Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

Pal Uzdy had naturally been at the wedding; and his uncle, who had not seen him for some time, had been disturbed by some decidedly odd mannerisms he seemed to have developed. Old Absolon noticed, for example, how often Uzdy would adopt unusual, even awkward, poses. He could see him now, standing in a group of people, but remaining oddly still with his right hand held in front of his face with the forefinger pointed back towards his nose just as if he were inspecting something caught under his nail. The stance was utterly contrived and, apparently, meaningless. When he moved he put one foot in front of the other with concentrated deliberation as if it were only by so doing that he prevented them from running away with him. When he spoke to anyone he affected a proud, disdainful manner which suggested that he despised them all. None of this was completely new to him for his manner had always been individual and usually ungracious; but his oddnesses had never before been so pronounced. Absolon was uncomfortably reminded of his brother-in-law shortly before he went off his head. Pal Uzdy’s father had then shown much the same peculiarities as his son did now.

He had been thinking of this ever since that moment the day before when he had told Adrienne he sympathized with her wanting a divorce.

It was because of this that he had at once put through a telephone call to Regen. It had been to the principal of the hospital and it had been to warn him to expect him the following day. Now he was trying to decide how best to reveal to Adrienne that he thought it best, before giving her any further help and advice, to consult this particular doctor and indeed to take her to meet him. Dr Wolf Herman Kisch was a most distinguished practitioner and before accepting the post of running the Regen hospital he had been a consultant specialist in nervous diseases. He had worked with the internationally renowned Kraepelin in Berlin and also spent a year with Charcot. Absolon felt that they would be better qualified to deal with this delicate problem if first they had the benefit of Dr Kisch’s advice. It was even possible that he would agree to help.

He lit another cigar and then turned to his niece. Carefully choosing his words so as not to alarm her, he said, ‘Among other things, my dear niece, it occurred to me that since we are here we might take the opportunity of calling on an old friend of mine, Dr Kisch. He might give us some good advice on how best to tackle your problem.’

‘Tell a country doctor about our private affairs? In Regen?’ said Adrienne, astonished by such an out-of-the-way suggestion.

‘Oh, he isn’t at all what you think of as a country doctor. He’s a most exceptional man and there are very few like him, not only here but in all Europe.’ Without pausing long enough for Adrienne to veto the idea he proceeded to tell her Dr Kisch’s story. He had been born, related Absolon, in the large German-speaking village of Dedrad nearby. He had been outstanding at school and after graduating at the Saxon University he had been offered a grant which would cover all his expenses to study medicine abroad if, in return, he would undertake to come back and take up any position for which they might want him. Kisch accepted. He qualified as a doctor and soon specialized in the new science of psychiatry. In this he undertook some highly important research and as a result the University of Jena offered him a professorship; but he could not then accept the offer. Just at that time, five years before, he had been called home as his sponsors wanted him to take up the direction of the brand-new little hospital at Regen. It had thirty beds and every modern improvement known to science. If he accepted it would mean giving up all idea of international fame, of time to pursue his researches, of everything for which he had seemed so uniquely qualified. Dr Kisch had stood by his word: he came back.

‘You see, this really is a man to whom we could tell the truth about my nephew. There can be no doubt that if Pali Uzdy is not actually mad he is certainly not normal, so it would be a wise precaution to have him looked at by a specialist in mental cases. It would have to be done very discreetly, of course; and someone like Dr Kisch might advise some cure or other, some way to make him relax and take things more calmly. It might be a help in ensuring that … that things went smoothly, that there weren’t any unexpected … er … unpleasant consequences.’

Absolon’s words were uttered with the same special inflection he had used the previous day when he had said, ‘I will do as you ask and try to help. You … and anyone else … must be protected’.

‘But aren’t there excellent specialists at Kolozsvar?’

‘My nephew probably knows them, if only by sight. He cannot possibly know anything about Dr Kisch. We might introduce him as some eminent fellow on a walking tour. As it happens, he really is an avid collector of butterflies, so it would seem quite natural if he suddenly turned up at Almasko.’

Adrienne did not answer, she was too upset by what she sensed lay behind the old man’s words, by the possibility that Uzdy might need treatment for some nervous disorder. Though for years she had thought him remarkably odd and eccentric, it had never before occurred to her that he needed psychiatric treatment or that he might be heading for real madness; and the idea filled her with horror, for if that happened there could be no divorce and she would be bound to him until one of them died.

Absolon, perhaps sensing her thoughts, said reassuringly, ‘Perhaps I’m being over-cautious, but it seemed like a good idea which might be a help in getting everything settled quickly. I’m sure it would help me to do what you ask.’

‘All right!’ said Adrienne. ‘I trust you. I’ll do whatever you think best.’

As they were driving into the town they caught up with Absolon’s carriage which had left Borbathjo at dawn. It was drawn by four well-groomed ponies, sturdy and sleek with shiny coats and very long manes and tails. Absolon did not use a normal travelling carriage but preferred a long low country wagon such as the peasants used to go to market. The driver and groom were dressed to match, in the classic peasant’s trousers and jerkins, just like all those who worked at Borbathjo both inside the house and out, for Absolon did not care for livery, thinking it somewhat pretentious.

When Adrienne’s carriage drew abreast Absolon called out, ‘Go straight to the White Lamb, unhitch the horses and wait there!’

As he spoke they were rumbling across the old bridge over the Maros and were soon jolting through the town on what were well-known to be the worst cobble-stones in the district. Right through the town they went and out on the other side, where the new hospital stood upon a hill.

It was a handsome building and on its , in huge letters, was written STÄDTLICHES KRANKENHAUS — Town Hospital. Inside, all the notices and signs were also written in German. The porter, who had already been warned of their arrival, showed them straight into the Warteraum from which opened another door labelled ORDINATIONS-ZIMMER DES OBERARZTES — Interview Room of the Doctor-in-Charge.

Almost at once a young doctor came in to conduct Absolon to his superior. Adrienne was left alone and was at once filled with unreasoning anxiety, which she did not understand for she had become accustomed to hospitals during the long years of her mother’s illness and when her sister Judith had spent some time in various sanatoriums after her breakdown. At all those times she had been quite unaffected by the coldness and sterility of her surroundings and had paid no attention to it, accepting the frigid unwelcoming atmosphere as being appropriate to a building that had to be as functional as a machine-tool.