it is his death sentence he
loosens her hold). Bill Crichton has got to play the game. (He pulls the
levers. Soon through the window one of the beacons is seen flaring
red. There is a long pause. Shouting is heard. ERNEST is the first to
arrive.)

ERNEST. Polly, Gov., the boat has turned back. They are English sailors;
they have landed! We are rescued, I tell you, rescued!

LADY MARY (wanly). Is it anything to make so great a to-do about?

ERNEST (staring). Eh?

LADY MARY. Have we not been happy here?

ERNEST. Happy? Lord, yes.

LADY MARY (catching hold of his sleeve). Ernest, we must never forget
all that the Gov. has done for us.

ERNEST (stoutly). Forget it? The man who could forget it would be a
selfish wretch and a--But I say, this makes a difference!

LADY MARY (quickly). No, it doesn't.

ERNEST (his mind tottering). A mighty difference!

(The others come running in, some weeping with joy, others boisterous.
We see blue-jackets gazing through the window at the curious scene.
LORD LOAM comes accompanied by a naval officer, whom he is continually
shaking by the hand.)

LORD LOAM. And here, sir, is our little home. Let me thank you in the
name of us all, again and again and again.

OFFICER. Very proud, my lord. It is indeed an honour to have been able
to assist so distinguished a gentleman as Lord Loam.

LORD LOAM. A glorious, glorious day. I shall show you our other room.
Come, my pets. Come, Crichton.

(He has not meant to be cruel. He does not know he has said it. It is
the old life that has come back to him. They all go. All leave CRICHTON
except LADY MARY.)

LADY MARY (stretching out her arms to him). Dear Gov., I will never give
you up.

(There is a salt smile on his face as he shakes his head to her. He
lets the cloak slip to the ground. She will not take this for an answer;
again her arms go out to him. Then comes the great renunciation. By
an effort of will he ceases to be an erect figure; he has the humble
bearing of a servant. His hands come together as if he were washing
them.)

CRICHTON (it is the speech of his life). My lady.

(She goes away. There is none to salute him now, unless we do it.)

End of Act III.

ACT IV. THE OTHER ISLAND

Some months have elapsed, and we have again the honour of waiting upon
Lord Loam in his London home. It is the room of the first act, but
with a new scheme of decoration, for on the walls are exhibited many
interesting trophies from