Two Wrong Persons

Is anyone thinking what I'm thinking? asks Louisa.

What are you thinking? asks Arthur.

That what we're doing is crazy, says Louisa.

What in particular? asks Arthur.

We're not meant to be here at night, says Louisa. There's no camping. And we've run out of oranges. And you ate the chocolate, and we've left Baby-Glossy with a lobster.....

That was sensible, says Gaius, cycling close behind them. 

Okay, maybe that was sensible, says Louisa. But what about the rest?

Look around you, says Arthur. 

Louisa doesn't need to.

Blackness, dripping bushes, the occasional revelatory moon glint.

That owl.

Or another one.

And rocks.

Are you SCARED? asks Terence.

Me no, says the Ear.

Not you, her, says Terence.

No, says Louisa. Just thinking. Do you think you've missed seeing Alfonse?

Wah! says Terence. Have I?

No, says Gaius. Alfonse will be here tomorrow, with his family.

And his ear, says Terence.

If it is an ear, says Louisa. What was the competition exactly?

Whose is an ear? says Terence.

That's not an Ear competition, says the Ear. I was expecting something like, you know, a whisper. Which ear can best hear it. Perhaps it gets softer. Until none of us can.

That's a great competition, says Louisa. Did we arrange where to meet them?

No, says Gaius. But they're sure to turn up at Remarkable Rocks. 

Or the lighthouse, says Arthur.

Indeed. Or the lighthouse, says Gaius. Neither of which were burnt down.

Okay, says Louisa. We should split up, so we don't miss them.

At first light, we shall, says Gaius. It's an excellent way to proceed. We can all make notes on the recovery. We can all count endangered birds. And work our way back to where we left Captain Baudin with Baby-Glossy.

But who will I go with? asks Terence. What if it's the wrong person?

In fact, says the Ear. There will be two wrong persons.

Who are they? asks Terence.

We don't know yet, says Louisa. But whoever is the right person can call you, if you're not with them.

Or, says the Ear, they could whistle, and we would come.

And we'd automatically win the competition, says Terence.

I should say so, says the Ear.

By this time they have arrived at the Ravine des Casoars, which at night is even more dreary.