Miklós Bánffy - They Were Counted

‘You must excuse me, Prefect, but our old friend is quite right. Allow me to clarify the problem …’

The lawyer’s calm and lucid explanation smoothed down the rising tempers of the others. He paused for an instant and then the puffy young Isti Kamuthy spoke up, his lisp all the more pronounced as he tried to get his word in before anyone else.

‘Thatth just what I thought, at home in Burgozthd. Then I thought I was thtupid. Now I thee I am not tho thtupid!’

‘You were right the first time, in Burgozthd!’ Old Crookface shouted. Everyone laughed, even young Isti, though he did not know why.

Then, as the laughter died down and everyone seemed calmer, the banker Weissfeld started again. Balint rose quietly, touched Gyeroffy on the shoulder and unobtrusively moved out from under the tree. All this narrow-minded, prejudiced, dogmatic talk got on his nerves. Even the prefect, whom he admired, brought only clichés and worn-out legalistic quibbles to the discussion. Laszlo joined him as they walked away.

Slowly they made their way back to the terrace. It was growing dark. Between the small corner tower and the library a small door opened onto steps that led down to the rose garden. They went this way but did not speak until they had left the terrace. It was as if they both felt the need for the quiet privacy of the garden before starting to talk, so many months had passed since their last meeting. Balint still felt dazed by the useless clamour of the politicians and he reflected ruefully on the very different experiences he had had while abroad on mission. He thought of the methodic logical work that had gone into the preparations for the commercial treaty with Italy, and of the barely disguised contempt expressed by foreigners, especially by the Austrians and Germans, for the fuss that Hungary was making about Austrian control of the united armies. To them the security of the Dual Monarchy depended on the unification of the armed forces, and this was being foolishly undermined by the Hungarians. In the context of world politics the Hungarian attitude was short-sighted and meaningless. Of course foreigners knew nothing of Hungary’s past and they could not understand why the Hungarians loathed and resented the integration of their army with that of Austria. Balint’s ardent national feelings had been outraged every time he had heard his countrymen laughed at and misunderstood.

Laszlo’s thoughts were very different. He had barely listened to the argument under the lime tree. Politics were not for him, and in any case his mind was far away, on matters more important to him.

The meeting with all these friends and relations today at the races, and again at Var-Siklod, had reawakened in Laszlo that old feeling of being an outsider. It was odd how even in Transylvania he did not feel a part of the group. This sense of not belonging went everywhere with him. Here, as at his aunt’s place in Budapest, everywhere, it was the same. The grown man still carried with him the aura of his orphaned childhood. He was alien, a foreigner; politely welcomed perhaps, but never completely accepted.

How he yearned to be loved — and loved for himself, not just for what he could do to amuse and entertain, not for his excellent dancing, not because he could play the piano so well, providing waltzes and foxtrots that all could dance to; not because he was a good shot and an excellent fourth at tennis. When he visited his Kollonich or Szent-Gyorgyi relations in West Hungary, all his cousins seemed overjoyed when he came, tried to make him prolong his stay and were sad when he left. But still Laszlo sensed that it was only for these superficial reasons and not because they really understood and liked him.

Of all these cousins there was only Klara, who was about his own age — and she was not really a cousin at all as she was the daughter of Prince Kollonich’s first marriage — who seemed to see more in him than the others. Only she was interested in what he thought rather than what he did. Even when they were still very young they would pair off in team games, the two of them against the others. Klara was different; but her half-brother, his aunt’s sons, and the two Szent-Gyorgyi boys? He doubted very much if they saw anything more in him than an amusing cousin who was good at tennis.

This was why he was so pleased to see Balint again, why he had squeezed his arm in friendly greeting when Balint had sat down next to him under the lime tree. Since they had both been young, since as long as he could remember, Balint had been his only true friend, who understood him and from whom he hid nothing, and so when, as the twentieth century approached, they talked of their futures it was only to Balint that Laszlo confessed his determination to be a musician.

To Balint he poured out his seemingly fantastic hopes of writing great operas and symphonies that would seduce the whole world. And to Balint too he had recounted all his difficulties with his Uncle Staniszlo Gyeroffy who the court had appointed to be his legal guardian until he came of age. Uncle Staniszlo, who was no real uncle but only a distant relation, had absolutely vetoed Laszlo’s musical studies and forced him instead into the law school. There had been a stormy scene between them when he had left school, and Laszlo had then recounted to Balint his deep resentment when the old man had said: ‘While I am your guardian I won’t allow anything so idiotic. When you’re of age you can do any foolishness you like!’ Laszlo was recalling all this as he stepped down into the rose garden. Balint turned to him, as if in answer to his thoughts, and asked:

‘You came of age last March. What are you going to do?’

‘I’m entering the Academy of Music in Budapest. I’m going back in a few days.’

‘And the university exams?’

Laszlo laughed. ‘Devil take them! What do I care? I’m going to do what I want at long last. I only came here to take over the estate. And that’s a nasty business I can tell you … and very complicated if you have to deal with old Carrots …’ This was Laszlo’s nickname for his guardian who always wore an obvious red-blond wig.

‘Why complicated?’

‘Oh, Lord! He says he’s invested a lot of his own money in the property and he wants to be paid back before he’ll hand it over! Not that I’ve got any money … none at all. All I’ve got is debts! Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out somehow,’ said Laszlo, laughing …

‘Debts?’

‘Not many. A few thousand crowns … to a money-lender, of course. I couldn’t live on what old Carrots allowed me.’

‘Well, you’ll have to settle them. There’s nothing worse than owing money.’

‘Oh, I will. Somehow. Everything would be quite simple if I could sell the wood from my part of the Gyeroffy forests. The problem is that I only have a one-third share with Uncle Staniszlo … and he’s got other plans, some sort of industrial project he’s dead keen on, the stubborn old fool! Oh! For heaven’s sake let’s not talk about anything so boring! I’m so glad to see you, Balint!

And taking him by the arm, he started to tell him how he had been received by the music professors, what they thought about his playing and what they had said about his compositions, some of which Balint had heard. Carried away by his enthusiasm Laszlo talked and talked as they walked up and down between the long-stemmed roses. It was almost dark. Only in the western sky was there still a rose-red glow, while in the east the moon rose, so full and bright that deep shadows were cast by the castle walls, enveloping the garden where they talked.

As Laszlo and Balint passed the entrance to the castle they met a group of guests descending the steps. They were already dressed for the evening, the women in low-cut gowns and the men in stiff shirts which shone white in the moonlight like shooting targets. Though they were silhouetted against the sunset Balint saw at once that among them was Adrienne Miloth. Her face was in shadow, but he could not fail to recognize her Diana-like stride and the outline of her head with the wavy dark hair weaving wild arabesques around the perfect oval of her face. She had her two sisters with her and they were accompanied by two young men.