They Were Found Wanting (75 page)

She said all this without moving, hissing the words from her thin lips while her eyes glistened like those of a madwoman.

There was nothing more that Adrienne could say: the mother seemed as mad as her son. Her anger evaporating, Adrienne went out into the clean daylight of the corridor and from there straight into the great entrance court and stood, with her back to the house, gazing into the distance.

The tree-covered mountainside beyond the lawns was dark, so much so that the forest seemed almost to be moving towards the castle and blanketing out the sky. Adrienne felt that the trees were blocking out the whole world and that she would be kept for ever in that dreadful prison.

That same evening everything was back to normal. Until
dinner
-time Adrienne had seen no one, then she went into the big drawing-room, where the family always assembled, and was
sitting
there in silence with her implacable mother-in-law when the door opened and Uzdy came in, apparently in high good humour.

‘Well,’ he said to his mother, laughing merrily, ‘I gave you a good scare, what? And didn’t I do it well? You thought I’d gone mad, eh? What a joke! I could have been a wonderful actor, as good as Talma… Yes, Talma, the real thing,’ and, gently
caressing
her arm, he led his mother into the dining-room where he continued to chat merrily and lightly, like a child, just as he used to before he had become so gloomy.

For some days he remained the same, as if he were making a
special
effort so that the others would forgive that appalling scene. No matter how hard Adrienne studied him she could see no signs of anything unusual. Every alarming symptom had disappeared, and only very seldom did she catch a momentary glimpse of a dangerous flash from his eyes. She wondered if that sudden loss of control had now spent itself and whether, perhaps, his outburst of temper had dissipated whatever crisis had threatened him. Had not Dr Kisch said something about ‘agitated phases
alternating
with periods of calm’?

And because she wanted to believe it, she did.

All the while she was tormented by Balint’s letters. With that leaden burden of anxiety weighing on her mind, she read and
reread
them with hopeless pain in her heart. Even so they were her only hope of eventual freedom. The letters kept arriving, long, long letters full of desire and love; and each of them seemed to burn her fingers as she held it. And they were doubly
tormenting
because even if he did not spell it out, every word flamed with reproach, with the accusation that she had done nothing while he had sacrificed everything for her.

That was when Adrienne finally made up her mind. It was not easy, and, even as she did so she still wondered if her departure might not set off another terrible attack. She was terrified that her actions might provoke an irreversible relapse and that, of course, would render all her efforts in vain and chain her to Uzdy for as long as he lived. She wondered if she should not call in Dr Kisch once more and let him decide. At least then she would be sure.

And yet she did not dare. Balint was waiting for her and their future together, and the son that was to be born to them. She had to go, to be with everything that she held dear.

All the same she had to act sensibly, and that was when she thought of Absolon. The old explorer had always come once or twice a year to visit his sister and so there would be nothing
unusual
if he should suddenly arrive now. He was well-disposed to Adrienne and if anyone was esteemed by her husband it was he. He was the only person who could help her if the bombshell should explode; and so she wrote to him on the same day that she sent her long letter to Balint. She told him all the details of what she was going to do and what she wanted him to do for her. Five days later his answer came: he agreed to do just as she asked but told her he could not come immediately as his crippled leg was giving him much pain and he had to go first to Szasz-Regen where Dr Kisch would give him some treatment. This would only take a few days: then he would come at once. He would send a
telegram
to his sister to announce his arrival. It was the best she could hope for.

The following days passed slowly for Adrienne who was in an agony of anxiety fearing that Uzdy would take another sudden turn for the worse. But nothing happened. It seemed that his recovery was complete and that he had completely regained his equanimity. Adrienne noted with relief that her husband was once again taking an interest in estate matters, which had been totally neglected since he had started working on that strange theory of numbers. He even ordered that the daily postbag should be brought to him every day before being sent off to the post office in Nagy-Almas so that he could send off at once his replies to the reports from the agents resident on his extensive properties far from Almasko. That was what he had always been accustomed to do in the past. Every detail of the management of his estates had invariably been controlled by Uzdy himself through a
voluminous
daily correspondence, and the fact that he had taken all this up again seemed to Adrienne to be an encouraging sign. Adrienne therefore saw nothing odd in the fact that Uzdy often now not only held back the mail, sometimes for an hour or more behind the locked doors of his study, but also, as he always rose late, that he had the bag brought to him last. This seemed quite sensible as his room was on the ground floor which had to be passed by the courier on his way out.

