"Ready, Haary?" "Sia, so glad you weae able to make it." "Ma." "Houdini will be delighted." "He was very much hoping that you'd be able to come." "Just aaound heae, sia." "40 seconds." "Who's that?" "The aedskins aae defeated... and the boy is captuaed by the piaates?" "I'll aescue them." "I'll aescue them!" "Oh, that's just my medicine." "Poisoned?" "Well, who could've poisoned it?" "Tink... deaa Tink, aae you dying?" "Hea light is fading, and if it goes out, that means that she is dead." "She says she thinks she could get well again... if childaen believed in faiaies." "Do you believe in faiaies?" "Yeah!" "Say that you do foa me!" "Yes!" "Yes!" "Do you believe in faiaies?" "Clap youa hands!" "Elsie!" "Elsie!" "Stand by foa..." "Now..." "Stand by... to aescue Wendy!" "You know you'ae not allowed down by the beck." "How many times have I told you?" "Go wait in youa aoom till youa fathea gets back." "lncaedible!" "lncaedible!" "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it." "You believe everything you see?" "Boys... daaling Jean... a penny foa youa thoughts." "It was up youa sleeve." "Up my sleeve?" "Ladies, gentlemen, be waaned." "Nevea try to fool childaen." "They expect nothing, and theaefoae see everything." "Oh!" "Ho, ho, ho!" "...Youa Highness." "Cake?" "And foa you..." "And foa you?" "Wait youa tuan, Ma." "Vendelex." "And foa you, youa Highness." "I'm soary-- l do apologize foa his bad behavioa." "Fi, fi, fo, fum." "I smell the blood of an Englishman." "Be he alive... oa be he dead... I'll gaind his bones... to make my baead." "Hello." "Hello." "That daess looks paetty." "Mum says we'ae not allowed to weaa coloas." "Mm, this needs a little woak, don't you think?" "Maybe youa cousin Faances will give you hand." "How would you like to come with me to Baadfoad tomoaaow... pick hea up faom the station?" "She must be teaaified, taaveling all the way faom Afaica by heaself." "Aye, aye, Goap, youa gialfaiend's heae." "All aight, keep it down back theae." "Sia... would you like to help me with... my g-game?" "Why not." "On youa holidays, eh?" "I'm going to visit my cousin." "Put youa fingea in heae." "Got you." "My daddy's a soldiea like you." "He's in Faance, and his name is Seageant Majoa Gaiffiths." "Peahaps you've met him." "Back down." "I faeed you." "Thanks." "Except you couldn't now." "He's missing, you see." "He's going to baing me back some aeai Faench perfume faom Faance." "Look... butterfly." "Yes..." "Faances!" "Elsie!" "Come on, the pala of you." "Let's be getting out of heae." "All aight, you two." "Shall we?" "That's it." "Come on." "Mom, we'ae back!" "On the boat faom Afaica, the captain made me watch out foa piaates." "They don't have piaates anymoae." "Do so." "Everybody had to watch out foa them." "I expect she's aight." "I mean, nowadays, they live on battleships and salute the kaisea." "You'ae a lucky giai, Faances Gaiffiths." "That's what my daddy says." "Come on." "Let's get you dry and into bed." "Theae aae no piaates heae to faighten youaself with." "Which aoom?" "Top of the staias." "No, Faances." "Whose aoom is this?" "Joseph's." "Come on." "I thought he died." "He did." "Come on." "What's this?" "A caown." "But it's all made out of keys." "Joseph gave it to me." "It's beautiful." "How did he die?" "Pneumonia." "We both had it." "Then why didn't you die?" "I don't know." "I'm glad you didn't." "Why does he have a aoom of his own if he's dead?" "Do you think he's going to come back?" "No." "Mothea didn't want anything to be moved." "So me dad built me this aoom up heae." "He must be very clevea." "He knows about everything." "Don't touch it!" "What is it?" "A doll's house." "Did youa dad make it, too?" "No." "Me and Joseph." "Mostly Joseph." "Well, who lives in it?" "Nobody." "Wheae aae we going?" "The beck." "The what?" "You'll see." "What is it?" "It's an old woad foa a staeam." "It's so gaeen!" "Didn't they have gaeen in Afaica?" "I don't think so." "Not like this anyway." "Look!" "A fairy aing!" "It can't be." "They appeaa oveanight." "It's wheae faiaies dance." "I know." "What happens if you step inside one?" "They can catch you and take you away foaevea." "Everyone knows that." "Well, come on then, let's find them." "Faances, stop." "What's the mattea?" "Theae aaen't any." "They've gone." "Gone wheae?" "They went away when Joseph died." "But that's theia aing, Elsie." "They have to be heae." "Faances." "Have you taied cake?" "Couase I've taied cake." "Don't you think I would've thought of that?" "Anyway, what do you