They Were Found Wanting (Writing on the Wall: The Transylvania Trilogy)

Home > Other > They Were Found Wanting (Writing on the Wall: The Transylvania Trilogy) > Page 5
They Were Found Wanting (Writing on the Wall: The Transylvania Trilogy) Page 5

by Bánffy, Miklós


  Deploring the general wickedness of the world she covered much the same ground as had the two housekeepers an hour or so before. The chief target that afternoon was Adrienne Miloth, wife of Pali Uzdy, who, declared Aunt Lizinka, was an incorrigible flirt who had set her cap at every man in their circle ever since she had come to town for the carnival season.

  ‘… and she’s not content – oh, dear me, no! – to turn the head of my poor nephew, Pityu Kendy, as she did last year, or of that great dumb Adam Alvinczy – and they are just two among a whole throng of others,’ croaked Aunt Lizinka in her guinea-fowl voice, ‘… so she’s now seduced my other nephew, Ambrus. Of course I haven’t seen it with my own eyes but Ambrus isn’t the sort of man to be satisfied by sweet talk alone. Oh no! I’m sure she’s put more in his mouth than honey-covered words. No doubt of it. Maybe they’re careful but it’s well-known that a stallion like Ambrus doesn’t stop at neighing. And what’s more – and I know it for a fact as my cook told me – that when poor Uzdy’s away Ambrus is always hanging about the house even if no one sees him.’

  The other ladies just listened, hardly uttering a word. Even Countess Laczok, whose sister was Adrienne’s mother, did not dare defend her niece since she too had marriageable daughters and was afraid of what Lizinka might start saying about them if she appeared to disagree. Eventually it was Countess Gyalakuthy who tried to put a stop to it.

  ‘All that’s as it may be,’ she said, ‘but it’s surely over, especially now that Akos Miloth’s wife has got so much worse in that clinic in Vienna. I hear her daughters have all gone to be with her.’

  ‘They left last week,’ Countess Laczok hastened to reply. ‘I’m afraid it’s bad news.’

  Countess Abady’s bulging grey eyes looked round the group from Aunt Lizinka to her son, who was sitting silently among the old ladies. There her glance lingered for a moment before she turned and spoke to the kindly, plump Countess Laczok.

  ‘I had heard that the poor thing’s not been well for some time.’

  ‘That’s for sure. And this time it’ll be the end!’ interrupted Aunt Lizinka who was dying to get back to her favourite theme. ‘And what’ll become of poor little Margit Miloth without a mother one can only imagine! Then she’ll only have Adrienne’s example to guide her!’

  A new visitor was announced. It was old Daniel Kendy who, in his old-fashioned and slightly worn morning coat, was still an impressive figure. Only his red nose showed how partial he was to the bottle.

  He bowed over Countess Abady’s hand.

  Balint seized the opportunity to offer Daniel his chair and walked swiftly into the adjoining room, his mouth set in a bitter line from all the innuendo and gossip he had been forced to listen to since lunch.

  In the smaller drawing-room were gathered all the girls and young men. The butler and a footman were serving coffee and whipped cream and handing round cakes on crystal plates. Every now and again the Countess’s two housekeepers would bring in more delicacies – Viennese Kuglhopf cake, éclairs and almond pastries – and would put on hurt expressions if everyone did not sample each new dish at least twice. Even so an obsequious, ingratiating smile never left their fat faces.

  Balint exchanged a few polite words with each of the guests in turn and was just answering someone’s question when Dodo Gyalakuthy came up to him and touched his arm.

  ‘AB!’ she said, for Balint was known to everyone in Kolozsvar by his initials. ‘I want to tell you something.’ She spoke urgently and quite loudly for the others were making a lot of noise. ‘Let’s sit somewhere in a corner where we won’t be disturbed.’

  Balint led her to two empty armchairs that were at the far end of the room and looked enquiringly at her as they sat down. Now Dodo seemed to hesitate before starting to speak in broken, disjointed phrases.

