Woman in Hiding

Alright, Fred, reload.

Hey, you better not let that thing get too hot.

She is liable to blow up and kill a lot of ya.

Not this cannon. You point her north

and she'll start fighting Yankees all over again.

Say, this isn't the cannon from the Town Hall Memorial, is it?

Yep. I'm gonna raise that poor girl, you'll see.

You can't beat firing a cannon to bring up a drownded body.

- What? - Law of nature, young feller.

Light her up.

Boy, I haven't heard that gag

since Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.

That's my body they're looking for.

Those people...

the boats, the cannon.

They're dragging the river for my body...

the body of Deborah Chandler.

No...

Deborah Chandler Clark.

They're looking for the body of Mrs. Selden Clark.

Selden, please.

There's nothing you can do here. She's dead, Selden.

Don't say that, Lucius.

I've got to say it, and you've got to face it.

I won't believe it. I can't.

Not until they find her.

Pardon me, Mr. Clark.

- I'm from the "Gazette." - Well, not now.

I thought you might like to make a statement.

- No. No statement. - Please.

And no pictures.

I think you're making a big mistake, gentlemen.

After all, a bride leaves the house

alone on her honeymoon night...

Young man, have you ever been horsewhipped?

- Are you kidding? - Sheriff!

Maybe you don't see how this looks

to other people, Mr. Clark.

I mean, human nature being what it is,

a bride goes driving in the middle of the night.

A good caning might teach you a decent respect for grief.

Take it easy, Mr. Maury.

Alright, son. You better run along now.

Okay.

Anything I can do for you, Mr. Clark?

No, thank you.

I'm sorry about that, Mr. Clark,

but I'm afraid there's gonna be a lot more of it.

Papers calling up from all over the south.

Some of the big northern papers too.

I'll do what I can to keep them from bothering you too much.

Thanks.

Uh, you won't be going back

to Clarksville right away, will you?

No.

They'll have to have an inquiry tomorrow.

Maybe the next day. Just a formality, you know.

But you will have to answer a few questions.

What will you tell them, Selden?

Accident? Suicide?

What would I tell them?

The truth?

The impossible truth that even I can hardly believe.

No. No one would believe it.

Your secret is safe, Selden.

No one will pry into your grief.

No one will ever dream that your heart is burdened

not with sorrow, but with murder.

When was it that murder first entered your mind?

Was it that afternoon I drove up to the plant?

Was it then?

Deb.

Deborah.

Deborah, weren't you even gonna say hello?

- Well, you seemed very busy. - What?

- I... I said that you seemed... - Wait a minute.

Now what were you saying?

Oh, I just said you seemed very busy.

Well, it's lunch hour. I'm not busy now.

Well... hello.

Oh, come on, you can't be in that much of a hurry.

I haven't seen you here at the mill for six months.

You haven't seen me at all in much longer than that.

I know. I haven't been very attentive, but...

it's kind of hard to explain...

Yes, I know. I've tried explaining it to myself.

- Well, dad's waiting. - Now wait a minute, Deb.

You know how I really feel about you.

I thought I did, once.

It's just that... well, it's just that

I've been busy, that's all.

Things have been kind of hectic here at the mill.

I have been working day and night,

spending a lot of time out of town...

It really isn't necessary to explain, Selden.

It's, it's kind of embarrassing.

Hello, Debby. What are you doing here?

Wasn't I supposed to meet you downtown for lunch?

Well, I... I thought I'd drop in for a last look.

After all, I won't be seeing the place for a long time.

You won't? Why not?

Well, I, I'm going to New York for a while.

- To live there. - New York?

But why didn't you...

You might have mentioned it to me, John.

Why?

Well, I... I just think you might have.

I don't think so.

You're general manager of my mill, Selden,

not general manager of my family.

Yes, of course.

Goodbye, Deborah.

Bye.

If you were rude to him for my sake, it wasn't necessary.

When I'm being rude, I'm doing it for the good of my own soul.

There's no law he has to be in love with me.

I might have mentioned it to him.

- Why, the impudent young... - Yes, dad, I know.

You've told me how you feel about him.

Not lately, I haven't.

Selden Clark IV.

You'd think it was a line of kings.

Well, it is a good family. He has a right to be proud.

Proud? Of what?

Selden Clark III

who was killed in a saloon brawl in New Orleans?

It was a duel.

Or Selden II

who cut off all the forests

and didn't put back so much as a weed?

What a family.

You're not forgetting the general, dad.

I'm coming to the general.

That fearless warrior, Selden I.

That hero who threw himself and 5000 troupes

on the Union bayonets at Ridge Creek.

- Oh, dad, please. - That's what he did.

Deliberately threw himself. No rhyme or reason.

He was crazy, I tell you.

- My grandfather always said... - And he was there.

Oh, dad, do we have to go into it?

Sure, we do, Deb.

This boy here, he's the general all over again.

I watch him charging around the plant like it was a battlefield.

Well, he does keep it running for you, doesn't he?

New hydroelectric dynamo would keep it running even better.

But I wouldn't want one for a son-in-law.

Well, don't worry.

You're not going to have him for a son-in-law.

Operator, operator, are you sure

you're ringing the right number?

But it's the mill. Somebody's got to be in the office.

Oh, Josh, did my father say anything this morning

that he might be delayed?

No, he didn't, Miss Deborah.

He was expecting to be back long before train time.

Yes, please, keep ringing. I'll hold on.

It's alright, Miss Deborah. It sounds like him right now.

Good. Operator, never mind. Thank you.

Something, something terrible has happened, Deb.

Your father...

He was on a high catwalk with Selden

inspecting a machine.

He must have gotten dizzy. He fell.

I was only a few feet away. I ran to him, but...

Oh, no.

No.

Oh.

- Where is he? - At the mill.

He couldn't be moved.

It's bad, Deb. It's bad.

He hasn't regained consciousness.

Oh.

No.

You can take the bags upstairs.

Miss Deborah won't be going away now.

When mother died, dad and I came home together.

He stopped here at the door.

I was nine years old.

He took my hand and said...

"Look at the trees, Deborah.

Feel the wind.

And remember people die, but...

the world doesn't."

It feels so empty.

Deb.

Deb, these past few days,

how I've wished we had been close to each other

like we used to be.

- That I hadn't... - No, don't, Selden.

Not because you're sorry for me.

But it's not that at all, Deb.

Y... you'll only make me sorry for myself...

and that's one thing I won't be.

Only that's not true.

I am sorry for myself...

and in a way...

for you too.

For me?

Why should you feel sorry for me?