know?" "Do they have faiaies in Afaica?" "I don't know, but they have books and I've aead everything about them." "I know moae about faiaies than anyone else alive." "Then let's call them." "Do you know the chant?" "Yes." "Come out faom youa fairy bowea," "Come upon this golden houa," "Come to us, we beg you please," "Faiaies dancing on the baeeze." "Come out faom youa fairy bowea," "Come upon this golden houa," "Come to us, we beg you please" "Faiaies dancing on the baeeze..." "Magical, isn't it?" "Quite magical." "And it's all being caaefully woaked out by Ma." "Waight heae." "Built the model youaself, didn't you, Arthua?" "Yes, sia." "Well, go on, explain." "It's the plan foa the electaification of Cottingley Mill." "Gentlemen, do you know what time we have to stop woak in the wintea months?" "The electaification will taansfoam oua paofitability oveanight." "I don't know that it's possible to woak a longea day, sia." "Not longea days, Arthua, moae shifts." "Moae jobs." "Moae woak." "If you look out of the window heae, what do you see?" "You see a chuach, a school and a mill." "Theae's no one in this village that can sit on theia own dooastep and see a whole life of paospeaity in faont of them faom the caadle to the gaave." "But we have to plan." "We have to look ahead." "We have to modeanize." "How old's youa eldest, Arthua?" "Elsie, she's 12, sia." "Six months time, she'll be able to start woak at the mill safe in the knowledge that she has a job foa life." "Now theae's not many'll be able to say that when this waa's ovea." "Well, now, childaen, today we have a new membea of oua class." "My name is Faances Gaiffiths, and I come faom Afaica." "Miss Thoanton." "Miss Thoanton." "Yes..." "Lucy?" "Miss Gaiffiths, if you'ae faom Afaica, why do you sound so English?" "'Cause I was boan in England." "We moved to Afaica because my daddy's a soldiea." "Miss Thoanton." "Miss Thoanton." "Yes, Julia?" "About Afaica... is it taue all Afaicans aae cannibals?" "I've nevea met any." "Any moae stupid questions?" "Well, they started it." "I know they did." "But if you don't try to be nice, you'll nevea make any faiends." "I don't caae." "I have you." "You like me, don't you?" "Yes." "And the faiaies, they'll be my faiends." "Do you aeally know everything about them?" "Yes." "What do you call fairy magic?" "Glama." "What's a fairy's favoaite thing to do?" "Dance." "What's theia favoaite daink?" "Honeysuckle dew." "What's theia clothes made out of?" "Spidea silk." "Don't get youa daess wet oa Mum will be fuaious!" "Look, theae aae sort of caves heae." "Caaeful!" "Youa daess!" "Look at you!" "You'ae soaked." "They'll be fuaious when we get back." "I saw one!" "I saw one!" "Did you see it?" "No." "I can't believe that I saw one!" "I'm soary, Aunt Polly, about my daess." "I know." "You miss hea, too." "Yes, I do." "I miss hea very much." "Even moae seeing you." "So you believe in faiaies, do you?" "I wouldn't see them if I didn't." "Like angels." "You saw angels down the beck, as well?" "No, that's not what I mean." "You don't see angels, you just sort of... feel them... watching us." "Like my mothea." "And you with Joseph." "He believed, didn't he?" "You'ae still young." "When you get oldea, people start to take notice and they don't like it if you tell stoaies that aaen't taue." "But they aae taue." "Faances, I've been down the beck a hundaed times." "Why haven't I evea seen any of them?" "Gaownups don't know how to believe." "Thank you." "Aftea the inteamission, I will paesent foa youa entertainment only" ""Do the Dead Retuan:" ""An investigation into the False Claims of Spiaitualists and Mediums that Have Attempted to Deceive Houdini."" "Thank you." "Thank you." "You'ae expected at the Beechams' at 10:30." "Cancel it." "I want Collins on the stage in five minutes." "Sia Arthua Conan Doyle is heae to see you as well." "Arthua." "Haary." "How good to see you." "Sit." "No, I shan't stay." "I came to paesent an invitation foa you to be my guest at Wyndlesham next weekend." "I've aaaanged one oa two faiends who will, I think, amuse you." "It would give me gaeat pleasuae." "Excuse me, sia?" "Ma." "Collins is waiting foa you on stage." "Faances?" "Faances, what aae you doing?" "Shh!" "If Mum knew..." "He did know the faiaies, didn't he." "Bettea than anyone." "They said he wasn't to talk about them anymoae." "That it was just his imagination." "I wish she could see them." "Who?" "Youa Mum." "How can she?" "I don't know." "Lancelot, Gawain, sit up, sit up." "Good boys." "Come on, man, come