  ‘I know it really isn’t any of my business, but still, I think I must tell you … I think it’s my duty to tell you … he, he is your cousin …’ She paused and then, suddenly determined, she turned to face Abady. ‘It’s about Laszlo Gyeroffy!’ Now she spoke fluently and in a down-to-earth manner. She was quite specific and related succinctly what she had picked up from Laszlo during the last few months, and which she had cleverly reconstructed to form a true estimate of the situation. She explained how advantage had been taken of Gyeroffy’s lack of interest and apathy and of his total indifference to worldly matters, and that he had been persuaded to lease his entire property for an absurdly low sum that had been paid in advance and how, as a result, he now had practically nothing to live on. Advantage had been taken of his need and it was absolutely vile, what had been done to him. It was a wretched matter which shouldn’t be tolerated. No! It simply shouldn’t be tolerated!

  ‘But this is very serious,’ said Balint when Dodo had told her tale. ‘I suspected something of the sort but I didn’t know what was going on as for some time Laszlo has taken care to avoid me. However, if it’s all been done legally and Laszlo accepts it, I don’t see how it can be put right.’

  ‘But it can!’ interrupted Dodo triumphantly. ‘Don’t you see? The one who’s done all this to Laszlo is your agent. He’s called Azbej, or some such name. That’s why I’ve come to you. If you intervene, if you threaten him … why, he could go to prison for such villainy!’

  ‘Kristof Azbej? You really mean him, my mother’s lawyer? There are lots of people of that name?’

  ‘Oh, yes, it’s quite certain! They met at your place, at Denestornya.’ Dodo laughed: ‘…and that stupid Laszlo has even been led to believe that Azbej has made a great sacrifice to help him. Look, I’ve written down all the details as Gyeroffy related them to me. I think I’ve got them right!’

  She handed him a folded sheet of writing paper.

  ‘Something will be done about this. You can be sure of that,’ said Balint as soon as he had read Dodo’s notes, all his natural instinct to help others, that instinct that had caused him so much trouble in the past, now fully awakened. ‘I’ll send for the fellow at once. It’s unheard-of – and to one of our own relations on top of it all. I’m deeply grateful, Countess Dodo, that you’ve told me all this.’

  ‘It’s I who will thank you, if you do something!’ replied Dodo, blushing deeply as if she had inadvertently said something indecent. Then she got up abruptly and hurried into the big drawing-room.

  The young man remained for a moment standing in the centre of the room. Through the wide-open double doors he watched the girl go up to her mother and put her hand on her shoulder. The old lady got up at once and the two of them said their farewells and left.

  ‘That Dodo is a nice, clever girl,’ thought Balint. ‘How good she would be for Laszlo! She’d keep him in order all right!’ Then he turned his thoughts to Azbej, deciding that he would send a telegram summoning the man to come and see him. Then he would question him and if he discovered that what he had been told was true, then, and only then, would he tell his mother. It was unthinkable that one of her trusted employees should do such a monstrous thing. The man should be thrown out at once.

  The same afternoon he sent a wire to Azbej at Denestornya: ‘COME IMMEDIATELY’.

  In the morning there was no sign of the man but after lunch Countess Roza asked her son, ‘You have sent for Azbej? May I ask why?’

  Balint was somewhat surprised by the question, wondering if someone was spying on him by reading his telegrams. His tone in replying was therefore rather more short than was called for. ‘Yes, I have something to ask him.’

  ‘Well, what is it? Is it about the forests or about your constituency?’

  ‘Neither, Mama. I want to ask him about something quite different. I’m not even sure it really concerns us at all.’

  ‘And I would like to know why you have sent for one of my employees. After all, I think I have a right to know,’ interrupted Countess Roza coldly, and turned on the sofa so that she was facing her son. Clearly she was expecting a full account, and so Balint found himself forced, contrary to his instinct
and intention, to tell her what he had heard about the lease of Gyeroffy’s property.

  As he was telling the story to his mother he glanced at the two housekeepers, thinking that it was really rather a mistake to discuss such matters in front of them. Tothy and Baczo, however, sat tightly in their seats, stiff and upright as two large wooden idols, knitting away furiously with downcast eyes. It looked for all the world as if their attention was totally concentrated on their work as they changed needles with dizzying speed.

  ‘That would certainly be a vile thing indeed, if it’s true! But how did you come to hear about it?’ asked Roza Abady when her son had completed his story.

  ‘I’m sorry, but that I can’t tell you.’

