 In the weird circle, in this cave by the restless sea, we are met to call from out the past stories, strange and weird. Bellkeeper, hold the bell, so all may know we are gathered again in the weird circle. Past phantoms of a world gone by speak again the immortal tale, the executioner. Monastery gardens are in fine condition, Brother Leo. You have done well with them. Thank you, Reverend Father Abbott. There's the Marquis de la Garnier driving up. He's buried the vault. Comes here every day to our chapel. You didn't wait. I was welcome. Ah, Marquis, old friend. Another lovely day, is it not? And then another night, Abbott. Another night of haunting dreams. Thanks, Bob. It's cool, my son. Peace. How can I find peace? A poor, tormented soul. He built this monastery, didn't he? Yes, in memory of the Ganeth family. And he comes here every day to pray for their souls? No, Brother Leo, to pray for his own soul. But why, Father? He's loved by all the people of this town for his good works? Yes, my son, and he's honored in all Spain. I wonder about him so often. His face is always sad. His eyes are tragic. His has been a sad and incredibly sad life, my son. In the year since I came here, I've never seen him smile. No. No, he's never smiled since. Sit here, Father, under the trees and tell me about him. Why do the townsfolk call so rich and so great a man, Del Verduco? An executioner. I heard them do so many times, but they say it is a title of honor. Why? I think it's right that you should know his story. You will be serving the family at the castle in future years, and you should have an understanding of the tragedy that befell them. Was it longer ago, sir? Yes, some thirty years ago, when I was a young priest like yourself. How to begin. Well, the Marquis Juan de la Ganeth, father of the man you know, was a Grandie of Spain. His family, one of the oldest and proudest in the land. The old man was a fanatic, a patriot devoted to his people, the citizens of this town of Mender. There was peace in our land until that upstart, bone apart, thought he would own all Europe. Italy, Austria and the Lowlands fell, and then the invaders entered Spain. Because the old Marquis was suspected of plotting with the English against them, a French battalion was stationed here at Mender. They were tolerated with silent hatred. Meanwhile, the Marquis made plans which were to take effect on the night of the Feast of St. James. A ball was given at the castle to which the French officers were invited, in which they all attended. Unarmed, of course. No thought of danger, except perhaps the loss of a heart to some lovely senorita. The vent de France was divine. You are grace itself, senorita. You are flattery personified. Nonsense, Carlos, a man can be handsome even if he is French. Ah, these officers, and I shan't let them spoil this evening for me. Oh, it is a lovely party, isn't it? The music is really... Close the door, Vanito. I would have quieted. See, Father? Good. The hour is near at hand for our triumph over these invaders. I sent for you my sons to make sure all was in readiness. Vanito, the signal fire is built? Yes, Father. And we had news from the town. Our people are plying the French with wine and making holiday until the beacon fire is lit. And then, death, not one will escape. That is my plan. English ships are waiting off the coast at this very moment. The English fleet? Oh, I see. That old iron cellar who came here was really a spy. Yes, my boy, a clever spy from the Ministry in London. Then we shall soon be rid of this puppet king, the Corsican Bonaparte, set up. Why have you left our guests, Marquita? Oh, Juan, you and our sons should join them, or they may suspect. It's nearly supper time, and you have said that when the ladies were all in the cellar and the men gathered in the banquet hall, you'd... Oh, I'm so afraid, Juan. Afraid for you, Felipe, darling, and for you, Vanito, my eldest born. Nonsense, Mamma Mia, there is no danger for us. Nevertheless, I fear something may go wrong. I tremble at the thought of what this night may bring. This night will bring freedom from the invaders, restoration for our king. And you tremble? Are you not a true daughter of Spain? Yes, my husband. Then we will speak no more of fear. Vanito, are you sure that every French officer is here tonight? Yes, Father, dancing with carefree gaiety. Foolish flies that will die in this old spider's web. The men's servants know what they must do. Each one is armed, and each will deal with the Frenchman. They do not leave their sides. They must be silent and swift. I hold you when Nito is responsible for the death of the commandant, Victor Marchand. Oh, poor lad. He has such charming manners. I've just seen him walk out on the terrace with our Clara. What