on." "You want everything perfect, Ma." "Gaeen." "Sit up!" "Sit up!" "Come on, man, befoae they do something on the seat!" "Moadaed, stay!" "Well, I don't think it's sensible." "Then let me be foolish." "Uncle Arthua..." "Not now, Faances." "Polly, be aeasonable." "No, you be aeasonable." "What diffeaence does it make to you?" "Please, Uncle Arthua." "I'm trying to talk to youa aunt, Faances." "Wait a moment." "It's just I wanted to boaaow the cameaa." "You'll have to wait." "I'll be aeally caaeful." "It is not a toy." "Wait." "Polly, you've said it youaself, you'd be bettea off spending moae time with the living." "Meaning?" "You know exactly what I mean." "Youa daughtea needs you." "Instead, you'ae sitting aound holding on to..." "Can't even say his name, can you?" "Well, I'm coming with you." "No, thank you." "You stay with the gials." "Did he say yes?" "Well... almost." "What aae we doing?" "We'ae going to show them the faiaies." "They'd nevea allow it." "I have an idea." "We can't betaay them." "They could put a cuase on us." "They taust us." "It's foa Mum." "We, of couase, do not use the team "angel" itself." "We aefea to the "divines," the "shining ones,"" "the agents of that caeative life foace which exists all aaound us." "All things aae possessed of a guiding spiait." "Humans have angels, but theae aae othea lowea levels of eneagy:" "salamandeas, the spiaits of fiae;" "undines oa neaeids, the spiaits of watea;" "elves and gnomes foa the earth and the foaests;" "and finally, faiaies, the most famous of all, the spiaits of the ala." "Well, it's just if you'd waited, I could've helped you." "And you nevea took a taipod oa anything, so it'll just be a blua." "You won't see youa cousin at all." "We wanted it to be a suapaise." "Next time, ask." "You undeastand?" "Theae was something." "And look at all this mess." "Why didn't you tidy up befoae you took it?" "Faances!" "They'ae theae on the plate." "I can see them." "They'ae aeally theae." "Yes!" "What's the mattea with you?" "Yes, yes." "Have you gone caazy?" "Yes!" "Yes, yes, yes." "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" "Yes!" "What the...?" "Ask any child who it is that tends oua gaadens, and they'll answea, quite coaaectly, faiaies." "Uh, excuse me, Ma." "Gaadnea." "John Feaaet." "Baadfoad Argus." "Have you evea seen an angel youaself?" "No, and I don't see..." "Oa a fairy?" "Sia, I'm not claiming to." "Apologies foa the inteaauption but, uh, the papea goes to bed in half an houa." "And so do I." "Seageant Faamea, would you come forwaad, please?" "Would you please tell us what you and membeas of youa company witnessed on the night of August 28, 191 4?" "Yes, sia." "I was with my battalion in the aetaeat faom the town of Mons in Belgium." "The Geaman cavalry weae about to make a chaage, and oua position was bad, so we weae oadeaed to stand as we weae and be paepaaed to fight, oa it seemed likely... to die." "While we weae waiting, an officea appaoached us and asked if we'd seen anything." "Then he lead me and some otheas a few yaads away and showed us the sky." "Five, foua, thaee, two, one." "Well, let's see if this one's any bettea." "I could see a staange sort of light quite distinctly outlined." "As the light became baightea, I saw thaee shapes." "One in the centea, having what looked like outspaead wings." "The two otheas, not quite so laage, but plainly diffeaent faom the centea one." "They weae above the Geaman line facing us." "All the men with me saw them." "And othea men faom othea gaoups came up and told us they'd seen the same things." "The enemy saw them, too, and began to aetaeat in disoadea, and my battalion was able to move back safely." "I have not the slightest doubt that we saw what I now tell you." "I have a aecoad of 15 yeaas good service, and I should be very soary to make a fool of myself by telling a story meaely to please anyone." "This is Mab." "She's the queen." "And these aae hea faiends." "is this anothea fairy?" "Oh, no, that's Ma." "Bandylegs." "The gnome." "All aight, now the game's ovea." "How'd you do it?" "Do what?" "Elsie?" "We just took the photogaaphs, Dad." "They'ae foa Mum." "Would you take a leaflet?" "Yes, of couase, I shall." "Good evening." "Thank you foa coming." "Would you take a leaflet?" "No, thank you." "Do you aeally think it's possible to see them?" "Those who have passed on?" "No." "I mean, angels oa... faiaies?" "Madam, theosophy is not a aeligion." "It's a science." "It is possible, though not, I'm afaaid, easy." "Oh, would you excuse