Balint, too, spent most of his time at the Casino, not because he much wanted to take part in all these passionate discussions but because he needed to know what was going on so that he could report it all to Adrienne.
Gyeroffy himself was not to be seen. He shut himself up in his hotel room and refused to see anyone except his seconds. Even these only received curt answers to their questions and absolutely no explanation as to why he had called Wickwitz a ‘scoundrel’. In vain, too, did they ask him what he had meant by the word blau – blue, which they hadn’t even realized was a proper name. Gyeroffy refused to reply and made it perfectly clear that he just wanted to be left alone. As soon as they had gone he took his brandy bottle out of the wardrobe and drank deeply.
Finally, on the afternoon of the fourth day it seemed that some sort of agreement had been reached between the soldiers and Laszlo’s seconds. It was not completely satisfactory but seemed to give hope of a solution. The officer-in-charge let it be known that he would agree, though not officially, to the substitution of a Weapons Commission for the Court of Honour demanded by Gyeroffy’s seconds. It was emphasized that the army officers would not consider themselves bound to accept any decision reached by such a commission. They would, nevertheless, receive official instructions in accordance with such a commission’s findings. The colonel accepted this compromise not because he liked it but as a result of a message from the divisional general saying that, in view of the growing unrest in the town, an immediate solution must be found and the matter put to rest. Accordingly, it was arranged for the Weapons Commission to meet at half-past two so that at three or just after the duel could take place.
Wickwitz had been spending his time exclusively with his army friends. On the first day after the challenge he had been worried lest Gyeroffy had let out what he knew of the Dinora-Blau affair and would not therefore be obliged to fight. However, seeing that his seconds remained as cordial and friendly as when they were first appointed, he became calm again for it was clear that Gyeroffy must have kept his mouth shut. When midday came on the fourth day of waiting and they told him to be ready to fight at three o’clock, he was not merely relieved but also overjoyed. Na, endlich – at last, well, at dawn the next morning, he would elope with Judith; up and away! Quickly he scribbled a few lines to her: ‘Tomorrow morning I’ll be at the station before five. I’ll be in the second-class waiting-room.’ Then he thought he ought to add some endearing, eager phrase, for he knew that girls appreciated that sort of thing; but though he pondered for some time he could think of nothing more eloquent than ‘ewig dein – forever yours’, that would have to do! He added these two words at the end, put the note in an envelope and sent it with one of the hotel pages to Zoltan at his school. He knew the boy would somehow get it to his sister.
The Weapons Commission met in the Casino and consisted of the elder Count Adam Alvinczy and Tihamer Abonyi, who had proposed his services with such insistence – for he was much attached to Wickwitz – that he managed to get appointed. Crookface Kendy presided. Just before half-past two they retired to the library together with Gyeroffy’s seconds. The anteroom outside was also closed to other members so that no one could overhear the discussions inside.
By the time the commission had already been in session for a quarter of an hour, everyone in the club was eagerly watching the inner doors of the library. Instead it was the entrance doors from the street which opened.
Baron Egon’s seconds entered the Casino in full uniform, looking stiff and unhappy, their shakos in their hands. They asked where Gyeroffy’s seconds were to be found. At once they were ushered through the smoking-room and into the library beyond. The doors closed behind them. Everyone wondered what could have happened. What was this? What did they want, barging in here?
There was another surprise. Baron Gazsi Kadacsay was now standing in the outer hall. He did not come in but remained with his shako on his head, pacing up and down. He, too, was in full uniform. It was amazing, unheard-of: Gazsi, who was always so careless of his appearance, here in the club, freshly shaven and dressed to the nines. They tried to question him, pouring out into the entrance hall and begging him to come in and tell them what was going on. ‘Why are you here? Why don’t you come in? Whatever are you doing in uniform? Is the King expected? When did you arrive? Where have you come from? From your regiment? From Brasso? Are you on duty?’ The questions poured out, but they received no answer.