insolence. Ever since he came to the town, my sister Clara's cast wistful eyes at him. She seems to admire his undoubted good looks. Small wonder if he's madly in love with her. Clara is so beautiful. What a pair they make dancing together. Such talk revolts me. My daughter and this riff-raff officer of our enemy. Vanito, fetch her to me at once. Yes, Father. Come, Marquesa. We will join our guests. Yes, Father. Oh, the moon is lovely out here on the terrace. See how it shines on the sea way down there at the foot of the crags? Yes, look way out there. Those white things, they look like sails. Oh, nonsense. They're seagulls. They nest in those cliffs. Oh, and I thought it might be my ship coming in. Isn't the air sweet? Mimosa and orange blossoms, Donna Clara. Yes, orange blossoms come and down. And cypress trees. The night is cool. It was hot down there today in the little town of yours. I was tired of military regulations and duties. Why, Victor Marchand, you were weary of serving your great Napoleon. Shame. I would die fighting for my Emperor. But this business of being a policeman is hard. You all hate us French, so... We Spaniards do not hate all Frenchmen. Oh, Clara, you are so beautiful. I do love you so. Is there any chance that you would marry me? In other days. In other circumstances. Who knows? But there is no hope, Victor, here and now. You are my enemy. I am your adoring slave. But I am a fool to dream. You are the bloomed out of Spain while my father is a grocer of Paris. A grocer of Paris? Is that a title of rank? Yes, a rank of file, my beautiful princess. Wait. Look down below. I gave orders for all lights in the town to be out at curfew. And yet, this strikes me that there are fair number of gleaming here and there. Oh, it's only the moonlight on the bayonets of your own man. Well, it's certainly silent enough. I don't know why I should feel uneasy. Your father, the Marquis, is the soul of courtesy. And yet, I keep asking myself, why? Why should he give this dance for the officers of his enemy? Well, you're imagining things. My father is the friendliest of men. All of us here are unarmed. I think I should order them to leave now. Victor, forget these morbid fancies. Of what are you afraid of me? Yes, senorita. I am afraid of you. Oh, my lovely wonder. Clara, where are you? Oh, Juanito, I'm right here by the balustrade with commandant Marchand. Father wants you, sister. Lovely evening, commandant. Beautiful, senorita. Shall I take you by it, Donna Clara? Thank you, commandant. I shall escort my sister. Oh, Juanito, it's so cool out here. Wait a while. This is not the time for you to be on the terrace, Clara. Oh, the time. Oh, come with us, commandant. Father wishes to see you alone, Clara. But I... Perhaps it would be better if you waited here, commandant, in the moonlight. I shall be right back to relieve your loneliness. As you say, senorita. A bientôt, Donna Clara. Adios, Victor. Is that you, commandant Victor? Yes, what is it? I'm lucky to find you, sir. Those beggars down there are creeping about like worms. I knew I saw those lights. So by your leave I came up the cliff-bath to find you. Come, climb up here over the balustrade. Wait. So, now go on, ma'am. Well, sir, you know that they have treated us like scum. But since sundown tonight they are sticking to us like leeches, saying it's the Feast of St. James, and we ought all to be friends. Very strange. Suspicious, sir. I say to myself, there is something up. They mean us no good. Then on my way here I see a pile of logs and kindling, sir, over that pointy under. Well? Then just now as I hurried down quiet as I could, I saw a man come out of the castle with a torch and head straight for the bonfire. A bonfire? A signal? I thought so. Look over there on the ocean, there on the moonlight, where there are ships, the sails of ships. It must be the English fleet. He's lit the signal. Look, it's flaring up to the sky. Come on, Dad. I'm shot. I'm done for. That shot was meant for you. Save yourself, sir. Don't leave the emperor. My officers, where are they? What's the word, butcher? Victor! Victor! Victor! My brothers are coming to kill you. But my fellow officers, I must help them. Let me by. You can do them no good now. Killed or killed? Yes, Victor, every Frenchman. So save yourself. Take the left path at the foot of the cliff. And my brother's pony. But go, Victor, hurry! Hurry! What are you doing here? Oh, I... Where's the commander? I tried to stop him when he... I held him as long as I could, but he pushed past me and left the wall. I'll get him. No, no! He went that way to the right. Father! Father! What did he say? Follow him. Not one of them must leave. Let just one of them leave, dear lord. Oh, Victor. My Victor. Yes, my son. Victor Marchand escaped. And