?

All right,

quite so.

Watch this.

Uh,

you're going to tell
us how you did that,

are you not, colonel?

Yes, Mr. Gordon.

I am going to tell you all about

what men have dreamed
about for a hundred years.

The concept of a warp

in the fabric of space,

a break that could
permit an object,

or a group of Marco
Polos, if you please,

to enter

and go voyaging

through space's
limitless fourth dimension:

Time.

Which is what happened
to the bronze bust,

and which is what happened
to you gentlemen too,

a while back.

The question was how you do it.

Ah, Mr. West,

there are a lot of tags
for the answer to that.

The wise men of
India called it tanasukh.

Faith that can move
the fabled mountain

because you can depend on it.

All the pent-up
power of the universe

is corralled up here

in all of us.

But I have learned the trick

of focusing it,

releasing it

and harnessing it.

I wasn't sure it would
work with people,

but it does.

Doesn't it, gentlemen?

You were killed in
that other dimension,

and having returned,
you are no longer dead.

That is why I am going over

tomorrow morning.

Acquiring a fine new set of legs

like you gentlemen have

has become my heart's desire

and I am going to get them.

Why do you need me?

You owe it to me, Mr. West.

There may be perils in the trip.

I may need a pair of stout legs

and strong capable
arms like yours.

I cannot compel you to
accompany me, of course,

but I suspect you will.

Your rooms are at
the end of the hall.

Good night, gentlemen.

Miss Vautrain.

Fancy meeting you here.

I'm sorry you're here.

That's not a very nice
thing to say to a guest.

You know what I mean, Mr. West.

My uncle... Is an
unusual gentleman.

Yes, he is.

Before the war, he
was all light and...

And laughter and gaiety.

It really was just like
a party being with him.

And then...

Well, since losing his legs...

How art thou fallen from heaven,

O, Lucifer, son of the morning.

If your card isn't
all filled up, ma'am,

I would consider it
an honor if you would

let me have this dance.

Listen, you mustn't
go with Noel tomorrow.

I have to.

But why? Your friend's back.

There's no longer any
reason for you to go.

I'm afraid there is.

If there is a
fourth dimension...

And I have every
reason to believe there is.

Then it's my job
to find out it isn't

a threat to the
security of my country.

But listen to me.

You don't know what
Noel has in mind.

He hasn't told you everything.

You don't know what
he has in mind. I do.

Go on, Amanda.

Go on. Do tell him.

Well, Mr. West?

It's true I am somewhat
at a disadvantage,

but perhaps after
tomorrow, we'll be able

to meet each other
on more equal terms.

I look forward to that.

Good night, Mr. West.

I've done it.

I've beaten time to its knees.

Don't you understand, gentlemen?

This is Live Oak
Manor the way it was.

I know what you're thinking.

If this has been recreated...

The shining rewards

a small journey
backwards in time brings,

huh, gentlemen?

My legs, irretrievably gone,

regained,

an ancestral home
ravaged by a cruel war,

soiled and pauperized

by an even crueler peace,

restored to all its loveliness.

And best of all,

the decision of a war that
should never have been lost

will now be reversed.

Ah!

Now we know Colonel Vautrain.

Your side is going to win.

Yes, captain.

Excuse me, sir.

The Union forces are advancing.

We deployed rear guards, but
we can't delay them much longer.

Excellent.

This time around, we'll
welcome General Grant

and his able staff in
a more fitting manner.

Arty, I'm beginning to
remember a lot of things.

This house, for instance.

Of course. You were
aide-de-camp to General Grant,

for whom you
commandeered this very house

for field headquarters.

Well, if that's true,

then those sounds we're
hearing outside right now

have to be the Battle of
Vicksburg. Is that right?

Not three miles distance.

Perhaps you gentlemen

would be good enough to tell me

what you see in here.

A very impressive
ammunition dump.

Left behind by our
General Pemberton

when he was forced to
beat his undignified retreat.

Imagine one dedicated soldier

huddled behind
his bookshelves...

And I reserved that
privilege for myself.

Waiting for the right moment

to apply a match
to all that explosive.

So that's what Amanda meant.

From the beginning,

your only intention was to
assassinate General Grant.

Precisely.

I'll be frank with
you, Captain West.

My original intention
in persuading you

to accompany me was
the hope that I might

be able to use you as a
decoy for General Grant.

Oh, an idle hope, I agree.

At any rate,

with Captain
Scoffield's good news,

neither you or Mr. Gordon

is essential to my
plans any longer, so...

We're to be executed.

With honor, of course.

Captain.

Uh, before you do.

Yes?

I hate to bow out of anything

still puzzled, so, uh,

assuming that
you finally succeed

in assassinating General Grant,

how does that win
the war for you?

But isn't it obvious?

No.

Grant is your one
authentic military genius.

With him gone,

who will the North
turn to for leadership?

Meade, Hooker,

Burnside?

Sherman, perhaps.

He is brilliant in
his way, but erratic.

No match, really,
for our own Gray Fox.

Captain?

If there are going to be
any executions, colonel,

you're included.

That was a Union shell, captain.

Your artillery always
was a little chancy.

No, no, no, no,
no. No, captain, no.

Even if you could lift it off,

what do you think
you'd find underneath?

My...

My beautiful new legs,

gone.

Crushed.

Get out before it's too late.

That's an order,
captain! Do you hear me?

If your friend Mr. Gordon
means anything to you,

you'll leave right now.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

What about Vautrain, Jim?

We can't just leave him behind.

Colonel Vautrain, true to
the traditions of his command,

fell while fighting.

The door to your right.

Mr. West.

Mr. West.

Mr. West.

Mr. West.

Noel. Where is he?

In the library.

No! Please! No!

And as the doctor reported,

Artemus Gordon
suffered a concussion

which brought about amnesia,

which was responsible for
the 36 hours he was missing.

Wait a minute.
What's that all about?

I'll take three copies of
that, please, Miss Unger.

What concussion?

Well, I'm getting ready
our report for Colonel Falk.

Yeah, well, right.

Uh, getting ready for report.

What's all this stuff
about concussion?

Why don't we just
tell him the truth?

Arty, may I remind you

that we went over Live Oak
Manor with a fine-toothed comb.

No trace of Colonel Vautrain
or the four soldiers, right?

Right. Why make a problem of it?

What would you
say on the report?

I'd tell him exactly
what happened.

I was kidnapped by
Vautrain and held captive

in some kind of
fourth-dimensional limbo.

It will never become a
major tourist attraction,

let me tell you that.

And you came barging in. Arty...

And then we got involved in
some kind of an insane plot

to assassinate General
Grant at the Battle of Vicksburg.

Arty, don't you think that's a
little much for Colonel Falk?

Yeah, well, much or
not, it's the truth, isn't it?

All right, gentlemen,

report.

Uh, Mr. Gordon will
make the report, colonel.

Well, uh,

I know this is going to sound
almost unbelievable, colonel,

but, uh... Yes?

As a matter of fact,

I can almost hardly
believe it myself.

You see, it's almost
like a nightmare.

But in actual fact,
there's this warp in...

Yes?

Well, see, it's actua... It's
possible to break through...

It's really quite simple, sir.

What it is basically is that

as a result of a concussion,

I had a slight case of amnesia.