Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

And so the relations between mother and son became even colder and more distant as the days went by.

A few days later a letter from Adrienne arrived at Denestornya. It gave a brief account of the Saxon doctor’s visit to Almasko and merely said that nothing could be decided at once and that they would still have to wait some weeks, perhaps a month, and then, maybe then, she would be able to tell her husband of her intention to sue for divorce. At present it was still impossible and so they would still have to wait. Wait!

Though she did not say so in so many words, it was clear that Adrienne was deeply depressed. She did not go into any details beyond saying that Dr Kisch had made a good impression at Almasko.

Dr Kisch had planned his arrival carefully and he had furthermore been helped by what appeared to be a happy chance, though it is true that some clever people seem to be able to create their own chances.

One day Pal Uzdy was practising target and clay pigeon shooting on the hollowed-out hillside near the edge of the Almasko park that he had had specially laid out for that purpose. The stands were at the foot of the hill and there stood the rifle-racks and a telescope on a tripod with which to check the accuracy of the shooting. In front was a small meadow and at its farther end a trench had been dug from which the lad who had been trained for the purpose fed the five mechanical disc-throwers. On the other side, in front of the hillside, rows of targets had been set up at exactly 50, 100, 200 and 250 metres’ distance from the rifle stand. The whole area was fenced in by a thick wire mesh above and on both sides of the target. At the right-hand side of the range were the first trees of the surrounding forest.

At one time Uzdy had practised every day, but recently, since he had become interested in his new theory of numbers, he had come less often. Lack of practice, however, had not affected his skill as a marksman and, no matter what calibre of bullet he used, he rarely missed the centre of the target.

On that morning he had been down at the range for some time, firstly shooting at the clay discs and, when they ran out, at the 250-metre target.

This was placed near the top of the hillside. Beside Uzdy, the girl Clemmie’s English nanny watched the target through the telescope and announced the results. This had been her job since the girl had been given a French governess. Uzdy, though he never spoke to her and had never seemed to notice her existence, had suddenly developed a liking for the elderly spinster and now always gave her this task.

At one moment the butler Maier came to ask if his master wanted to come back to the house for tea or if he wished it brought down to the range. Though normally he sent a footman on this errand, on this day he came down himself. When his master gave no answer but went on shooting, Maier just stood patiently waiting. As he did so he kept his eyes on the hillside.

Although it was quite late in the afternoon the sun was still shining brightly and where the blackthorn and beech seedlings had been planted on the steep hillside every branch was clearly etched against the yellow clay soil. Here and there some outcrops of chalk rock gleamed white and the grass seemed even greener than usual, even through the mesh of the wire fence.

A figure came out of the forest above the range, a tall man wearing a plus-four suit of green linen and hobnailed boots. He was wearing thick glasses, carried a butterfly net in one hand, with a rucksack on his back and a tin box slung over one shoulder. He was walking along a rarely used path which, before this hillside had been fenced in, had formerly been a cattle-track that came through the woods and then diagonally down the hill where the shooting range now stood.

The stranger moved forward with slow deliberate steps until one foot hit the wire mesh. Then he stooped and, being obviously very short-sighted, bent down to see what it was that stood in his way. Then, having exceptionally long legs, he stepped over the fence and calmly continued on his way … in the direction of the targets.

The old English nanny saw him first. So, perhaps, did Maier, but he did not say anything.

‘Look out! There’s a man up there!’ called out the nanny in English and then everyone, Uzdy, Maier, the nanny and even the boy in the ditch, all shouted to the traveller who, heedless of the uproar, walked straight on into the path of the bullets. He took no notice of the noise, presumably not thinking he might be the cause of it, but merely walked calmly onwards.

At this Uzdy lost his temper. In quick succession he fired three bullets which hit the rocks a few inches in front of the stranger’s feet. Pakk! Pakk! Pakk! Three sharp metallic clangs. Little fragments of rock shot about.

Only now did it seem that the traveller realized he had perhaps strayed into a dangerous spot. He turned in the direction from which the bullets had come and then, still quite slowly, descended the steep slope of the hill.

Pal Uzdy was chuckling triumphantly.

‘Please forgive me for trespassing on private land,’ said the stranger when he had jumped the ditch and reached the rifle stands. He then lifted his hat and introduced himself. ‘Wolf Hermann Kisch, from Szasz-Regen.’

He said nothing else, and nothing at all to indicate that he was a doctor by profession. He spoke fluent Hungarian with hardly a trace of a German accent, and he explained that he was a keen collector of butterflies and had wandered rather further than he had planned. That was how he had happened to come so far, roaming wherever the chase took him. Uzdy was now roaring with laughter, but the doctor took it all in good part. Looking around he saw the elderly Englishwoman and said, ‘Your wife, I presume! I kiss your hand, my Lady.’ He didn’t seem to notice Maier, though it had been with him that he had planned his arrival that morning when the old butler had walked over to the inn at Korosfo. Maier had started life as a trained nurse.

That was how Dr Kisch had introduced himself to Almasko, and Uzdy had at once asked him to stay, considering the doctor as his special acquisition, almost as his prey. It was as if he were proud of him. Countess Clémence, just as obviously, disliked him. She too did not know his profession.

For some time now Uzdy had no longer listened to anything his mother had to say. There was even a hostile glint in his eyes when he looked at her. This had started when the old lady had got back from Meran, and was most unexpected in Uzdy who had always been scrupulously polite and attentive to her. Now he would answer her with unconcealed irritation and sometimes he even queried her household arrangements even though that had always been her undisputed domain. Then too he would tease and persecute the new governess, and he would do it in such a way that it was clear to everyone that he only did it to annoy his mother.

However he took an immediate liking to Dr Kisch and on the first morning of his stay took him into his confidence and revealed to him all the details of that tremendous secret by which he would reform the whole world’s science of figures. All through Dr Kisch’s stay they would be closeted together for hours on end, go for long walks together, and spend half the night in talk in Uzdy’s study. Though it was forbidden to everyone else the doctor was told to enter that holy of holies whenever he wished, whether invited or not.