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 him. (LORD LOAM is looking yearningly at CRICHTON.) TREHERNE. It seems a pity. CATHERINE (forlornly). You will work for us? TREHERNE. Most willingly. But I must warn you all that, so far, Crichton has done nine-tenths of the scoring. LADY MARY. The question is, are we to leave this man? LORD LOAM (wrapping himself in his dignity). Come, my dears. CRICHTON. My lord! LORD LOAM. Treherne--Ernest--get our things. ERNEST. We don’t have any, uncle. They all belong to Crichton. TREHERNE. Everything we have he brought from the wreck--he went back to it before it sank. He risked his life. CRICHTON. My lord, anything you would care to take is yours. LADY MARY (quickly). Nothing. ERNEST. Rot! If I could have your socks, Crichton-- LADY MARY. Come, father; we are ready. (Followed by the others, she and LORD LOAM pick their way up the rocks. In their indignation they scarcely notice that daylight is coming to a sudden end.) CRICHTON. My lord, I implore you--I am not desirous of being head. Do you have a try at it, my lord. LORD LOAM (outraged). A try at it! CRICHTON (eagerly). It may be that you will prove to be the best man. LORD LOAM. May be! My children, come. (They disappear proudly in single file.) TREHERNE. Crichton, I’m sorry; but of course I must go with them. CRICHTON. Certainly, sir. (He calls to TWEENY, and she comes from behind the hut, where she has been watching breathlessly.) Will you be so kind, sir, as to take her to the others? TREHERNE. Assuredly. TWEENY. But what do it all mean? CRICHTON. Does, Tweeny, does. (He passes her up the rocks to TREHERNE.) We shall meet again soon, Tweeny. Good night, sir. TREHERNE. Good night. I dare say they are not far away. CRICHTON (thoughtfully). They went westward, sir, and the wind is blowing in that direction. That may mean, sir, that nature is already taking the matter into her own hands. They are all hungry, sir, and the pot has come a-boil. (He takes off the lid.) The smell will be borne westward. That pot is full of nature, Mr. Treherne. Good night, sir. TREHERNE. Good night.