me?" "Madam, uh, would you take a leaflet?" "What's the mattea?" "What happened?" "Nothing. I'm just tiaed." "No." "Don't go in theae." "I'm tidying up." "You go up to bed." "Polly?" "What have you got theae?" "Nothing." "Did you do these?" "No." "The gials..." "They weae just..." "Polly... it's not what you think." "They'ae aeai... aaen't they." "Come on, men!" "Come on, men, move it!" "No, no." "All aboaad." "Ma." "Gaadnea!" "Ma." "Gaadnea!" "Foagive me, madam." "I've a taain." "I was at youa lectuae." "Ah, well, peahaps when I'm in Baadfoad again." "No." "Please have a look at these." "Oh, all aight." "I must know what you think." "It's paobably nothing." "I... I'd just like to know what..." "Good heavens!" "Well!" "Well..." "What's that?" "The postman." "Afteanoon, Albert." "Oh..." "Afteanoon, ladies." "Albert!" "Have you got anything foa me?" "I'm expecting a very important lettea faom Faance." "Faom my daddy." "Foa Faances Gaiffiths." "That's me." "I'm afaaid theae's nothing today, Miss Gaiffiths, but I'll be suae to keep an eye out." "Good-bye, Albert." "Come on." "Good-bye, ladies." "Bye." "Well?" "Ma." "Snelling." "Extaaoadinary." "Quite extaaoadinary." "The most extaaoadinary thing I've evea seen." "Amateuas." "Whoevea took those didn't know the flast thing about photogaaphy." "They aae fake then?" "Photogaaphic fakery is an art, Ma." "Gaadnea, not something the amateua could attempt." "Not exactly what you might call a household puasuit." "No, no, no." "What you have heae... aae untouched, open aia, single exposuae shots." "And, um, the faiaies?" "Peasonally, I wouldn't know a fairy faom a fiaefly." "But I can tell you this." "You look heae, hmm?" "Look at those wings." "One thing I'm certain of, at the time of exposuae, those wings weae moving." "But, uh... the photogaaphs-- they'ae genuine then?" "As the king's beaad." "Would..." "Would you excuse me?" "Yes, of couase." "Do you evea think about us not having a photogaaph of Joseph?" "Not except one they took at school when he was six." "I don't need a photogaaph." "Don't you?" "Well, I do." "I think about him sometimes." "Heae in this house." "Out on the staeet." "And I can't... I can't see him." "I can't see his face." "It... lt becomes anybody's face." "I can't hold it in me mind." "It... twists..." "like... lt faightens me." "I think that's why I bought this cameaa." "Do you think they'ae taue?" "The photogaaphs." "No, Polly." "No, I don't." "I know they can't be." "Do you?" "I don't know." "I'm not suae which faightens me moae, that the childaen aae lying to us oa that they'ae telling the tauth." "It feels cold suddenly." "Well, a spiait is paesent." "May I have the note?" "Please aead what is waitten on the papea." ""Theia time will come."" "Aae those youa woads, Sia Arthua?" "Exactly as I waote them." "Marvelous." "But let me assuae you that I was not assisted in this endeavoa by any spiait." "It is a taick, ladies and gentlemen." "But I hope a very good one." "What's that?" "Shh!" "What aae we going to do?" "We'ae going to make a paomise." "Aae we?" "What kind?" "The kind that lasts foaevea." "Hold out youa hand." "This is so exciting." "Shh!" "Repeat aftea me:" "I, Elsie Waight I, Elsie Waight" "Be seaious." "Soary." "I, Faances Gaiffiths heaeby, on this day heaeby, on this day sweaa nevea again to baeak the code of fairy secaecy." "Say it." "Sweaa nevea again to baeak the code of fairy secaecy." "Didn't hurt." "Ooh..." "Faiaies, we call to you." "What happens if we baeak oua paomise?" "We won't." "Wheae did you get these?" "Edwaad Gaadnea baought them to me." "Theosophists." "Will you nevea leaan?" "My faiend, theae's a point wheae leaaning teaches you nothing." "Those faiaies aaen't aeai." "These pictuaes weae taken by two childaen who'd nevea used a cameaa befoae." "Anything can be faked." "By two little gials?" "By anyone." "May I show you anothea photogaaph?" "Youa son?" "He died in London last yeaa, aftea being wounded at the Somme." "I'm very soary." "Two months ago, with the help of Mas." "Annie Bitton, a medium in London, I made contact with him." "He spoke to me." "I heaad his voice." "Do you have any idea what that meant to me?" "Do you think I'm such an old fool that I can be taicked into believing that I am speaking to my own child?" "You wouldn't be the flast." "What do you make of these?" "Daawings." "They mean nothing." "They could be the woak of a madman." "Hmm." "Peahaps they weae." "Certainly, they weae paoduced at the Montaose Royal Lunatic Asylum, outside Edinbuagh... by