Miklos Banffy - They Were Divided

‘How did he look? How was he?’

‘I think he looked thinner, but I can’t be sure. There was a fence between us, and a little fr-r-ront gar-r-rden … you know what those houses are like. I just looked up the path, but all I could see was a bottle and a glass beside the chair. He must have been sitting there dr-r-rinking. When he went in I saw him clutching the door-r-rpost and thought that per-r-rhaps he was ashamed for me to see him dr-r-runk. That’s why I didn’t go in … per-r-rhaps it was stupid of me. I’m sor-r-ry now I didn’t follow him.’

‘I haven’t had any news for ages,’ said Balint. ‘I wrote a couple of times last summer, but I never got any reply.’

Then he told Gazsi all that he did know, which was simply that he had heard that Laszlo had sold his property, but that he still lived there in an old servant’s house he had kept. On his mother’s behalf Balint had written to Laszlo offering him a home at Denestornya, either in a separate suite on the first floor or else in his grandfather’s old manor-house close by; but they had never had any answer. No doubt this was the way Laszlo wanted it for perhaps he had thought that he wouldn’t be free to drink as he pleased.

‘You remember Azbej, my mother’s old estate manager? It was he that bought Kozard from Laszlo. He says he gives Laci some sort of annuity, but I don’t know how much. I am not in touch with Azbej any more,’ he added dryly.

For a few more moments they sat there together, not speaking but both of them thinking about Laszlo’s sad life. Then Abady got up.

‘Come along,’ he said. ‘My mother will be waiting for us for tea.’

Together they walked silently down the hill. When they had almost reached the castle Kadacsay looked at Balint and said, ‘You know I really do feel sorry for poor Laci … but at least he’s lucky to have something to care for, even if it is only the dr-r-rink!’

Before dinner Balint carried Aron Kozma off to discuss with him various matters to do with the Co-operatives. Aron himself had some ideas for which he wanted Balint’s approval; and there were certain proposals that Balint put forward which he did not think were feasible. Aron had a logical mind and was full of common sense, and from that short discussion there emerged some straightforward practical measures from all the somewhat nebulous ideas that had been spinning round in Balint’s head since his reunion with Adrienne.

As both guests were going to leave Denestornya early the next morning good-byes were said that night.

‘Please,’ said Countess Roza as she offered her hand to be kissed, ‘greet your father from me, tell him everything that you’ve seen here and tell him too that although the years go by I am still quite sprightly and do not at all feel my great age!’

She had prepared this parting sentence early that morning and intended it as a poisoned arrow for her childhood playmate. She was determined to let him know that his uncalled-for mockery had had no effect upon her, and that his efforts to vex her with his peculiar form of birthday greetings had had no effect whatever.

As she spoke she was sure that it would now be Boldizsar’s turn to be annoyed and this pleased her so much that she smiled with renewed benevolence at his son.

LASZLO GYEROFFY LIVED in the house in the village that he had kept when he had sold his Kozard estate a year and a half before. He had kept it for the sake of his old servant, Marton Balogh, principally because he wanted to be sure that the old man had somewhere to live and would not be thrown out on the street, which he was sure Azbej would have no qualms about doing when he took possession of the manor house. He had originally thought of giving the place to Balogh outright, because it had never occurred to him that he might need it himself.

Not long after Laszlo had flung out of Sarah Bogdan’s house in a snowstorm and fallen dead drunk into a ditch near Apahida, a small one-horse cart had been driven along the main road. In it had been Bischitz, the Jewish storekeeper from Kozard who was driving home after a day in Kolozsvar. With him had been his daughter, Regina, who was the eldest of his children and the only one bright enough to feed the horse and look after the cart while Bischitz went about his business.

The storm had caught them when they were halfway home and their worn-out nag of a horse could hardly make any headway against the driving snow. By the time they had reached the iron bridge near Apahida they were hardly moving and it was because of this that they had seen Laszlo by the feeble light of the cart’s paraffin storm-lamp.

He had been lying face downwards at the edge of the ditch and he had been almost completely covered by snow. It was Regina who had first seen that there was someone there, and they had known who it was because of the familiar check of the coat he was wearing.

At once they had stopped the cart, pulled him out of the snow, and found that although he was by now almost sober again, he could hardly move but, though frozen stiff, was at least still alive. Together they had lifted him into the back of the cart, laid him down gently and driven him back to Kozard. Bischitz had thought he would leave him at the manor house, but it had been so late when they arrived, and the horse had been far too tired to manage the climb up to the house, so the shopkeeper’s wife had made up a bed for him in the only good room in their little house.

Laszlo spent one night there.

In the morning he woke with a high fever. The doctor was sent for, as was Azbej, and when the doctor pronounced that Laszlo would certainly develop pneumonia and would have to stay in bed for weeks, Azbej flatly refused to take him in at the manor house declaring that it was quite unthinkable to look after him there because he was about to start repairing the house and had that very day brought out the masons to start work. There could be no question, he declared, of having Laszlo looked after in his old home. And so it came about that the solution was found of carrying him to the house he still owned on the outskirts of the village and moving in Marton Balogh to look after him. The old servant nursed him and Regina came in often to help, which she did eagerly and efficiently. He was ill for several months, and though by the end of the summer he had got over the pneumonia, he was left with a nasty persistent cough; but his life had been saved.

At first Azbej paid whatever was necessary, largely because he thought this would be a good mark in his favour if ever the Abady family started to look into his dealings with their cousin Gyeroffy. This only came to an end when months had passed and Laszlo was still not fully recovered. One day Azbej told the shopkeeper that he would pay no more, and for a few days no one knew what to do or what would become of the invalid. Then a Dr Simay, an elderly lawyer from Szamos-Ujvar, arrived unheralded at the store. Bischitz had met him some twenty years before and indeed it was to him that the shopkeeper had sold the portrait of Laszlo’s errant mother, Julie Ladossa, after the distraught Mihaly Gyeroffy had slashed it almost in half and thrown it out of the window. Dr Simay had arrived just as unexpectedly then as he did now. This time he asked to speak to Bischitz alone. From that day on it was Bischitz who had provided whatever money was needed for Laszlo’s illness, and afterwards, though by no means lavishly, who had supplied whatever Laszlo needed to live on. For this he was given just forty crowns a week, no more, no less, and on that meagre allowance he managed to keep Laszlo alive. He was forbidden to lend him any money and was not allowed to give him credit at the store. He had also had to swear not to reveal where the money came from.