Journey by Moonlight

She thought for a long time about what the Persian would be like at close quarters. Oh yes, he certainly was the real Tiger, Tiger, burning bright/In the forests of the night. How his eye glowed … It could be quite terrifying. Yes, quite terrifying. She really should give him a try. Love has so many unexplored landscapes, so many secret, wonderful, paradisal places …

Two days later the Persian invited them on an outing by car to Paris-Plage. They bathed in the sea, had dinner, and set out for home in the dark.

The journey was a long one and the Persian, who was driving, began to be more and more uncertain.

“Tell me, did we see that lake when we came?” he asked János.

János looked thoughtfully into the dark.

“Perhaps you did. I didn’t.”

They stopped and studied the map.

“The devil knows where we might be. I don’t see any kind of lake here.”

“I said at the time the driver shouldn’t drink so much,” said János in exasperation.

They drove further on, in some uncertainty. No-one, not a vehicle, in the whole countryside.

“This car’s not right,” said János. “Have you noticed it spluttering from time to time?”

“Yes, it certainly is.”

As they drove on the spluttering became quite pronounced.

Do you understand this contraption?” asked the Persian. “Because I don’t know the first thing about it. For me, the mechanics of a car are still the work of the devil.”

“Pull over. I’ll see what the trouble is.”

János got out, lifted up the bonnet, and started to investigate.

“The fan belt is completely ruined. How on earth could you drive around with a fan belt like that? You really should look at your car occasionally.”

Suddenly he swore, copiously and brutally.

“ … the belt’s torn! Now we’ve done it!”

“Now you’ve done it.”

“I’ve certainly done it. We can’t go on until we find another belt. You might as well get out.”

They got out. Meanwhile it had started to rain. Erzsi fastened up her waterproof coat.

The Persian was angry and impatient.

“Hell and damnation, what do we do now? Here we are in the middle of the main road, and, I’ve a strong suspicion, this isn’t the main road any more.”

“I can see some sort of house over there,” said János. “Let’s try our luck there.”

“What, at this time of night? By now the whole French countryside is asleep, and anyone who is up won’t be talking to suspicious-looking foreigners.”

“But there’s a light on,” said Erzsi, pointing to the house.

“Let’s try it,” said János.

They locked the car, and made off towards the house. A wall enclosed the hill on which it stood, but the gate was open. They went up to the house.

It was a very grand-looking building. In the darkness it seemed like a miniature château, bristling with marquesses and the noble families of France.

They knocked. An old peasant-woman thrust her head out of a small opening in the door. János explained what had brought them there.

“I’ll just have a word with their lordship and ladyship.”

Soon a middle-aged Frenchman in country attire stood before them. He looked them up and down while János repeated his account of what had happened. His face slowly brightened, and he became immensely friendly.

“God has brought you amongst us, Madame and Gentlemen. Come in and tell us all about it.”

He led them into an old-fashioned room, reminiscent of a hunting lodge, where a lady sat at a table over her embroidery, evidently his wife. The man briefly explained the situation and made his visitors sit down.

“Your misfortune is our good luck,” said the lady. “You can’t imagine how dull these evenings are in the country. But of course one can’t leave one’s estates at this time of year, can one?”

Erzsi felt somehow ill at ease. The whole mansion seemed unreal, or indeed too real, like the set of a naturalistic play. And either these two people had sat there forever under the lamp, wordlessly waiting, or they had sprung into being at the precise moment of their arrival. Deep down she had the feeling that something was not quite right.

It emerged that the nearest village where they might find a garage was three kilometres off, but the hospitable couple had no-one they could send, as that night the male staff were sleeping out at the farmhouse.

“Do spend the night here,” suggested the wife. “There’s sleeping-room for all three of you.”

But János and the Persian were insistent that they still had to be in Paris that night.

“I am expected,” said the Persian, his discreet smile implying it was a question of a lady.

“There’s nothing else for it,” said János. “One of us will have to walk to the village. Three kilometres really isn’t much. Naturally I shall go, since I broke the fanbelt.”

“Not at all,” said the Persian. “I’ll go. Since you are my guests, I must see to it.”

“Well, let’s draw lots,” suggested János.

The draw determined that János should go.

“I’ll be straight back,” he said, and hurried off.