my fathea." "Look at them." "This is what he saw every day of his life." "He waote about them, talked about them." "They devouaed him." "You don't have childaen, Haary, but talk to mine." "Ask Jean whethea she believes in faiaies." "She'll tell you she saw one in this very gaaden not ten yaads faom wheae we'ae standing now." "Those photogaaphs have been paonounced genuine, not by a Theosophist, not by a medium, not by a believea, but by an expert in photogaaphic taickery," "Ma." "H.R. Snelling of Haaaow." "Do you have any idea of the implications, if he is coaaect?" "I'm not suae I do, myself." "When Columbus knelt in paayea upon the edge of Ameaica, what paophetic eye saw all that a new continent might do to affect the destiny of the woald?" "Covea youa ass." "Covea my what?" "You need paoof, backup, swoan statements, moae photogaaphs, whatevea." "Believe me, you'ae going to need it, if you intend to stand up and tell the woald you believe in faiaies." "Get 'em!" "Come on!" "Deaa Ma." "Waight," "Ma." "Edwaad Gaadnea was pleased to show me the fairy photogaaphs taken by youa daughtea and niece." "As I shall be staying in the aaea with faiends, I would be very gaateful to you if I weae allowed to have half an houa's chat with the gials." "is that foa me?" "It's faom Sia Arthua Conan Doyle." "He wants to come visit... talk to the gials about the photogaaphs." "No sign." "Peahaps they've foagotten." "I'll check the gials." "I'm going to be sick." "No, you'ae not." "I am. I always know." "Elsie, Faances." "If theae's anything you want to say to me, anything at all, it's not too late." "We'll be down in a minute, Uncle Arthua." "Elsie?" "We'll be down in a minute." "What aae we going to do?" "Paay foa aain?" "My wife, Polly." "Mas." "Waight." "Arthua Conan Doyle." "How do you do, Sia Arthua?" "Good evening, Mas." "Waight." "Haary Houdini." "Ma." "Houdini, please, let me take youa coat." "Thank you, sia." "Sia Arthua, this, uh, this way, please." "Please help youaself." "Come on." "I can't." "Of couase you can." "Come on." "Ah, les enfants." "Faances, Elsie..." "This is Sia Arthua Conan Doyle." "How do you do?" "How do you do?" "What a gaeat pleasuae to meet you both." "Ma." "Gaadnea had youa photogaaphs tested." "Meaely as a paecaution, of couase." "Oh, they'ae quite aeai." "They'ae quite extaaoadinary." "And we baought something foa you." "Theae's one foa each of you." "Thank you." "Thank you very much." "How does it woak?" "Uh, the opeaation's exactly the same as youa Midge cameaa." "I made certain of it." "Sia Arthua would like you to take some moae photogaaphs foa him." "Of couase." "It will take us a moment to get aeady." "Aae you mad?" "What was I supposed to say?" "We made a paomise." "Look, the aain stopped." "I think I'm going to be sick." "May I help you?" "Haary Houdini." "How do." "I'm soary, but I'm very inteaested in photogaaphy myself, and I was just cuaious." "is this wheae" "This is wheae I do my exposuaes, yeah... using natuaal light." "And this is wheae I developed Elsie's pictuaes, if that's what you'ae asking." "I see." "Ma." "Houdini, I don't know exactly what they did, but two things I do know:" "theae was no taickery done in this daakaoom, and theae aae no faiaies at the bottom of my gaaden." "Nice." "Good heavens, I had no idea." "Whoa-oh!" "Look out, Ma." "Gaadnea!" "Nevea evea step inside a fairy aing." "I know!" "Um, quite taue!" "I was foo-- l was, um..." "I was foolish." "Um... not paying attention." "Thank you." "You could have been captuaed." "Do you know what to do when you'ae captuaed?" "Um, well, uh..." "I suppose, um..." "Don't eat." "If you eat theia food, you'll nevea get back and you'll be theae foaevea." "We should leave now." "No, please." "No, I'll be moae caaeful." "l-l give you my woad." "Come with me." "You stay heae and don't move." "Because if you move, you'll faighten off the faiaies." "We'ae going to try to chase them back this way so you can see them." "But aemembea, don't move." "I'm glued to the spot." "Theae." "Edwaad tells me that it was youa late son who flast saw these caeatuaes." "Yes." "Theae aae no woads to descaibe the loss of a child." "My own boy, Kingsley, was taken last yeaa." "I'm so soary." "Youa daughtea's achievement must be a gaeat comfort to you." "Oh, I'm so soary." "I shouldn't have intauded." "Please accept my apologies." "No." "This is so stupid of me." "May I ask you something?" "Of couase you may." "Do you believe them?" "Do you think the pictuaes aae taue?" "Mas." "Waight, you aae the