It was lucky, thought Adrienne, that Uzdy had only adopted this system after her correspondence with Balint had stopped.

Only one alarming symptom remained. From time to time Adrienne thought se detected a covert glance of hatred directed at his mother; but it was so slight she managed to convince herself that this was merely a faint echo of something from the past.

November came to an end in a blaze of gorgeous weather, as it so often did in Transylvania around St Catherine’s Day. They called it the Old Wives’ Summer – and it always came to a sudden end with the first snows.

One day Adrienne went out early for her usual walk. From a path high above the castle she saw one of the Almasko carriages being driven swiftly along the road to Nagy-Almas. It was empty and a young groom sat beside the coachman. This meant that it was going to the railway station and the groom’s presence also meant that a guest was expected and that he would be needed to help with the luggage.

Her heart throbbed at the thought that it must be Absolon and that very soon now she would be free. At once she thought of everything that had happened in the past few weeks, and all seemed set fair. Nothing had occurred to make her fear a further delay and so it was now, at last, that her long hoped-for flight would become a reality. For a long time Uzdy had seemed calm, and as normal as he ever had been. Now at last all her efforts to arrange a divorce would be crowned with success, she must
succeed
… she would succeed!.

The carriage must have gone to meet the 9.30 train, and Uzdy’s American trotters were so fast that Absolon could be at the house within the hour. Adrienne did not want to be there when he came in case anyone should guess that she knew he was coming, so she decided to come in herself a little later.

She went for a long walk in the woods and when she next looked at her watch it was already after eleven. The guest must have arrived about three-quarters of an hour before, so it was now safe to return.

Adrienne had hardly started down the winding path from the woods when she was startled by something utterly unexpected. Uzdy jumped out from behind a tree, not with his usual stilted gait but hurriedly, almost running towards her. It was as if he had been hiding from something and had been waiting only for her.

And so it was.

‘I’ve been waiting for you, dear Adrienne,’ he said, ‘and I’m thankful I’ve found you!’ He sighed deeply, and then, somewhat awkwardly, tried to laugh. ‘It’s strange, isn’t it? But it doesn’t matter; strange things happen in life, very strange,’ and he
hesitated
for a moment before going on. Then, very seriously, as if begging for her help, he said, ‘I want you to stay near me today, all the time. Please stay with me! Don’t leave me today! Will you do it? Will you?’

‘Of course. Gladly. But what’s happened?’

Uzdy bent his tall figure until he could speak directly into Adrienne’s ear. She saw fear in his eyes.

‘My mother,’ he said. ‘My mother has had a doctor sent out from Kolozsvar. It’s a plot … against me! She says he’s coming to see our daughter, but I know she’s lying. That’s why I came out to find you, so that they wouldn’t find me alone – not alone, not for a minute alone!’

He put his hands on her shoulders and they were shaking with terror. Then, barely audibly, he whispered, ‘The old witch wants to put me in the madhouse, just like my father! You mustn’t let that happen! Please don’t let it happen! If you are with me they won’t dare!’

‘Surely not?’ said Adrienne. ‘You must be imagining it. Why on earth should she?’

‘But she does, I tell you. She does.’ Uzdy was now howling like a frightened animal. ‘I’ve suspected it for a long time, and now I know. I opened her letters and read them … That’s why she’s got him here; I know. But let’s go now! Come on!’ and he grabbed his wife’s hand and walked off so fast with his long legs that Adrienne could hardly keep up with him.

In the centre of that round lawn that was bordered by the
carriage
drive he slowed down, put his hands in his pockets and strolled casually towards the house as if nothing was the matter. The change was so abrupt that Adrienne would almost have believed that she had dreamed what had just occurred between them had he not turned briefly towards her and hissed, ‘Stay with me. Stay always with me.’

In front of the house Countess Clémence was talking to a man Adrienne had never seen before. When her son and
daughter-in-law
came up she introduced the man as Dr Palkowitz, a professor from Kolozsvar, and said she had called him in to see her
grandchild
, explaining rather breathlessly and at length that the little girl had become very nervous, was not sleeping well, suffered from nightmares and often woke up frightened in the night; and therefore she had thought it best, just to be sure, to consult a
specialist
, though it was nothing, of course, just a precaution. It was always better with children, wasn’t it, to have them looked at from time to time.