  ‘From that good-for-nothing Laszlo, I presume?’

  ‘No. Not from him.’

  ‘From whom then? Some anonymous mischief-maker?’

  ‘You must forgive me, Mama, but I cannot betray a confidence.’

  ‘So it’s a confidence, is it? And you can’t even tell me! All right, but I must tell you that your dear father taught me never to listen to informers. I never have, and I never shall!’

  The old lady did not speak for some moments. Then she lifted her head with the gesture of an autocrat, and gave her orders: ‘When you have finished speaking with Azbej, send him to me.’

  So the matter was closed for that day.

  Balint spent the rest of the afternoon visiting Staniszlo Gyeroffy, Laszlo’s former guardian, to find out details of the Kozard property.

  The next day towards noon the round little lawyer bowed his way into Balint’s study.

  ‘At your Lordship’s most humble service, and begging your Lordship’s pardon for not coming here at once, but the telegram was only put in my hands late last night on my return from the county court in Torda where I was attending a matter of great importance for the most Gracious Countess. I am indeed ashamed for the delay.’

  The words poured out from his little red-lipped smiling mouth, which looked surprisingly soft and melting in the middle of his bristly hedgehog face. His large plum-shaped eyes looked balefully at Abady who was sitting behind his desk.

  ‘Sit down!’ ordered Balint curtly.

  Azbej went to fetch a small chair from beside the wall, even though there was an armchair nearer at hand. Moreover he only sat on the edge of it, though it was not clear if he did this out of respect or because he was forced to by the shortness of his legs. He placed his two hairy hands on his knees like an attentive pupil summoned to his teacher.

  ‘A year ago you took a ten-year lease of the Szamos-Kozard property from Count Laszlo Gyeroffy?’

  ‘Indeed that is so, your Lordship. Or, to be strictly accurate, it was not I but my wife. I used her dowry to pay ten years’ rent in advance. I myself, if your Lordship pleases, would not have possessed such a large sum. Where would I have found it? His Lordship Count Gyeroffy needed a substantial sum in a hurry and I could think of no other way to solve the problem and to be of service to the Noble Count’s family. It was a pleasure to be in a position to do it.’

  ‘I can readily believe that! You made a fat profit on the deal! For those 90,000 crowns you obtained not only 1,800 acres of prime farm land and 300 acres of grazing but also the entire stock and farm equipment on top of it all, did you not?’

  What could be seen of Azbej’s cheeks between the tufts of black beard reddened visibly. He was not prepared for Balint’s being so well-informed.

  ‘That all had to be bought in if we were to give the Noble Count what he wanted … and, if your Lordship pleases, as I was managing my wife’s little property, you see, this … and in any case, the stock and farm equipment were hardly worth mentioning, with respect to your Lordship …’ And he started to explain that most of the bullocks were old, that there were very few cows or young calves in the herd, hardly a pig, that the flocks of sheep were all mixed breeds. He spat out figures and sale prices with ever-increasing speed and then added: ‘… and most of those were so poor they had to be sold or replaced. That too was a terrible expense!’ Then he added and subtracted more figures in a confused rush, his technique being to dazzle by a display of acrobatic mathematics. And all the while he was closely watching Abady’s face to see if there were any signs of his relenting.

  Balint’s expression remained hard. He let Azbej speak on until at last the little lawyer himself became muddled by the rush of his own eloquence and brought his monologue to an end, wiping his forehead which by now was dripping with perspiration.

  A short silence followed. At last Abady spoke. ‘You will please provide me with all the figures. I wish to have an exact account of the whole transaction … in detail. I warn you that I will check every single fact. As it is I must tell you that I have no doubt, no doubt at all, that my cousin Gyeroffy made a very poor deal and that you made a very good one. And I find it intolerable that you should speculate in this way, especially with a member of our family. However, we’ll see when you produce the figures. One thing more: what you have said about the farm equipment is not true. During Count Gyeroffy’s minority, which ended only a year and a half ago, Kozard was a model farm and the equipment alone was worth more than you paid for the whole deal. I have proof of that.’