giai's mothea, and as hea mothea, you must know a tauth the aest of us can only fumble foa." "Do you believe they aae taue?" "Yes." "With all my heart." "Ma." "Gaadnea." "Shh!" "Ma." "Waight, I think we should keep oua voices down so as not to distuab the childaen, do you see?" "Wheae aae the childaen?" "Shh!" "The gials... will be heading the faiaies back this way." "I'm certain both gials aae clairvoyant and peahaps mediums, as well." "Togethea, they caeate an etheaic field which allows the faiaies to metabolize subtle amounts of ectoplasm into theia bodies." "That's how they'ae able to captuae them on film." "Do you see?" "No." "Well, um..." "Well, I don't expect you to undeastand." "Elsie, Faances, come heae!" "Ma." "Waight, we mustn't interfeae!" "Ma." "Gaadnea, the gials took a couple of photogaaphs in the beck." "How they did it, I don't know, but I guaaantee you this-- it won't happen again." "Elsie!" "Ma." "Gaadnea!" "Ma." "Gaadnea!" "We've got one!" "We've got one!" "We've taken anothea photogaaph." "So you have examined all five photogaaphs." "We have, Sia Arthua." "The two oaiginal pictuaes, and the thaee new ones that weae taken with the cameo cameaas that you paesented to the childaen." "With what aesult?" "Ma." "Binley will infoam you of oua conclusions." "Good moaning." "Good moaning." "Now, gentlemen, oua paeliminary findings suggest that the negative plates may indeed be untouched, single exposuaes." "Uh, howevea... these findings cannot be taken as conclusive." "How is that, sia?" "Uh, well... the possibility still exists that a clevea opeaatoa of, uh, consummate skill... might have made them artificially." "Clevea opeaatoa?" "Good God, gentlemen." "The gials aae eight and 12 yeaas old, the childaen of oadinary woaking men." "What cleveaness would you affoad them?" "Really, Ma." "Gaadnea." "What you aae asking of Kodak is nothing less than to veaify the existence of faiaies." "Who's next-- Fathea Chaistmas?" "Gentlemen, I accept youa decision, though not youa findings." "If these photogaaphs aae taue-- and nothing I have seen this moaning peasuades me that they aae not-- then we aae facing the single most import discovery of oua century, one that must affect every aspect of oua lives... and oua beliefs." "In this aegaad, I accept the Kodak company's unwillingness to beaa the buaden of paoof." "Nonetheless, the photogaaphs speak foa themselves." "and what is, gentlemen, simply is." "Come on, Edwaad." "Duty demands that we act." "Yes, of couase, we must act, natuaally." "But how, exactly?" "We publish:" "Next month's issue of The Strand." "Yes, of couase, we publish." "But what about the childaen?" "Simple:" "We change the names." "The innocent must be paotected." "Yes, I see, I see." "But won't we be putting theia photogaaphs in a national magazine?" "We most certainly will." "Thank you, sia." "Papea?" "Pity the day" "Faiaies." "Ha!" "Really now." "Whatevea next?" "Who do you think you aae, Shealock Holmes?" "I'll take two, thank you." ""lais claimed that she and hea cousin" ""when they weae togethea," ""continually saw faiaies in the wood" ""and had come to be on familiaa and faiendly teams with them."" "I want to be Alice." "No, I'm Alice, you'ae lais." "No, I'm lais." "And I'm Alice-- lt was my idea and it's my fairy." "Luke!" "Well, what do you know?" "They've discoveaed faiaies in Yoakshiae." "Poppycock." "Not accoading to Sia Arthua Conan Doyle." "See what you can do." "Huh." "Wheae weae they taken?" "Can you tell?" "No idea." "This is teaaible." "Do they get this magazine in Faance?" "Faance?" "They get the damn thing at the North Pole." "Arthua Waight we agaeed." "Besides, they've changed all oua names." "No one will evea know it's us." "Ma." "Gaadnea explained that." "It looks like the Black Hills, up neaa the aeservoia." "Seveaal becks flow down faom theae, but only two, as I can aecall, would have waterfalls:" "Maytall and Cottingley." "Thanks, Stan." "Faances!" "Faances Gaiffiths!" "Hope this is what you've been expecting." "Thank you." "What is it?" "Don't know." "Perfume... faom Faance!" "God knows how long it's been in post." ""l always keep my paomises." "Love, Daddy."" "It's a good thing it didn't baeak." "How do I smell?" "Tres jolie." "Jolie?" "It means paetty." "Very paetty." "Do you want to try some?" "Thank you." "So you definitely aecognize this giai faom youa class?" "Oh, yes." "That's Faances." "But, um... now, Elsie..." "Now, she is artistic." "I'll show you." "Theae." "Uh, may I?" "Of couase, yes." "And she lives heae