Gazsi was by no means his usual light-hearted self. He stood there unusually serious, and replied as shortly as possible to all the questions with which he was plied. When at last someone asked about the duel, enquiring if he had been sent to Kolozsvar in connection with Nitwit’s challenge, Gazsi turned away, and seeing Balint Abady across the room, went over and drew him towards the staircase.
‘Thank heavens you’re here, my friend. For God’s sake talk to me about something, anything, and get me away from these lunatics. What a bunch of fools!’
They did not get far because at this moment the two officers came down. Baron Gazsi stood to attention, Wickwitz’s seconds joined him for a brief moment and stood one on each side of him; then all three saluted, turned and marched smartly out of the building.
Everyone rushed to the smoking-room where they found the members of the Weapons Commission just coming out of the library. But their curiosity was not to be satisfied. No matter how hard they tried they could get no proper answers to their questions. Crookface merely grunted in a negative way; Alvinczy shrugged his shoulders. Uncle Ambrus swore at everyone telling them all to go to hell. Then, with Joska Kendy, he left the building and everyone assumed that they were going to see Gyeroffy. Abonyi muttered: ‘The duel is postponed!’ and hurried away without explanation.
Baron Gazsi and the two officers drove at once to Wickwitz’s hotel. They found him waiting for them in the passage.
‘Servus Kadacsay! Bist auch hier? Also was ist – You here too? What’s up then?’ he asked as he showed the way to his room. ‘So nehmt’s doch Platz! – find yourselves a seat’ he said, sitting down himself and offering them all chairs. Then he looked up into their faces and said no more.
No one sat; the three men just looked down at him, their expressions grim and set. They stood there, stiffly, their shakos still on their heads, and looked at him in silence. Wickwitz shuddered, his spine tingling. He rose from his seat.
‘Oberleutnant Baron Egon von Wickwitz!’ the captain spoke in German, ‘a legal complaint has been lodged against you; therefore we are obliged to withdraw as your appointed seconds. Lieutenant Kadacsay will inform you further!’
The two men saluted and left the room without shaking hands. Baron Egon sank back on to the sofa. Gazsi took off his shako and pulled up a chair beside him. It was clear that he did not relish the task he had before him. He smoothed his short-cut hair a couple of times and, his head held sideways like a raven, he looked at the man beside him.
‘Na also, was hast Du mir zu sagen – well then, what have you to say to me?’ asked Wickwitz in a low voice.
Kadacsay opened one of the braided buttons on his loose hussar’s jacket and took out an official-looking paper from an inner pocket. He handed it over without saying a word. It read:
Auf Anzeige der Privatbank Blau und Comp. Grosswardein, ist gegen Oberleutnant Baron Egon von Wickwitz das Ehrengerechtliche-Verfahren eingeleitet worden. Gennanter Oberleutnant hat – following information laid by Blau and Co., private bankers and assayers, proceedings have been taken against Lieutenant Baron Egon von Wickwitz. The said Lieutenant must …
Though these terrible words seemed to swim before his eyes Wickwitz was still able to try and lie his way out of it: ‘There must be some mistake,’ he murmured in a low voice.
Gazsi inclined his head, his whole demeanour showing that he doubted if any mistake had been made. For a moment neither of them spoke.
‘Hast du noch etwas zu sagen – haven’t you anything else to tell me?’ asked Wickwitz at last.
Now Kadacsay replied instantly, though very slowly and with special emphasis: ‘The colonel entrusted me with a private message to be passed by word of mouth only. It is this: the commanding officer of your regiment informs you that should the signatures on Countess Dinora Malhuysen-Abonyi’s promissory notes be forgeries, then you are to proceed at once to Brasso and report to regimental headquarters. But if those signatures are really your own …’
‘If they are?’
‘If they are genuine … if you signed those papers … then it were best … if only for the honour of the regiment that …’ and Gazsi got up and placed a revolver on the table, ‘… that you should use this at once! That is the colonel’s message.’
The dark hair over Wickwitz’s low forehead seemed to fall even lower over his brows. His large cows’ eyes were almost closed:
‘So? So? So that’s it, is it?’ He repeated the words several times more.
