Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

‘Ever since I left Almasko I’ve been thinking that if Uzdy is now so wrapped up in his new hobby, and if he doesn’t seem so jealous and possessive as he was, surely a divorce might now be possible?’

Adrienne answered very slowly, ‘Yes, maybe. I often think about it, especially when I’m with you. But he isn’t always the same, you know. Sometimes … well, sometimes he seems to … oh, he’s completely unpredictable … and … and, well, demanding!’ Her face clouded over and she shut her eyes tightly. It was clear that her victory over him was by no means certain.

‘I use every excuse,’ she went on, ‘to go away. Now I’ll stay here for a week or so; then maybe go to Kolozsvar for the hunting at Zsuk. I really ought to do that for Margit’s sake and of course I’ll say it’s for her, to give her a chance of meeting some young men. I may not be able to pull it off as of course we can’t go to balls as we’re still in mourning. Anyhow I’m doing all I can to get him used to my being away.’ They walked on in silence. Then Adrienne tried to sum up her feelings: ‘This is what I’m working on, but I can’t make a final decision yet. The time isn’t ripe and I feel it’s impossible just now. If I raised the matter I’d have to tell him why. Even if I didn’t tell him and he didn’t already suspect the reason, he’d soon find out … and then …’ She shuddered. ‘No, it’s impossible now.’

Balint thought he caught a note of fear in her voice, even though she had not told him everything that was in her mind.

The day after she had last been with Balint into the forest she had returned to take a walk in the same direction, westwards, towards the Abady holdings. On that day she had not gone as far as the boundary between the properties before turning to go home: and then a most unexpected thing had happened. She found herself face to face with her husband. There, on the path, was Uzdy who never normally walked more than a hundred paces away from the house and who ran his estates by studying the agents’ reports in the comfort of his own study. But there he was, standing in front of her!

He must have been spying on her, she thought. That could be the only reason why he had got up so unusually early. She could only imagine that he had been secretly watching to see when she left the house and then, wearing noiseless rubber-soled shoes so as not to be heard as he stole after her, he must have followed wherever she went, presumably at some little distance. And he, who never took a shot at any living animal but only at targets set up in the park or in the castle shooting gallery, was carrying a precision rifle on one shoulder. He surely would not carry such a thing for no reason — he must have brought it either for her, or for Abady.

All these thoughts passed swiftly through her head as she saw him on the path in front of her. Everything fell into place. It was obvious! And how lucky it was that AB had left the day before and was nowhere near. Quickly she walked up to Uzdy and stood before him, ‘Whatever are you doing here?’ she asked belligerently with her head held high.

Uzdy laughed somewhat awkwardly. For a moment he looked like a young boy caught out in some minor misdeed. ‘Why, I wanted to see for myself how nice a morning walk could be. Don’t you approve, dear Addy?’

She shrugged her shoulders. His words seemed hardly to warrant any reply, so she merely said, ‘And the rifle? Are you going shooting?’

‘Shooting? No! But I thought maybe I’d find some convenient target here in the woods, a tree, or a stone … something like that!’ He laughed again, somewhat maliciously, Adrienne thought; and for an instant his eyes flashed dangerously. ‘I thought it might be interesting to try some target without measuring the distance beforehand. If I could hit it accurately … That’s the important thing, accuracy … accuracy. The whole beauty is in accuracy, to hit accurately, just that. Accuracy,’ and he repeated the word several times.

They had walked home together without speaking; and afterwards the incident was never again mentioned between them.

Adrienne was thinking of this incident when she again said, ‘No! We can’t do it yet, not yet. We can’t bring it up now.’

After dinner at the Miloths everyone remained in the dining-room, the ladies leaning their elbows on the wrinkled table-cloth and the men drinking their wine and dropping cigar ash on the table just as if they had been in a tavern. The footman and the maid leant against the wall scarcely troubling to conceal their yawns. This would never have happened while Countess Miloth was still alive but since her death what little order she had contrived had vanished. Everybody did as they pleased and young Margit, who was trying to run the household as best she could, followed her own instincts and pursued her own goals which were, simply, that the young men who came to the house should feel themselves at home and be able to talk as they pleased and drink what they wanted. Even if anyone had questioned her she would probably just have replied that it was best that way.

The first person to get up from table was old Mademoiselle Morin, who retired to the drawing-room as soon as the meal was ended, offended and sighing deeply, to continue knitting the eternal woollen stocking on which she seemed to have been engaged for the last twenty years. Later on old Rattle dragged the youngest Alvinczy there too so as to have a captive audience for his tales of the Garibaldi campaigns. The others had stayed in the dining-room for, with peals of laughter, they rebelled at the idea of hearing all that again. What they wanted to talk about was the previous night’s adventure and what it had led to. Nemesis, it seemed, had caught up with the night watchman, for the village council had met and dismissed him; and so the drama of the cow, as in a Greek tragedy, had had its inexorable effect.

Although everyone was laughing and joking the evening was not entirely carefree; a shadow lurked behind the mirth for no one could quite forget that poor Judith, their former companion and playmate, was living there, at the end of the house, her mind clouded. A few of them, like Abady, had caught a glimpse of her, and the others had been told by Ida Laczok. The knowledge that she was there afflicted them all and gradually the jokes and laughter died away. One or two of them occasionally glanced at the glazed door that led to the veranda and even fancied that they glimpsed there the face of a young girl with death in her eyes.

As their mirth faded so they began to talk about more serious subjects, about people who were lucky and those that were not, about the disappearance of Laszlo Gyeroffy, about Dinora Malhuysen who had signed bank drafts for Wickwitz and who had everywhere been ostracized when the scandal became known; and about Fate who distributed good and bad luck with total indifference and how some people were destroyed without apparent reason while others, who might not deserve it, had joy and success thrust upon them.

‘You can’t measure happiness equally; everybody is not the same!’ said Adam Alvinczy sadly, as he looked at Adrienne. Then Gazsi thumped the table loudly.

‘That’s just not true,’ he shouted. ‘Everybody is the same, neither happy nor unhappy. It’s the same rotten deal for us all!’

Everyone looked up at him in astonishment for Gazsi had never been known to think about anything but practical jokes and horses.