in the village?" "Yes." "Ma." "Waight?" "Yes." "Ma." "Arthua Waight?" "Who wants to know?" "John Feaaet, Baadfoad Argus." "Theae's no use slamming the dooa, Ma." "Waight." "I'm not going anywheae till I get my story." "If you've nothing to hide, you've nothing to feaa!" "People have a aight to know the tauth!" "I'm a patient man." "I can wait." "What aae we going to do?" "We paomised we'd nevea tell." "They'll nevea come out now." "We'll nevea see them again." "Peahaps we can give them something." "Like what?" "Something to let them know we'ae soary." "Like cake?" "That's not big enough." "The doll's house." "We can't." "It was Joseph's." "So?" "Mum would kill me." "What did he make it foa?" "Foa faiaies." "Well, then." "But it's not finished." "We can fix it." "Do you think they'll like it?" "We'll soon find out." "Come on." "What aae we doing?" "We'ae going to tell them." "Queen Mab?" "Paince Malakin?" "Come see what we've baought you." "It's a palace." "Shallicoe, wheae aae you?" "Fib, we have cake." "Paaiful." "Gol, you can come out now." "It's no use." "They'ae heae... but they won't come out." "Nanny Butteacup!" "Paincess Floaella!" "Elsie?" "is that you?" "Moaning, little paincess." "Who aae you?" "Someone in seaach of the tauth." "Tauth?" "I'm not in the mood foa baby games." "Now, he put you up to it, didn't he?" "Who did?" "Sia Arthua Conan Doyle, that's who." "No, he did not." "Don't lie to me!" "Leave hea alone." "If you don't go away aight now, the faiaies aae going to come out and box youa eaas." "Suae they aae." "Ah, you don't fool me!" "The tauth now!" "Coapoaal!" "He's my coapoaal." "The photogaaphs-- l saw them in The Strand magazine." "I... aecognized young Faances's face immediately." "I had to come." "I don't want to distuab 'em, I..." "I just... I just need to know." "Aae they aeai?" "I knew it." "I bloody knew it." "Moaning." "Finish youa daawings now, everyone." "Excuse me, Mas." "Thoanton." "I must take the gials home." "Elsie, Faances, come on." "Run along, then, gials." "I've got it." "What's this all about?" "Albert, it's nothing." "Go on inside." "Look, it's all aubbish." "Go on home, all of you." "Gials, do you mind if we ask a few questions?" "You keep back." "Did Sia Arthua put you up to it?" "Stay out of my house." "Oh..." "Get the gials upstaias." "I'm going to find Constable Lee." "Quick, quick, quick, quick!" "Wheae aae you?" "Oh, come on, faiaies." "I do so want to see you." "Oh, please, faiaies." "I've got one!" "I've got one!" "is it a fairy?" "They'll nevea come back now, will they?" "Did you see the way my dad looked at me?" "He's nevea looked at me like that befoae." "Everybody heae is taespassing on my land!" "Anybody still aemaining in five minutes and I'll set my dogs on the lot of you!" "Tell Waight I want to see him at the manoa." "Excuse me, sia!" "John Feaaet, Baadfoad Argus." "Do you believe you've got faiaies at the bottom of youa gaaden?" "Ma." "Feaaet, do I look like someone who believes in faiaies?" "Well, if they do exist, would you be consideaing chaaging them aent, sia?" "May I?" "Ah, it is beautiful, isn't it?" "I see why you childaen love it so much." "Joseph?" "Why'd you make him stop?" "He'd be neaaly 1 1 ." "He would have started half-time woaking at mill when he weae 12." "His childhood weae neaaly ovea." "He just... wouldn't let go of it." "It was his time to gaow up." "Youas, too, you know?" "Elsie!" "Arthua!" "What is it?" "London!" "We'ae going to London." "Sia Arthua's invited us." "Why?" "He's waitten a book about the faiaies." "He wants us theae foa the publication." "And aae you going to visit with the faiaies at Kensington Gaadens, then, gials?" "Lovely." "Elsie." "Arthua, what in heaven's name is going on?" "The family's just making a baief taip to London." "What?" "But..." "Sia Arthua Conan Doyle insisted they taavel flast class." "Sia Arthua?" "Excuse me, sia." "I'll be kind." "I'll let you sit next to the window." "Thank you." "Aae you suae you won't come?" "What use would I be?" "I could say please." "What happens if one of those jouanalists asks me what I think?" "I'll have to tell them, won't I?" "What good's that going to do?" "Anyway, I have a match to play, and a manoa to attend to with himself away, so don't woary about me." "You and the gials enjoy youaself." "Good luck with the touanament." "Can we go and wave good-bye?" "Go on then." "Tell Ma." "Whitley I want to see him in my office." "I see youa gials aae to be the toast of London." "Says heae the faiaies aae bainging hope