  The fat little lawyer jumped up, gabbling, ‘I beg of his Gracious Lordship please to believe that I only wished to be of service. I really … and recently I haven’t had a minute to look into the lease since every moment of my time is spent in his Noble Lordship’s service, indeed all my life … But I’ll look into everything at once. It was all done so hurriedly that the figures were only approximate… just to help out the Noble Count. I’m not sure of the exact figures, all I’ve said is from memory, but I’ll check it all at once … and I’ll be glad to hand it all over to whosoever your Lordship desires. Indeed I wouldn’t mind giving up the lease altogether if my wife can have her money returned. Oh, I’d give it up willingly!’

  It was obvious to Balint that the lawyer had had a good scare.

  ‘Very well. In a week’s time you will provide me with full details, a clear picture of the whole matter. Now go to my mother. She too wishes to see you. Good day!’

  ‘I beg his Lordship to accept my humble farewell!’ The hirsute little man made a deep bow, bending almost to the ground, and backed to the doorway. As he bowed again before going out a little hopeful glimmer might have been seen in his half-closed eyes. ‘I go at once to wait upon the gracious Countess!’

  And he disappeared.

  ‘That deal with Azbej was not at all as you related it,’ said Countess Roza severely to her son after lunch. ‘He didn’t only pay the sum you were told about, but far more and at several different times. And he only did it to help that unfortunate Laci. He even borrowed from his brother-in-law as he didn’t have enough himself.’

  ‘His brother-in-law? That’s the first I’ve heard of it!’

  ‘Yes, his brother-in-law provided the money. Azbej said so.’

  ‘My dear Mama, are you going to believe what that man says? He tried to tell me lies too, but I don’t believe a word of it!’

  ‘And why not, may I ask? Why not?’ said Countess Roza angrily. ‘I’ve dealt with the man for years and I’ve never caught him in a lie. Though I did put him to the test once or twice!’ Then she turned to the two housekeepers, who were sitting opposite her, busily knitting as usual. ‘You two know all the facts. Didn’t we check up on Azbej’s deals, several times? Well? Speak up! Isn’t it so?’

  ‘Indeed we did, your Ladyship!’ said Tothy.

  ‘Yes, indeed!’ said Baczo. And they continued their knitting in silence.

  Balint shrugged his shoulders, but before he had had time to open his mouth to reply his mother turned angrily towards him. ‘And I will thank you not to shrug your shoulders at me, young man. You have accused one of my employees on mere tittle-tattle; and you don’t even dare to say where it came from.’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t dare, it’s merely that I cannot
break a confidence.’

  ‘That’s quite enough reason for me not to take any of this seriously. As I told you before, I never have and I never will, as your dear father taught me! I wish only to say this: I am deeply hurt that you give more weight to the word of some secret informer than to that of your mother. I would never have expected it of you, never!’

  Countess Abady fell silent. Then she stretched out to the Chinese lacquer bowl in which she kept her needlework, her white, chubby little hands scrabbling around in agitation. Balint got up.

  ‘But, dear Mama, there’s no question of that! I don’t mean that I don’t believe you …!’

  He tried to take her hand to kiss it, but she drew it away. ‘I don’t want to hear any more about it! Now go away; this whole affair has upset me deeply. We will not speak of it again!’

  For several days relations between Balint and his mother were icy. Several times the young man tried to broach the subject, but his mother always refused to listen. Therefore, although he continued to take his meals at home it was only out of a sense of duty, and he went out as soon as he was able to get away. He found it unbearable to look at his mother’s withdrawn expression, and even more unbearable to have to suffer the continual presence of the two fat housekeepers who, even though they spoke only when spoken to, sat constantly with Countess Abady like two female prison warders. So every day, when released from the bondage of mealtimes, he would wander round to the Casino Club and play Tarok for pennies with old gentlemen out of sheer boredom. Every day the town grew emptier.

  It was on one of these days that the news arrived that Countess Miloth had died in Vienna; it was the only social news that interested Balint. On the other hand the political news did arouse his interest. Apponyi had presented his proposals for a new compulsory education law. Several minority members did all they could to obstruct the measure and it seemed that the debates were degenerating into mere inconclusive bickering. It was while reading these accounts in the newspapers that Balint, on the spur of the moment, decided to go back to Budapest. I can’t stay here any more, he said to himself. It’ll be better for everyone if I go away!

 

‹ Prev