If You Die You Die

Bertille comes down the steps, followed by the two bishops.

Where's our sea slug? asks Bertille.

Gaius has got it, says Terence.

Gaius shows Bertille the aplysia fasciata.

It's not the same one! says Bertille. Where's the first one?

I squished it, says Terence. Remember?

Well, where's the second one? asks Bertille. The one you ran down the steps with.

Alas! says Terence.

What does that mean? asks Bertille.

It's what you say when it isn't your fault, says Terence. I just put it down and a wave came. 

What has happened? asks Saint Arnoc.

It floated away, says Bertille. Gaius has found another one.

Let me see, says Saint Arnoc. Ah! a sea hare!

Yes, says Gaius. Commonly known as a sea hare. But not the sea slug I seek.

Dear me, says Saint Arnoc. If it's not one thing it's another.

It certainly is. 

Now Bertille's parents have returned from their outing in Brest.

They wave from the top of the steps.

Bertille, chérie. We're back now!

Can you see a chocolate box far out to sea? shouts Bertille.

No! shouts her father. Pourquoi?

Never mind, shouts Bertille.

I'll go in and fetch the binoculars! shouts Bertille's mother.

The parents disappear.

Meanwhile Gaius has decided to replace the sea hare. 

I'll take it, says Terence. I know where it was.

He carries the sea hare back to the crevice.

Merci, says the sea hare. 

Can you say anything else? asks Terence.

I'd rather be replaced on the sand, says the sea hare. I only hide in the crevices when the tide comes in. 

Woop! says Terence. Would you like a mission?

Depends, says the sea hare.

Terence explains the mission. Take a message to anyone out on the ocean who might know what happened to Saint Roley's brother, and if the brother is still out there on his piece of wet cardboard let him know that Saint Roley is still looking and ALSO this: if you die you die but if you lose your body you can grow a new body because sea slugs can.

That's a long message, says the sea hare.

It has to be, says Terence, or it wouldn't have everything in it.

It's good that I have my own ink, says the sea hare.

Terence can hardly believe it.