‘And camels — are there many in your country?’
‘Oh, we’ve elephants,’ I said.
‘An elephant — an elephant,’ said Pierrot with much satisfaction. Meanwhile the nanny and her young man had come to the steps. The wind blew, and in the pool the boats raced one against the other, going to many lands, dashed against one another, fell on their sides, and rose up, and nobody was hurt or angry, because the sun shone.
‘Your country — you get there by sail-boat?’ he asked.
I said, ‘No. One goes there on steamers. One goes night and day, and for fifteen days. Then one comes to India.’
‘India,’ he repeated. He left the camel on the gravel. He sat by the pool, thinking.
‘And you? Have you a princess?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I even have two. They are not princesses. They are goddesses. One on my right hand and one on my left hand.’
‘One on your right hand, and one on your left hand. They are goddesses.’
‘Yes.’
‘What is a goddess, a goddess, Monsieur le Prince?’
‘Ah, goddesses, welclass="underline" they are ladies with four arms and a golden crown on their heads, and the water of the Ganges, all sweet with perfumes, runs at their feet.’
‘And you have two of them?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘One for the wedding of the night, and one for the wedding of the day. One who is dark as the bee, and the other who is blonde as butter.’
‘One is like dreaming. The other like waking up.’ He understood. He became silent. Then:
‘And they ride elephants.’ He smiled to himself. Now, he really understood. He went on:
‘They go down to the oasis, and they drink water.’
‘No, not to the oasis,’ I said. ‘But to the rivers.’
‘And the wedding — there is a wedding every day?’
‘Two weddings a day — one by the light of the sun and the other by the light of the moon.’
‘And the goddesses — they come riding on camels?’
‘No, I told you, they ride elephants.’
‘Yes, yes. They ride elephants. Two goddesses and they ride elephants.’
‘And then there is the river.’
‘Pierrot!’ shouted the nanny. He sat there looking at me as though he did not hear.
‘Pierrot!’ she shouted again. ‘What’s happened to you?’
‘Jeannot, I am with the Monsieur,’ he shouted back, without looking at her. ‘And I ride an elephant, I’m going to the elephant country. There are goddesses there — two goddesses.’ He looked up at her as she came over.
‘What’s happening to you anyway?’
‘I am going to the country of Monsieur.’
‘Look,’ she reproved him, ‘look at your Kiki. Look what you do with your animals.’
Pierrot was quiet for a moment. Then he said, ‘There’s a river there too.’
I said, ‘Yes, Pierrot.’
‘And no oasis?’
‘None.’
‘Kiki,’ he said, ‘you like the oasis. And there you are,’ he cried, and threw it into the pool. Kiki kicked up her legs and sank without a cry, Kiki went down to the bottom, and ships passed over her. Pierrot looked at the boats, borne by the wind swiftly. They encircled many continents. The nanny had gone happily away to the young man. ‘He likes you, Monsieur. Will you look after him? I’ll be back in a minute,’ she had said to me smiling, so big and fat and young. She wanted to be pressed against some tree and kissed. The sap in the trees was so fresh and full. The boats raced in the wind. There was no sand any more. There were many valleys, green, green, like the fields. A lot of water. Then there were trees. A lot of trees made a forest. A lot of forests made a country. A country with a lot of forests, and many, many rivers, is called India.
‘Your river — has it a lot of water?’ asked Pierrot. He tore a flower-stalk and held it between his teeth. He looked very serious. He looked straight at the pool and the sun inside the pool. Then suddenly he began to cry. He cried and cried silently, tears streaming down his cheeks.
‘I want to go to your country,’ he said. ‘I want to go to the wedding.’
‘And the elephant?’
‘Oh, yes. I will ride the elephant. Take me in your arms?’ I lifted him up. He held me tight against his head. He would not look back. I bought him some candy. He held the packet in his hand. He could not speak. He would not eat. He looked down at Kiki in the water.
‘And now, the fifteen days’ journey is over,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Where are the goddesses?’
‘Don’t you see, there’s one to the right and one to the left. And how beautiful they are.’
‘Yes. And I ride on my elephant. I’ll call him Titi the Elephant.’ He was pleased with his speech. “Titi, now there, turn to the left. And now to the right. There, you’re a good boy.” And what’s the name of your river, Monsieur le Prince?’
‘The Ganges,’ I said.
‘The Ganges, Titi. You see, you see that’s your river. There are two princesses, one to the right and one to the left. It’s not like the oasis. There, there’s only Jeannot. And the ships have sailed everywhere. They’ve gone far, very far, fifteen days far. The Ganges, it’s the river. It’s all purple. The elephant is all white. I go to the wedding. The ships go to the wedding. There are forests. There’s a wedding. The prince has buttons with faces in them. Oh, yes,’ he said, smiling.
The nanny came and said: ‘At whom are you smiling, Pierrot?’ She was alone now.
‘Jeannot, Jeannot,’ he cried, and jumped on the gravel. Jeanne looked very happy.
‘Take me up?’ he said. She lifted him and held him in her arms.
‘I go to the wedding,’ he shouted.
‘What wedding?’
‘Your wedding,’ he said, and gave her a bite on the cheek.
‘Petit nigaud!’ she said, happy.
‘Jeannot,’ he said. ‘Do you know where we are?’
‘At the Luxembourg.’
‘Non, petit nigaud,’ he answered back. ‘We are far, far away, fifteen days by steamship. There are no sands. There are no camels. There are forests — and then, there are elephants. Then, there’s the Ganges.’ I smiled. ‘This monsieur, he’s the Prince of India.’
‘Yes,’ I said. The wind blew hard and cold. The boats fell against one another.
‘We must be going home now. Oh, it’s so cold,’ said Jeanne, as though to the wind. She was looking at the gate of the garden, the one near the Medici fountain. The young man was gone, and the path had gone with him. The leaves were black against that grey sky.
‘Jeannot,’ said Pierrot, ‘in that country, there are two princesses. But me,’ he whispered, hugging her against his cheeks, ‘I have only you.’
‘His father,’ explained Jeanne, ‘is a colonel and is in Morocco. Pierrot’s mother died in childbirth. It’s now almost two years since it happened.’
‘You are my friend,’ he said to her, begging.
‘Oh, yes, I am your sweetheart,’ she said. In the Luxembourg everybody heard it. The Sorbonnard girl looked up and let fall her book on her lap, and reflected. Time flies in the spring. One should not grow big-bosomed like some Anne of Austria (1629–1687?).
‘We’re going to the wedding, to the wedding!’ cried Pierrot, on his way.
‘And Kiki?’ asked Jeanne, anxious.
‘Kiki is in the oasis. I know that,’ he said.
‘Ah, petit nigaud, and what will grandfather say to me? “You’re a harlot, a liar, a hypocrite!” And you, and your Kiki? What have you done with him, Pierrot?’
Pierrot slid down her waist and stood on the gravel. Then he took my hand, and said: ‘Prince, take me to your country, take me to the wedding. There are two goddesses, one for the wedding of the night and the other for the wedding of the day. And there’s the elephant, Titi. I am on Titi this morning. He walks, he walks like this as one rides up the waves, and then rides down. The boat goes up and goes down the waves. I go to your country.’