Rising Tides

Belle! cries François-René, as soon as he sees her.

She walks over, squelching through sand.

François-René, how nice to see you, says Belle.

You know one another? says Gaius. He's Arthur's new friend.

Belle et Bonne, says François-René. The look of the night and the smile of the dawn.

Cool it, says Belle. Do you still blame my papa for the French Revolution?

Vello? says Gaius. How can he be blamed for the French Revolution?

Merde! Come on! says Arthur.

Okay, says Belle. Fair enough. Let's move on.

I am more than willing, says François-René. I was about to show Arthur my island. Will you join us?

Yes, says Belle. If you don't mind me bringing these two scallywags.

François-René bends down to examine the two scallywags.

What is all this about? Two holy infants, painted in activist feathers and statements! BEWARE and THE RISING. It's....

He is about to say outrageous. But he knows he shouldn't.

He remembers something he wrote once, in 'The Genius of Christianity'.

Only Christianity is able to explain progress in arts and letters.

It was a foolish statement. He knew it at the time, but it does come in useful.

It's a sign of progress! says Francois-René. I assume it's about rising tides.

It's about stabbing, says Terence,

He loves the idea.

Stabbing and smashing, says Baldy.

Birds, says Gaius. It's about the extinction of birds.

Good thing too, says François-René.

Arthur nudges him sharply.

I mean, of course, he continues, preventing the extinction of birds is an excellent thing.

Indeed, says Gaius. Now, we should be getting on. The tide won't stay out while we natter.

Come, says François-René. We may see a bird or two. And I'll show you my tomb on the ocean side of the island.

Your tomb? says Gaius. May I ask who is in it?

Not me obviously, says Francois-René. Let's say, it awaits me. Meanwhile it is visited daily by thousands.

Of seagulls, mutters Belle.

In fact, she is partially right.

On the far side of the island, Lefty shits on the stone tomb of François-René de Chateaubriand, favourite son of Saint Malo.