They Were Counted (98 page)

He had to obey her, give her up, go far away from where she was, disappear from her life. Poor, poor Addy! She had been right; there was no other way open to them.

 

At last, after driving along roads bordered by orange groves and gardens filled with spring flowers, azaleas and camellias, he
arrived
at the little hotel beside the bay. The colour of the sea was as blue as a picture postcard, and all around him nature seemed to mock his anguish by displays of healthy, luxuriant growth, as if telling him that the world was indifferent to his pain and, no
matter
who fell by the wayside, life still renewed itself annually and eternally.

Countess Roza received him in her room. She had been angry that he had stayed away so long, making her wait three whole weeks for his return and she was sure that the excuses he made in his one short letter were nothing more than awkward pretexts to conceal a truth he did not want to reveal. As she was getting ready to receive her son she decided to teach him a lesson and at every sound outside the room she glared balefully at the door with a carefully prepared expression of disapproval. When, however, the door finally opened and her son appeared, everything was changed in an instant. With one glance she saw in the tenseness of the young man’s face the expression of one who had been in hell. Countess Roza had never seen her son like this before. Looking at him, she knew at once that this was a man in torment and all her thoughts of his neglect of her vanished as if they had never been. She was flooded by a mother’s anxiety, ran to the door to greet him, lay her head on his shoulder, her tiny hands holding him closely to her, so moved that all she could say was: ‘My little one … my son … my own little boy…’

 

On their way back they stopped for two or three days at Milan, Verona and Venice; and wherever they went, to museums, palaces, picture galleries, to churches and in their hotel at
mealtimes
, Countess Abady discreetly studied her son. She asked no questions and she knew no details, apart from the fact that he had stayed longer than planned at Kolozsvar – and from the reports of the two housekeepers who had not failed to tell their mistress not only who was staying in town but also the fact that – Lord preserve them! – Count Balint seldom came home before dawn. Countess Roza had built up a picture for herself, a picture of what had been happening. She, of course, knew no details and mostly was far from the truth; but of one thing she was certain and that was that it was Adrienne, that wicked, wicked Adrienne, who was the reason for her son’s desperate unhappiness. It was she, that selfish, depraved, wicked woman, who had caused this terrible change in her beloved son; and the heart of the tyrannical old chatelaine of Denestornya was filled with hatred and the desire for vengeance on the creature who was responsible.

They arrived at Budapest at the end of March and there they parted, Countess Roza travelling on alone to Transylvania. Not for a moment did the old lady try to persuade her son to come with her. Not a word did she utter. Let him stay in Budapest, she had no need of him at home. She would go back to Denestornya, and later, when spring came, he would join her there. ‘Until then, my darling, you stay here and enjoy yourself. I’ll be all right. Don’t mind me!’ and she travelled on home alone, something she had never done before.

 

The political atmosphere was quite different from what it had been when Balint had left Budapest in February. Now, by a
sudden
volte-face, the leaders of the Andrassy and people’s parties had to accept what they had so often and so publicly rejected. A pact had been made and a new ministry formed. Apart from the three portfolios reserved for nomination by the king – these were the positions of Minister of War, Minister of Croatian Affairs, and the sovereign’s personal representative, the Minister
a
latere
 – the cabinet was to consist of three members of the 1848 Party and three members of the 1867 Party, all of whom had voted for the universal suffrage measure. Thus everyone who had opposed the liberalization of voting rights would be excluded.

However, matters did not turn out quite as everyone had feared. That same afternoon Kossuth called a meeting of the
central
committee of the coalition parties so that he could present and explain the projected agreement.

No one expected what was to follow.

The leaders of the Constitution party and of the People’s Party both announced that they too accepted Kristoffy’s universal
suffrage
measure.

