Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

Balint strode through the park filling his lungs with the fresh air of the early morning and his heart with renewed hope for the fulfilment of his love for Adrienne. The giant trees around him were like motionless giants of lilac-coloured shadow and at their feet was here and there a patch of still unmelted snow. Little streams were flowing in all directions over the turf, softening the earth and preparing the way for the upsurge of new blades of grass, of flowers and weeds, now lying dormant underfoot. Nature was preparing to renew itself, to rise once again to confront the future, with her eternal strength. In the air of the coming day there floated imperceptibly the scent of renewing life, of fecund spring itself. As Balint strode so confidently towards home his whole being was celebrating not only the coming undisputed possession of the woman he loved but also that thought which had sprung unbidden to his lips only an hour or so ago: Adrienne would bear him a son.

When finally Balint emerged from the avenue of trees he decided to make a further detour before approaching his home. He would take, he thought, a path through the little winding streets of the medieval part of the town, thus avoiding the main square and any possibility of meeting any acquaintance on their way home from a night of carousing with the gypsies.

Just as he was about to turn the corner into the old Bridge Street a carriage drawn by four horses tore at great speed down the main road. The horses were flecked with sweat and the roof of the carriage had been raised against the cold wind. If there were anyone inside they could not be seen, and anyway Balint was too far away to distinguish anything clearly. As he emerged from the gloom of the narrow little street the carriage was already disappearing round the corner of the market. It had all happened in a flash, and Balint did not pay much attention to the incident, though his mind registered it, just as a fleeting impression, because such a thing was so unusual. No one normally arranged to arrive from the country at such an unholy hour.

Adrienne was sleeping deeply when somewhere a door opened and light streamed into the room. She woke instantly and without moving her head from the pillows opened her eyes. The light was coming from the door to her bathroom which was just opposite the foot of her bed, and in the doorway stood Uzdy in fur coat and hat.

At first Adrienne thought she must be dreaming, so improbable did it seem that Uzdy who had left for the country only a few hours before, should now actually be there, in her room.

But in a moment his arm shot out, as if he were pointing at her. Something flashed in his hands and there were three sudden explosions that cracked as sharply as a whiplash. Three bullets crashed into the wall above her head and Adrienne realized instantly that her husband was shooting at her. As if jerked by an invisible spring Adrienne sat up and faced her husband totally disregarding that there must be two more bullets in the little Browning. If those two shots were fired she would now be a direct target.

Adrienne cared nothing for that. She merely stared at her husband, her chin held high and her wide-open eyes filled with scorn. She said nothing; she merely looked at him. Between her full lips her teeth shone white, and the wild black curls of her hair twisted round her head like the snakes of Medusa. Adrienne waited; there had to be two more bullets for her. For a few moments they stared at each other in silence.

Then Uzdy lowered her arm.

‘ Alle Ehre! — congratulations — I call that real courage! Really! Alle Achtung — all my respects — really!’ He pocketed his weapon and in an instant was back in the doorway, bowing from the waist with a curious ironic stiffness, his beanpole figure bending so deeply that he almost gave the impression of being snapped in two at the waist. Laughing uncontrollably he repeated over and over, ‘That’s something! That really is something!’

And Adrienne realized that this demonic laughter resembled nothing more than that of a naughty child after a successful practical joke.

‘Are you mad?’ asked Adrienne coldly.

Uzdy did not reply, but merely turned on his heel and left the room, closing the door behind him. His laughter could still be heard coming from the room beyond.

Then there was a moment’s silence before, from the courtyard, came the jingle of harness and the clatter of horses’ hoofs. Uzdy’s four-horse carriage must be turning towards the gates. For a little while could be heard the rattle of the wheels on the cobble-stones, then it grew fainter and finally died away altogether. Count Uzdy had left as abruptly as he had arrived.

Adrienne remained sitting up in bed for a long time. Only now, when all danger had passed, did her heartbeats begin to pound in her throat and the terrible thought came to her that perhaps Uzdy had now had himself driven to the Abady house and that there were still two more bullets in his gun.

She jumped quickly out of bed, ran into the freezing drawing-room next door and hastily scribbled a few lines:

U was here this morning! He is quite mad. He’s gone now, but I don’t know where!Be very careful! I’llgo for a walk this afternoon. If nothing has happened before then you ’ ll findme inthe main square .

Then she rang the bell. It was some time before her maid, Jolan, appeared. The old woman’s room was far away in the main house and, as it was still very early, she was not yet properly awake. By the time she reached Adrienne’s apartments her mistress was once more in her bed.

‘Please take this at once to the Abady house in Farkas Street. Tell them to hand it immediately to Count Balint. If he is sleeping then they must wake him. I need an answer.’

Three quarters of an hour went by and each minute of waiting was a torture to the woman lying there in her bed. The church clock had already struck eight by the time that Jolan returned, but as, when she entered the room, her expression was unclouded by worry, Adrienne stopped worrying. Clearly nothing untoward had happened and so AB’s visiting card, on which he had scribbled ‘All right!’ in English, was hardly necessary.

Necessary or not Adrienne felt comforted. She barely glanced at the card and in a few moments was asleep.

There was no opportunity for her to tell him anything as they walked together in the town, for young Margit was with them. Later, back at the Uzdy villa, it was the same because several people, including the Laczok girls, Adam Alvinczy and Pityu Kendy, dropped in for tea.

All Adrienne could do, when chatting about the bazaar, was to give special meaning to the phrase ‘just like yesterday’ by glancing at Balint as she spoke and looking straight into his eyes. In return, to show that he had understood she had some special message for him, he dropped his eyelids for a brief moment and turned his head away. This had become a long-established technique between them when other people were present and there was no chance of talking privately.

Uzdy did not return from the country that day and so Balint was able to come to her room at night. Adrienne showed him the three round bullet-holes in the cream-coloured wallpaper above the bed. Lying there upon the bed they calculated that had Balint been there the previous night the bullets would have passed straight through his chest; and leaning backwards on her elbows Adrienne lay back pretending to lie just where Uzdy would have shot Balint through the heart.