as I found out afterwards, rode straight to the headquarters of the French general and told him the fate of his battalion. That is all I know of the treacherous attack, mon général. My men were stabbed to death and shot down my cattle. The blame is all mine. I put my life in your hands. Commander Marchand, you are not answerable for the Spaniard's crime. And unless the Marshal decides otherwise, I acquit you. But when the Emperor comes to hear of it... The Emperor? He will want you shot. But we shall see. Now, we will say no more about this, except to plan a revenge that will strike proper terror into this godforsaken country where they carry on war like savages. I shall order out a whole regiment, a detachment of cavalry and a convoy of artillery. We shall tell our soldiers the fate of their comrades and their rage will do the rest. At all, stop! Reverend Abbott, I can imagine the horrible vengeance they brought to the countryside. Yes, my son. Every village they passed was burnt and the inhabitants decimated. Didn't the English land soldiers to help? No, brother Leo. It seems they were only artillery transports that appeared that night. And so the townsmen of Mende were left without assistance and soon found themselves surrounded by French troops. Say loss! Say loss! Citizens, dogs of Mende, for your savage crime against innocent men, your town will be given over to the flame, your population to the saw. One moment, General. And who are you, sir? I am the Marquis of Legenda, a military lord of this province. I alone take the blame for the slaying of the French garrison. Nay, Marquis. I was with you. I speak for these noble friends of mine. Do I not? Yes! Then, General, we of the castle offer to give ourselves if we could thus spare our town from pillage and fire. Every soul in the castle, from myself to my lowest servant in exchange for the lives of my townsfolk. No, that sounds reasonable. There will be a heavy tribute, Laveit, however. We will hold your wealthiest citizens hostage to guarantee payment. Commit on, Marchand. Take every precaution for the safety of the troops. Bivouac them. No more billeting with his swine. I shall now take residence in the castle. I'll be like a new family and all their household bound and placed so they can see me enter as their conqueror. And you, Reverend Father, during this time, where were you? Hild prisoner is hostage. I thought at any moment that though innocent, I should be shot. I soon heard that the general had ordered gibbets erected at the castle and had sent for the public hangman. I learned later of the Marquis' last appeal to the general who had established headquarters at the castle. What is it now, gunning? It is I, Victor Marchand. Oh, you. Oui, mon général. The Marquis has a request to make of you and I could not refuse to bring him to you. Let him enter. So, you have a request, Marquis. Yes, General. I have seen the gallows erected. Will you not spare us the shame of this punishment? I entreat you to have us beheaded. Granted. Further, I beg for the consolation of religion and that we especially, my wife, may be unbound. I give my word we shall not escape. All that I permit. But, Marchand, you are responsible for them. Autantu, mon général. And lastly, I offer you all I possess if you will spare my youngest son, Manuel. He is only eight years old. He knew nothing of this. Really? Wait. I understand what you mean by this last request. To hand down your name to posterity. Very good. You shall do so. I will give your fortune and his life to any one of your sons who will play executioner to you and the rest of your brutes. Such a thing cannot be. Yes. Let him hand down your name to posterity. But wherever it is mentioned, all Spain shall remember his parasite and despise him for it. General, in the name of my three sons, I absolutely refuse this infamous offer. No, no, no. Not so fast, Marquis. You have intrigued me by your request. I am reconsidering my former kindness toward Menda. It rather pleases me to be the instrument, shall we say, whereby an old Spanish family is carried on. We French love titles. Our employers taught us their value. So here is my final word, and you really should like it. Safety and well-being for Menda and its citizens provided you agreed to die. I have so agreed. Wait, wait. Provided you agreed to die by the hand of one of your own sons who shall, by acting as executioner to his family, gain your title and estate. Not one of them will consent. No, not even when they hear that unless one of them performs this friendly family service, all Menda shall be burned to the ground and every one of the citizens slaughter. You are Satan incarnate. No, no, no. But I do think Satan is laughing at your predicament. Enough. We would talk no more about