rdon, my lady, one can't be sure--on an island.

(They look at each other uneasily.)

LORD LOAM (warningly). Crichton, I don't like this.

CRICHTON (harassed). The more I think of it, your lordship, the more
uneasy I become myself. When I heard, my lord, that you had left that
hairpin behind--(He is pained.)

LORD LOAM (feebly). One hairpin among so many would only have caused
dissension.

CRICHTON (very sorry to have to contradict him). Not so, my lord. From
that hairpin we could have made a needle; with that needle we could, out
of skins, have sewn trousers of which your lordship is in need; indeed,
we are all in need of them.

LADY MARY (suddenly self-conscious). All?

CRICHTON. On an island, my lady.

LADY MARY. Father.

CRICHTON (really more distressed by the prospect than she). My lady, if
nature does not think them necessary, you may be sure she will not ask
you to wear them. (Shaking his head.) But among all this undergrowth--

LADY MARY. Now you see this man in his true colours.

LORD LOAM (violently). Crichton, you will either this moment say, 'Down
with nature,'.

CRICHTON (scandalised). My Lord!

LORD LOAM (loftily). Then this is my last word to you; take a month's
notice.

(If the hut had a door he would now shut it to indicate that the
interview is closed.)

CRICHTON (in great distress). Your lordship, the disgrace--

LORD LOAM (swelling). Not another word: you may go.

LADY MARY (adamant). And don't come to me, Crichton, for a character.

ERNEST (whose immersion has cleared his brain). Aren't you all
forgetting that this is an island?

(This brings them to earth with a bump. LORD LOAM looks to his eldest
daughter for the fitting response.)

LADY MARY (equal to the occasion). It makes only this difference--that
you may go at once, Crichton, to some other part of the island.

(The faithful servant has been true to his superiors ever since he was
created, and never more true than at this moment; but his fidelity is
founded on trust in nature, and to be untrue to it would be to be untrue
to them. He lets the wood he has been gathering slip to the ground,
and bows his sorrowful head. He turns to obey. Then affection for these
great ones wells up in him.)

CRICHTON. My lady, let me work for you.

LADY MARY. Go.

CRICHTON. You need me so sorely; I can't desert you; I won't.

LADY MARY (in alarm, lest the others may yield). Then, father, there is
but one alternative, we must leave