ence! Crichton, I want your advice as to what I
ought to do with Mr. Ernest. He has defied me.

ERNEST. Pooh!

CRICHTON (after considering). May I speak openly, my lord?

LADY MARY (keeping her eyes fixed on him). That is what we desire.

CRICHTON (quite humbly). Then I may say, your lordship, that I have been
considering Mr. Ernest's case at odd moments ever since we were wrecked.

ERNEST. My case?

LORD LOAM (sternly). Hush.

CRICHTON. Since we landed on the island, my lord, it seems to me that
Mr. Ernest's epigrams have been particularly brilliant.

ERNEST (gratified). Thank you, Crichton.

CRICHTON. But I find--I seem to find it growing wild, my lord, in the
woods, that sayings which would be justly admired in England are not
much use on an island. I would therefore most respectfully propose that
henceforth every time Mr. Ernest favours us with an epigram his head
should be immersed in a bucket of cold spring water.

(There is a terrible silence.)

LORD LOAM (uneasily). Serve him right.

ERNEST. I should like to see you try to do it, uncle.

CRICHTON (ever ready to come to the succour of his lordship). My
feeling, my lord, is that at the next offence I should convey him to a
retired spot, where I shall carry out the undertaking in as respectful a
manner as is consistent with a thorough immersion.

(Though his manner is most respectful, he is firm; he evidently means
what he says.)

LADY MARY (a ramrod). Father, you must not permit this; Ernest is your
nephew.

LORD LOAM (with his hand to his brow). After all, he is my nephew,
Crichton; and, as I am sure, he now sees that I am a strong man--

ERNEST (foolishly in the circumstances). A strong man. You mean a stout
man. You are one of mind to two of matter. (He looks round in the old
way for approval. No one has smiled, and to his consternation he
sees that CRICHTON is quietly turning up his sleeves. ERNEST makes an
appealing gesture to his uncle; then he turns defiantly to CRICHTON.)

CRICHTON. Is it to be before the ladies, Mr. Ernest, or in the privacy
of the wood? (He fixes ERNEST with his eye. ERNEST is cowed.) Come.

ERNEST (affecting bravado). Oh, all right.

CRICHTON (succinctly). Bring the bucket.

(ERNEST hesitates. He then lifts the bucket and follows CRICHTON to the
nearest spring.)

LORD LOAM (rather white). I'm sorry for him, but I had to be firm.

LADY MARY. Oh father, it wasn't you who was firm. Crichton did it
himself.

L