it. Your fortune and his life to any one of your brats who will do this executioner's office. Take them away, Marchand. Unbind the noble family, but guard them well. Now you will pardon me, Marquis. My dinner is ready. I was sent for and taken to the castle. There under French guard sat the Marquis with her sons and her daughter tied and gilded chairs. The serving men stood with bound hands. Victor Marchand returned with the Marquis. They all looked up at him, but there was no fear in their eyes. All I could see was profound regret that their plan had failed so completely. Victor Marchand gave orders that they should be unbound and he himself untied the cords that bound flowers on. Dollar flower, my darling. There was nothing I could do. But the general, Victor, what did he say? His verdict is too cold to speak aloud. Let me whisper it to you and you can then help your father for he will need your help. Now come with me. One. One. One, there is hope for us, isn't there? The priest is here and they have taken the cords from our wrist. One of my brothers. Oh, Victor, no. No! Father. Oh, Father. Bid one eater. Swear to obey the command you shall give him. And we shall be content. Clara, my Clara. Marquis, you submit to the general's ruling? I have no choice, commandant. Then I shall dismiss the guard. I shall. You will take these sobatous to their fate and await me on the towers. We are alone now, my husband. What is this order you are to give to one eater? What is the general's ruling? The town and its inhabitants are to be destroyed unless we die. I know, I know. Unless we are beheaded by the hand of one of our sons. One of my sons? Santa Maria, no. And now you know the command I must give. And I give it to you, Juanito. Father. No, you cannot. Dear Juanito, you must not fail us. Do not compel us to submit to the fateful touch of the common hangman. At your hands, we will not fear to die. No. Think of Mendo, Juanito. The town we have loved since we were born. Mendo and Flames and all its people are people dead while they are our friends. You can't sacrifice them to your own feelings. Juanito, my darling, my first born child, you will consent, I know. Mother, you ask this? You? My mother? Since the day you were born, you have never failed me, Juanito. You are a true legunia. I... I refuse to be condemned to live. Juanito, I command you. No. No, I... I can't do it. And it be that you lack the fortitude of a Spaniard and true responsibility to your people, my son. Do you mean to keep us on our knees? What right have you to think of your own life and your own sufferings? Is this my son, madam? He has consented. Am I right, Juanito? Oh... Mother, I'm here. During the next tragic hour, I did what I could to give them spiritual consolation and prepare their souls for life eternal. The general had ordered that the principal citizens of Menda be brought to the terrace where stood the block, the blade of its scimitar littering in the sun. Then suddenly in the anti-room where the Marquis and his family were preparing for the ordeal, the general appeared. They have dined and whined, so let us get this business over with. Bring the executioner like Agneth to the block. Instruct him in his family duties. The crowd on the terrace is waiting impatient. Our time has come, Juanito. Be merciful to my lack of courage. Take me first. Clara, my beloved, the general will grant you your life if you will consent to marry me. Oh, Victor, Victor. There is no love without honor. And my duty is to my family. Our love was a might have been. Adios, Victor. And now, Juanito, dear brother, pucks for this comb. I am ready. Dear sister, let Philippe go with you. Juanito, my brother, I have always loved you and honored you, but never more than now. Farewell. God keep you both. Farewell, big brother. You'll tell me what I must do. Will it hurt very much? Manuel. Little Manuel, you're so young to die or you're crying. I'm not afraid being of you for Juanito. Pray for me, little brother. Farewell. We shall meet, my dear little beloved son. Your mother is proud of you. Mother? My mother? Give me your hand, my son. You do great honor to our name. Let us walk together to our fate. Lean on Father Miguel, my son. He will give you courage from heaven. Let me embrace you. And with my kiss proclaimed, Spaniard, I have given my son a father's blessing. The new Marquis de Legonier may strike without fear. He is beyond reproach. Dear sirre, calamatata, sirre, misirale, deismaga, berecquium, tena, donadil, mania, My daily prayers are for that heroic soul who for thirty long years has waited for the day when he may join the shades that never cease to haunt him. From the time worn pages of the past, we have brought you the story, The Executioner, Bell Keeper, Toll the Bell.