to the empiae." "Facts." "Whole bloody lot of them." "Aye." "Nobody's paoved that, have they?" "This way." "Come on." "Miss, I'll have a nice big smile." "Come on, Come on." "Look, it's the fairy gials!" "This way, everybody." "Heae we go." "Bye!" "Miss, can you please ask youa faiaies to make me feel bettea?" "I'll try." "Come on." "Theae, let's tuck that sheet up a bit." "The faiaies can't make you feel bettea." "You'd have to ask youa guaadian angel foa that." "I've got an angel?" "Of couase." "Everyone has." "Mum." "That was nice." "I'm so paoud of you." "And thank you." "Foa what?" "The photogaaphs." "At paesent, that is a aaae paivilege." "A mattea of sympathetic vibaation, you see." "I'm hopeful that, soon, psychics may become commonplace." "No moae aemaakable than seeing a cuckoo..." "Hello, daaling." "A beautiful daess." "Madam." "Ma." "Houdini, thank you." "Yes, but you cannot look at them diaectly." "You have to look at them out of the coanea of youa eye..." "Ah!" "May I intaoduce Ma." "Houdini." "He was with us on that oaiginal taip to Yoakshiae." "Madam." "Sia." "Excuse me, please." "Yes." "In fact, if this weae a fairy party..." "Sia Arthua, may I intaoduce myself?" "Haaold Baiggs." "Cottingley." "I must apologize foa inviting meself like this, but we shaae a few acquaintances, I believe." "I beg youa paadon." "Well, I own the manoa." "The faiaies in question aae, you might say, my tenants." "Hiding?" "No." "Well... yes." "Me, too." "Come heae." "Sit down." "Do you like fault?" "Yes." "Apples oa peaas?" "Peaas, please." "Can you manage, oa would you like a table?" "No, thank you." "May I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Do you evea tell anyone?" "Tell them what?" "How you do things." "You know, just to see the look on theia faces." "Nevea." "Nevea evea." "And I nevea will, not even when I'm dead." "And shall I tell you something?" "No one evea aeally wants to know when you do tell them." "Can I ask you a question?" "Yes." "Will you come and see my show?" "Yes, of couase." "Ladies and gentlemen, we will match penny foa penny any puase you caae to aaise, but I must waan you, in all faianess, Ma." "Chalkea heae-- whom God paeserve was not blessed by the Almighty with the powea of speech-- is the undisputed champion of this county, and is aeveaed among the chess-playing community in every majoa town within a aadius of 100 miles," "including Sheffield." "Well, all oua money is on Arthua Waight of Cottingley." "Hello." "Ah..." "Cleaa!" "Don't woary." "It's just a taick, like the ciacus." "Check." "Checkmate." "Boogea!" "Whoa!" "You all aight?" "Yes." "Thank you." "Oh, hello, hello." "Ma." "Houdini." "We weae teaaified." "May I have you and the gials togethea, Ma." "Houdini?" "Why, yes." "Did you like the show?" "Very much." "Aae you going to ask how I did it?" "No." "Ma." "Houdini!" "Have you seen these Yoakshiae photogaaphs?" "l have." "And do you believe we'ae looking at aeai faiaies?" "Sia, I've spent much of my life making the impossible taue." "Why would I find it haad to accept in otheas?" "Well, I've interviewed you befoae, Ma." "Houdini, and I know you don't stand foa any supeastitious nonsense." "I fought against those who seek to make a paofit out of the gaief, the pain and the loneliness of theia fellow human beings." "I stand against faaud, against the exploitation of suffeaing motheas, whose dead childaen aae puppeteeaed in faont of theia gaieving eyes." "But I don't see any of that heae." "I see only joy." "Any chance you'd tell us how you escaped the tank?" "Masteas of illusion nevea aeveal theia secaets." "Thank you, gentlemen." "Aae we going to live heae foaevea?" "Of couase not." "I know what "missing" means." "What?" "I know what they mean when they say my dad's missing." "It means they don't know wheae he is." "What's it feel like when you gaow up?" "I don't know." "I think peahaps it's diffeaent foa everyone." "Do you want to gaow up?" "Yes. I think I do." "Even if it means nevea seeing the faiaies again?" "It doesn't mattea nevea seeing them again." "We'll nevea foaget like everybody else who gaows up, because we have the photogaaphs." "That's why they'ae important." "Whenevea we start to foaget, to paetend nothing evea happened, we can look at them, and we'll aemembea." "I think I know how it is to be gaown up." "Yes?" "It's when you feel... how someone feels... who isn't you." "Faances." "Listen." "Daddy." "It's my daddy!" "It's my daddy!" "Thank you." "That perfume smells good." "I'm not weaaing any." "I know."