For a moment there was consternation, until everyone present grasped that though it had been a great sacrifice for these astute politicians suddenly to agree to something they believed
dangerous
and against the national interest, they had taken this course so as to exclude from office those time-servers who were prepared to ignore the will of the people provided they could be seen to bend the knee to the Emperor. They agreed also so that if the
universal
suffrage became a reality the running of the state would still be in their own experienced hands. The mood changed
immediately
. The skies had cleared and now, suddenly everyone ran about in joy and ecstasy shouting that victory had come, that everything they had always wanted was now theirs. Victory!
Victory
! At last! Never mind if there were no separate army, no
Hungarian
words of command, no sword-tassels in national colours, never mind if the economic union with Austria remained as strong as ever with no independence for the banks or customs: these issues, of course, were merely postponed. Everyone agreed that a clever formula had been found which upheld the rule of law. Everything was now legal again and so everyone’s face was saved, though no one would have admitted it.

Flags were hoisted all over town and speeches were made to the gathering crowds from the balcony of every party
headquarters
. The politicians shouted their triumph and the populace roared their approval. El Dorado, the Promised Land, call it what you will, had that day been found in Budapest.

 

Balint himself was relieved that at least some solution had been found to that dangerous and unhealthy situation which had threatened the stability of the state. His own position was not
affected
, for Ordung, the sheriff who had been suspended and who was now Prefect of Maros-Torda, did not want any change of member. Ordung had realized that it would not be easy to oppose Abady and so he decided to concentrate all his efforts on the northern part of the district, where until now old Miklos Absolon had held absolute sway. In this he had been supported by Aunt Lizinka, who never let drop her enmity for Absolon and who now came forward as the self-appointed figurehead of the new order. Balint she protected and approved of because, on the eve of the assembly at Vasarhely, he had been her escort when she had tried to enlist that no-good Tamas Laczok, and also because he had shouted ‘Scum!’ at the rioters in the egg battle.

At the same Balint was not happy. There were two things that disturbed him. The first was a phrase in a recent letter from Slawata who wrote: ‘
Was
wird
bei
dieser
Lösung
mit
der
Wehrbarkeit
der
Monarchie
–
what
effect
will
all
this
have
on
the
defence
structure
of
the
Dual
Monarchy?
It
is
dangerous
to
keep
on
postponing
bringing
our
armies
up
to
date.
We
alone
will
come
too
late
into
the
arms
race.
Everyone
else
is
hard
at
it,
but
we
remain
idle
…’

Balint tried to chase away the thoughts that these words
provoked
, saying to himself that surely their only enemy was Russia and that she was too preoccupied with recovering from the
shameful
disaster of the war with Japan, with controlling the latent revolutionary movements, with the recurrent mutinies in the army and the recent re-emergence of pogroms against the Jews, to pose any threat to Austria-Hungary? It would take a long time for Russia to recover her strength, though it was true that, as she had been repulsed in the Far East, it was likely that she would next turn her attention to the Balkans. However, there was time enough to start thinking about that.

The other matter was more personal. As soon as he arrived back in the capital he asked about Laszlo Gyeroffy and,
unhappily
, the man he asked was Niki Kollonich.

Niki laughed maliciously: ‘Haven’t you heard? Don’t you know about it?’ he said, with obvious enjoyment. ‘You won’t see him at the Casino any more! His gambling went too far, but they allowed him to resign, thank God. He was lucky to escape being thrown out!’

‘You seem pretty pleased about it!’ Balint rounded on him angrily.

‘Not at all,’ the other said hurriedly. ‘I only meant that it was just as well for the rest of us, for his family. It would have been very awkward if there had been a scandal and he’d been thrown out publicly. It was all hushed up.’

Balint went round at once to the apartment house in Museum Street where Laszlo had had his flat. By the entrance door he found a sign posted:
FOR RENT. FURNISHED ROOMS WITH PRIVATE
ENTRANCE
.
THIRD FLOOR
. He went in search of the hall-
porter
, who confirmed that, two weeks before, Count Gyeroffy had given up his flat, packed up all his possessions and left.