The Admirable Crichton

by J. M. Barrie

TREHERNE. We don’t like to before you, Gov.

CRICHTON (his last order). It is my wish.

(The merrymaking is resumed, and soon CRICHTON himself joins in the dance. It is when the fun is at its fastest and most furious that all stop abruptly as if turned to stone. They have heard the boom of a gun. Presently they are alive again. ERNEST leaps to the window.)

TREHERNE (huskily). It was a ship’s gun. (They turn to CRICHTON for confirmation; even in that hour they turn to CRICHTON.) Gov.?

CRICHTON. Yes.

(In another moment LADY MARY and LORD LOAM are alone.)

LADY MARY (seeing that her father is unconcerned). Father, you heard.

LORD LOAM (placidly). Yes, my child.

LADY MARY (alarmed by his unnatural calmness). But it was a gun, father.

LORD LOAM (looking an old man now, and shuddering a little). Yes—a gun—I have often heard it. It’s only a dream, you know; why don’t we go on dancing?