Andrew takes his wife Ellen to a house that he has his heart set on renting.  It’s just what he has been wanting . . . 200 years old, on the water.  He doesn’t even know if it is for rent, but has no reservation about trying the front door — locked!  Realizing his error in judgment, he tries a window instead.  Yep, they climb right in.

All of the furniture is covered with sheets.  Ellen notices a portrait of Captain Michael Klaussen (1860-1902).  Andrew is momentarily hypnotized by the picture.  He snaps out of it and tells Ellen they have to rent this place!

They go to a real estate office, but the agent doesn’t want to rent it to them.  He quotes a price of $500/mo ($4,500 today) to discourage them.  Andrew says he is a pretty good architect and knows that figure is ridiculous.  Then he rents it.  That’ll show him.

They go back to the house and start looking around.  Ellen opens some trunks and gets a peek at the Captain’s Log (hee-hee).  Andrew goes into a light trance and says, “Get away from there” and “you have no right to look” and “ignore that scrimshaw of me junk — it must be the salt water.”  Ellen is concerned, but Andrew snaps out of it and doesn’t remember the incident.

Later, Ellen finds the diary of Elsbeth Klaussen.   It mentions that Michael has gone hunting.  Another day he is working in the field and his bad leg starts causing him to limp.   He has also been showing signs of being jealous of his old friend Gideon.

Andrew grabs her — literally — he is kind of a grabby guy. ^[1]  He wants to explore the rest of the house.  As they are coming down the stairs, Andrew suddenly gets a stabbing pain in his leg.  The next day, he is badly limping.

He becomes abusive to Ellen.  He even accuses her of having an affair with his business partner Bill.  During his ranting, he calls her Elsbeth.  Ellen wants to move out, but Andrew insists they will stay.

Ellen goes to see the Real Estate agent.  He tells her the house was built by Klaussen’s father in 1801, meaning Mr. Big Shot architect was off by 40 years.   Wait, let’s say Klaussen Sr was 30 when he built the house.  That means he was almost 90 when Klaussen Jr was born in 1860.  Way to go, Klaussen Sr!

Sadly, Klaussen Jr. was a slave-driver. Well, not literally a slave-driver, because slavery was over.  So relative to an actual slave-driver, he was a pretty good guy.  But he was still cruel to his crew and was responsible for some of their deaths.  Finally the men mutinied and keel-hauled ^[3] him, nearly scraping off his right leg.  He came to resent his wife as limp men often do, and strangled her.

Ellen calls Bill to come talk some sense into Andrew.  She tells him Andrew has started hunting rabbits in the yard.   He has also taken to drawing ships at his drafting table, and flies at the dinner table. ^[2]  Andrew limps in and begins yelling at Bill.  He accuses Bill of coming here to “consort” with Ellen, calling him Gideon.  Before we are treated to an accusation of “fornication”, Andrew points the gun at Bill.  Bill, understandably, leaves.

Andrew pushes Ellen around pretty violently, then begins strangling her.   A knocked over lamp catches the picture on fire and Andrew runs to it.  His hair is now thick and white like the Captain’s.  Andrew screams and collapses.  As the picture burns, he returns to normal.

A pretty flimsy episode.  That must be why John Newland’s introduction was interminable.  The story was also undermined by Andrew being a pushy jerk even before being possessed by the Captain.  Maybe unfair, but the presence of Robert Webber (Andrew) pretty much dooms an episode for me.

I rate it 2 bells.

Other Stuff:

• Finally, another OSB episode set in the USA!  Current tally:  9 USA episodes out of 18.
• Title Analysis:  Why are they referred to as guests?  They were not invited, and they are not welcome.
• Dramatisation [sic] credit to Charles Beaumont from whom I expect better.
• [1]  Everyone in this episode seems unusually grabby.  Even Bill had his hands on Ellen enough to make me wonder if they really were having an affair.
• [2]  Ya think there was a lot of bathing on 19th century ships?
• [3]  Who came up with keel-hauling?  Hey, I have an idea, let’s drag the Captain under the ship!  First, we need about 500 feet of precious rope that will be damaged.  Then someone has to swim under the ship in sea monster infested waters to loop the rope around.  Me?  No, it was my idea.  Then we tie him to each end of the rope.  We have to measure perfectly to give it enough slack to go around the ship, but it will have to be taut enough to pull him against the barnacled hull.  Question, Jenkins?  Well, I suppose he could be naked, but that’s not really the point.  Put away your scrimshaw tools.
• [3]  After 30 seconds research, turns out it wasn’t done like that.  Also it might never have happened on English or American ships.  Those crazy Dutchmen are a different story.