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. LORD LOAM. Bless me, so he did. LADY MARY. Father, be strong. LORD LOAM (bewildered). You can’t mean that my faithful Crichton-- LADY MARY. Yes, I do. TREHERNE. Lady Mary, I stake my word that Crichton is incapable of acting dishonourably. LADY MARY. I know that; I know it as well as you. Don’t you see that that is what makes him so dangerous? TREHERNE. By Jove, I--I believe I catch your meaning. CATHERINE. He is coming back. LORD LOAM (who has always known himself to be a man of ideas). Let us all go into the hut, just to show him at once that it is our hut. LADY MARY (as they go). Father, I implore you, assert yourself now and for ever. LORD LOAM. I will. LADY MARY. And, please, don’t ask him how you are to do it. (CRICHTON returns with sticks to mend the fire.) LORD LOAM (loftily, from the door of the hut). Have you carried out my instructions, Crichton? CRICHTON (deferentially). Yes, my lord. (ERNEST appears, mopping his hair, which has become very wet since we last saw him. He is not bearing malice, he is too busy drying, but AGATHA is specially his champion.) AGATHA. It’s infamous, infamous.