Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

Balint was thinking about this when he finally found himself alone in his room. It was possible that the old lady had come to believe that he had found a new distraction at Jablanka, at the Szent-Gyorgyis’, for when he mentioned little Lili Illesvary, his mother had even smiled, with no sign of disapproval or that sharp nodding of the head which always signified anger or disbelief. Of course it was more than two months since he had seen Adrienne and no doubt his mother knew this and rejoiced because she believed that his infatuation was over. In fact the link between him and Adrienne had grown ever stronger, even though they had recently met so little. Until recently, since they had renewed their love, hardly a week or ten days had passed without their somehow contriving to meet either in public or in private, or even in some secret place where they would not have risked discovery. Since his last visit to Almasko Balint had decided that he did not dare visit his little lodge built where the Abady forests marched with those of Adrienne’s husband, for it would have seemed strange to go to the cabin in winter-time, when the Uzdy mansion was so close, and therefore he would be forced to stay in that hated house knowing what happened there between Adrienne and her unhinged husband. Adrienne too, though she never told Balint that her husband had followed her through the forest with a hunting rifle on his arm, had written saying that he should not come to Almasko. It was only because of this that they had not seen each other for the past two months.

Time and again Balint said to himself that this cat-and-dog existence was no life, no life at all. Now, on Christmas Eve, he felt it even more strongly and made up his mind, which had been strengthened by these endless weeks of separation, that somehow this sterile, frustrating, bleak existence must be ended; and he thought once more of his mother’s obstinate resistance and of Pal Uzdy’s madness and total incompatibility with his wife.

Finally he decided that as soon as Addy came back to Kolozsvar they must definitely arrange her divorce.

However, days and weeks went by and they brought no change. In the middle of January Adrienne wrote and said that she would not be able to move from Almasko for some time to come. Her daughter had developed measles and even though old Countess Uzdy took entire charge of the sickroom and practically denied Adrienne access to her child, she was still unable to get away.

Balint wrote to Gyeroffy at Christmas time and, in his own name and that of his mother, asked him to spend the New Year with them. He also mentioned that he had a letter for him from his aunt, Countess Elise. Laszlo did not answer and did not appear; and so Balint decided one day to take a hired sleigh, drive to Szamos-Kozard, and take his cousin by surprise. It would be better that way for if Laszlo saw one of the easily recognizable Denestornya carriages on the road he might take fright and vanish before Balint could find him. It was not far, only about five miles.

There was thick snow everywhere that year and it took nearly three hours for the heavy covered sleigh drawn by three horses to reach the village of Kozard. It was a good sleigh, for at that time there was no lack of excellent vehicles available for hire, and it drove merrily along with a happy jingle of silvery-toned bells. They arrived at midday and drove straight up to the little country house on its hilltop.

‘His Lordship is not at home,’ said Marton Balogh, Laszlo’s old manservant. ‘He went down to the village. Perhaps you might find him at the village store. I’m afraid I don’t really know.’

‘When do you expect his Lordship back?’ asked Balint, but the old man merely shrugged his shoulders, thinking that maybe his master had gone down for some country brandy and if that were so then his movements would be totally unpredictable.

Balint decided to walk down the hill and see for himself, and so he started off down the slippery snow-covered slope. Halfway down he met a young farmer, who was also the local civic deputy and who carried an official-looking paper in his hand. Balint asked him where he should find the village store and the young man pointed out the way.

Laszlo was indeed there.

He stood with his back to the shop door and on the other side of the counter was Bischitz, the owner of the shop, who was standing just in front of the glazed door which led to his private rooms behind the shop. All around them were the thousand different items which made up the stock of a village general shop — by the doors were bunches of harness and tack, scythes, hoes and spades tied together with twine; on the shelves were tobacco, vinegar, spices, sugar, rice, bottles of raw and refined alcohol, glasses, a pyramid of salt-blocks, a barrel of salted herrings and some stiff planks of dried cod leaning against it. From all this came a strong and rather disagreeable odour compounded principally of vinegar and tobacco with a strong dominant smell of the local aniseed-flavoured brandy.

When Balint opened the door of the shop a bell rang loudly above his head and Balint just had time to see the shopkeeper seize some bit of porcelain from Laszlo’s hands and whisk it out of sight. Only a bottle of plum brandy, and a single used glass, remained on the counter-top.

‘Well! And what brings you here?’ said Gyeroffy as soon as he saw who had come in. Balint could hear no sign of pleasure or welcome in his cousin’s voice, but rather a strong note of annoyance.

‘I came to see you. As you wouldn’t come to us it has to be a case of the mountain and Mohammed!’ Abady laughed good-humouredly. ‘So you see I’ve come to you.’

‘That old fool at the house could have come for me,’ growled Laszlo as he offered his cousin a glass of plum brandy. This Balint refused, with some impatience, saying, ‘If you’ve no further business here, we might as well leave, don’t you think?’

Gyeroffy looked hard at him.

‘No! I’ve nothing more to do here; and what there is can wait until this afternoon, can’t it, Bischitz? However I’ll have another dram even if you’re too grand to join me!’ and he swung himself round leaning on the counter in an obviously sulky temper. Bischitz refilled Laszlo’s glass, which the latter drained instantly before demanding another. When that too had been despatched the young man turned back and muttered, ‘Well, we can go now!’

Even so they did not leave at once for at this point the civic deputy came in. He too was looking for Count Gyeroffy.

‘This has come for you from the County Court,’ he said, handing Laszlo a sealed letter. Then he opened the book of receipts and said, ‘Sign here, please!’

‘Sign for me, Bischitz,’ said Laszlo, throwing down the official letter and refilling his glass. Abady glanced at the writing on the document which had fallen on the counter in front of him. He picked it up and looked inside. A man called E. Leo Kardos, resident of Budapest, had asked the court for a writ of seizure and the auction of Count Gyeroffy’s house and possessions.

‘But this is very serious!’ cried Balint. ‘Look! Everything goes to auction on April 15th!’

‘I’ve had lots of those,’ said Gyeroffy, before turning to the shopkeeper and saying, ‘Send it to Azbej, you know, like the others.’

Balint shook his head. He could hardly credit such fecklessness. ‘Perhaps it would be better if I took it to him?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll be seeing him tomorrow or the day after when I go to Denestornya.’