They Were Counted (44 page)

The following morning Abonyi, who surprisingly took Balint’s cause very much to heart, went to see him and related that it had been decided that Pityu Kendy should ask for a further
explanation
before he would agree to be satisfied.

‘Really, this is nothing but tomfoolery! You’ve given a perfectly adequate answer and that should be an end of it! Have his seconds called yet?’ asked Tihamer with good-hearted indignation.

He had hardly spoken when Major Bogacsy and Egon Wickwitz were announced. Dressed in black coats they advanced ceremoniously into the room and sat down, side by side like twins, upon a sofa. Then Bogacsy started to speak:

‘We are here to represent our good friend Count Peter Kendy. He is not satisfied with the answer you gave him yesterday and demands a precise explanation. Did Count Abady intend to
offend
him or not?’

‘I gave my answer yesterday,’ replied Abady with a disdainful gesture, ‘and I have no intention of saying anything further.’

‘Then I must ask you to name your seconds!’ cried the assessor of the Court of Chancery with all too apparent joy; and he jumped to his feet with all the precision of a toy soldier on springs. Wickwitz followed suit, faithfully copying every move his leader made. Balint looked at them with cold displeasure. He found it derisive that Wickwitz, who had acted so dishonourably with Dinora, should now be setting himself up as a defender of
someone
else’s honour. Too angry to reply, he turned to Tihamer.

‘Count Abonyi! I should be honoured if you would accept this challenge on my behalf and choose someone to assist you in the matter.’

Abonyi was delighted. ‘Naturally! I’m most gratified. I will do so willingly, but who do you wish me to choose?’

‘Oh, I don’t care. Perhaps Gazsi … or anyone else you can find. I leave it all to you.’

Kendy’s seconds took their leave, stiffly and formally, and Abonyi hurried out after them, full of zeal. Balint remained alone.

‘What an absurd situation!’ he said to himself as he walked up and down in his room.

 

Abonyi returned at midday saying that in his opinion the choice of weapons should be theirs as they were the offended party. Their opponents, however, disagreed, maintaining that as they had issued the challenge, the choice was theirs.

‘I won’t give in over this,’ insisted Abonyi. ‘As I said yesterday the most important thing for me is your best interest. I’m
determined
to establish an “act of violence” on Kendy’s part. The glass proves it! Therefore I’ve insisted on pistols as is clearly prescribed by the Code Duverger. I don’t want to speak about swords unless the exchange of pistol shots has no results. They don’t want to
accept
this, so what do you think I’ve done?’

‘What have you done?’ asked Balint with a smile, thinking that the whole matter was becoming increasingly absurd.

‘I’ve demanded that a Court of Honour and Arms be
convened
!’ said Tihamer triumphantly. ‘They won’t decide until lunch-time, or by early afternoon at the latest, so that the duel can take place before dark. Where can I find you after lunch?’

They agreed to meet at the Casino at three o’clock.

 

Balint had lunch at home with his mother. He kept her amused by recounting many little incidents that had occurred at the ball until Countess Roza was laughing happily, pleased to know what was going on in the world but thankful she had not had to be there in person. After they had drunk their coffee Balint rose and took his leave. When he was sure that his mother could not see him he beckoned to Mrs Baczo to follow him. She put down her knitting needles and got up, but left the room by the little service door that led to the back passages of the house. Balint was just wondering if the old housekeeper had misunderstood him, or had gone that way so as not to arouse her mistress’ suspicions, when Mrs Baczo appeared in the hall.

‘At your Lordship’s service!’ she said with a small curtsy.

‘Look, Baczone,’ he said hesitantly, searching for the right words. ‘Everyone gossips so much … It’s possible that … I wouldn’t want my mother to be worried …’

‘I know all about it, my Lord! Indeed, the whole town knows, my Lord! A duel! God forbid!’

‘I don’t think my mother knows yet, and I want to make sure she hears nothing.’

‘Your Lordship can set his mind at rest. Naturally! You can be sure of that! We’ve already warned all the servants to keep their mouths shut, and the porter has been told not to admit any callers to the Gracious Countess. We’ll watch over her, never fear!’

 

Reassured by this Balint went to the Casino. There he found an unusually large number of hats and coats in the hall and realized that many people had come in solely to hear the latest news about the impending duel. Not wishing to run the gauntlet of enquiring glances in the billiard and smoking-rooms, he went by a back way directly to the library and sat down at the end of the long reading table from where he would have a direct view through the adjoining room and would be able to see the arrival of his
seconds
when they came in search of him. To pass the time he started to glance at an illustrated magazine that lay on the table. After a few moments Pityu Kendy came in, also trying to get away from the impertinent glances of the curious. When he saw Abady
already
there he paused in slight confusion, and then, not wanting to draw attention to his presence, he sat down at the far end of the table from where Abady was sitting. The latter, engrossed in his magazine, had not noticed Pityu’s arrival and so they sat there, for some time, Balint reading, unaware of Pityu’s presence and Pityu gazing sadly at him. No one in the smoking-room had noticed.

From where Balint and Pityu sat the noisy group in the smoking-room could be heard but not seen, since all the men who were so eagerly discussing whether pistols or swords should be the choice of weapons were gathered round the fireplace in the far corner of the room. From the library it was only possible to
distinguish
occasional words when someone got excited and started shouting; old Rattle, forthright as ever telling some young man not to be idiotic, or Uncle Ambrus growling that true Hungarians only fought with swords and that ‘if it was my duel I’d cut off his balls’, though the obscene end of the sentence was swallowed up by a roar of laughter.

One man took no part in the general discussion. This was Pal Uzdy, who reclined in an armchair well apart from the others and in full view of Balint, his long legs crossed in front of him,
appearing
to take no notice of what else was going on in the room. He lay back in silence holding his watch-chain in his left hand, the watch itself swinging like a pendulum in front of his face. As the watch swung to and fro he would narrow his right eye and close his left just as he did when taking aim through a gunsight.

As the argument at the fireplace became more heated, young Kamuthy began backing away from the others until he was standing in the centre of the room under the chandelier. He was of the sword party and took great pleasure in insisting on his point of view in a high-pitched voice, lisping out his arguments with unusual vigour.

‘What, the thword ithn’t a theriouth weapon! I deny thith motht thtrongly! Ethpecially now afther old Keglevich wath killed in Budapetht; he wath killed on the thpot, on the thpot! Ithn’t that theriouth enough?’ With every phrase he would raise his fat little body on tiptoe in emphasis. Balint could see him and found the sight irresistibly funny. As he watched, he saw Uzdy suddenly leap to his feet his hand reaching for his jacket pocket.

‘This only is serious!’ said Uzdy in a tone of hard mockery, and raising his right arm towards the ceiling he let off the
Browning
automatic he had just taken from his pocket. In the
chandelier
a bulb shattered with an almost simultaneous explosion, and pieces of glass rained down on the head of Isti, who jumped aside in fright.

‘God Almighty! – Christ, what an idiot! – That’s going too far!’ and other such remarks could be heard from some of the
fireplace
group while others just doubled up with mirth. Uzdy laughed derisively and flung himself back in his chair, his
expression
one of satanic amusement at a job well done.

Tihamer and Gazsi arrived just as the shot went off. Tihamer was startled but pulled himself together and went up to the others shaking his head gravely, as it was an unwritten law that a second must at all times remain calm and avoid any sign of excitement or distress. He looked around him as if nothing had happened and then, seeing that Abady was in the next room, moved
unhurriedly
to the library to join him. Only when he had sat down did he say quietly to Balint: ‘Uzdy must be mad! What a thing to do, letting off a pistol in the club!’ and he wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.

‘He always carries a gun. But you must admit he’s a good shot!’ said Baron Gazsi, laughing as he came up behind Tihamer.

At the far end of the library Major Bogacsy appeared and went straight to where Pityu Kendy was sitting. Abonyi got up and bowed to them ceremoniously and then, turning back to Abady, broached the subject for which he had come.

The Court of Honour and Arms, he explained, had reached a decision. The ruling was that there had been offence on both sides for which satisfaction must depend on a duel with swords, to be fought until one party at least was disabled. As it was too late to fight on that day the seconds had agreed that the meeting would be held on the following morning at eight o’clock precisely.

‘You know how to fence, don’t you?’ asked Tihamer. ‘If you’re a bit rusty, or need some training, I’d gladly go with you to the gymnasium. It’s only a quarter past four, so we’ve time for a practise session.’

Balint looked at the clock; he had thought it must be much later.

‘No, thank you,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk!’

‘Shall I come with you?’ asked Tihamer good-naturedly.

‘It’s good of you, but no thank you. I really ought to go and see my mother first!’

Abonyi made a slight bow and shook Balint’s hand warmly.

‘I quite understand. Oh, indeed I do!’ He thought that Balint wanted to be alone to say goodbye to his mother; but that was not what Abady had in mind. As soon as he left the Casino he went towards the main square which was in the opposite direction to his mother’s house.

Immediately Tihamer had told him that there would be no duel that day he had decided to go to Adrienne. Her husband was still in the Club and her mother-in-law away in Meran and so he was sure that if he went quickly he would be sure to find her at home alone. He was convinced that her illness had only been an excuse, but even so she would not have gone out if she wanted to keep up the deception. Also it was certain that she would have heard something about this idiotic duel as the whole town was talking of nothing else. It was an ideal opportunity for him to see her. Perhaps she was even a little worried on his behalf. He would be foolish not to take advantage of the situation.