Kadacsay picked up his shako. When he reached the door he turned: ‘These things are easier if done quickly!’ he said lightly. ‘Shall I close the door behind me?’
Baron Egon got up, straightening his fine athlete’s figure to its full height. ‘I’ll close it myself!’ he said in a hard and determined voice.
Gazsi hesitated a moment. Then he turned back. ‘Goodbye, my friend!’ he said putting out his hand which Wickwitz took in his hand and grasped strongly. For some seconds they remained hands clasped and silent. Then Kadacsay slipped quickly out.
Egon was alone. He walked up and down the room, once, twice, three times … and at the fifth turn he suddenly broke into peels of hard, ugly laughter. He rang the bell; and when the servant came in he asked the man to bring him a railway time-table. There was an outgoing train at six o’clock. This was extremely handy, for at that hour he was unlikely to encounter anyone he knew at the station. He looked at his watch: it was ten to five. Wickwitz quickly changed into shooting clothes. Then he packed all his civilian clothes into the smaller of his two suitcases. The larger he left where it was. His uniforms he hung neatly in the wardrobe. Then he picked up his sword with its gilded hilt and looked at it, remembering what a joy it had been when he had first been entitled to wear it. Then he put it carefully into the wardrobe. He looked around the room. On the table lay the revolver, the gift of his excellent colonel. Egon smiled ironically to himself, his moustaches curling with amusement. That present is far too good to leave behind! he thought, as he slipped the weapon into his pocket. Then he rang the bell again and ordered a carriage to be brought to the door.
‘I shall be away for a day or two,’ he said. ‘Most of my things are still in the room. Please see that it’s kept for me until I return!’
When they announced that the carriage was waiting Wickwitz looked around the room to check that he had forgotten nothing. He had everything he needed. He was driven to the station where he calmly boarded the six o’clock train and left. He had completely forgotten the message he had sent to Judith that morning. It had never even entered his head.
By dawn the next day he was over the Romanian border.
Kadacsay walked back slowly, stopping briefly every so often as if he were expecting someone to come hastening after him. At last he reached the Casino. He had not really wanted to come back, for he dreaded having people coming up to him asking questions, but he felt himself obliged to do so because he had told the hotel concierge to telephone him there ‘should anything happen’.
The Casino was humming like an upturned beehive. The only thing that everyone knew for certain, and this they had got from Alvinczy at once, was that no duel would take place and that Nitwit had been ordered back to his regiment. When Uncle Ambrus returned he had said it was because of some questionable dealings that touched the Austrian baron’s honour.
As soon as Kadacsay came in he was besieged with questions, but he replied so rudely that the others soon left him alone. Disappointed, they said to each other that really this Gazsi was getting above himself! Why, he was behaving just like an Austrian, a lackey of the Emperor in Vienna! It was the sort of thing that showed how much they needed Hungarian words of command and sword tassels in national colours! It was obvious. Everything would then be different. As it was, as soon as anyone put on the imperial uniform they didn’t want to have anything more to do with their old friends!
Joska Kendy was sitting with this group so Gazsi was unable to run to the shelter of his old hero. Therefore he went to look for Abady with whom he had become far more friendly since his visit to Denestornya. He needed someone to talk to with whom there would be no need to discuss what had just happened in Wickwitz’s hotel room. He wanted to have someone to sit with until that telephone call came for him. Balint and he settled down in the empty reading room where no one was expected to talk. For some time Gazsi did not open his mouth and there was a long silence between them. Then Balint said: ‘It was Dinora’s promissory notes, I suppose?’
Baron Gazsi nodded. Still he said nothing. They waited until it was already after half-past six. Then they went to the telephone and were put through to Wickwitz’ hotel. Kadacsay asked for the hall porter and when he came on the line, said:
‘Please go at once to Lieutenant Wickwitz’s room. What? He left the hotel? When? An hour ago. All right, thank you.’
‘You’d better come with me,’ said Gazsi, after a moment’s thought. ‘I’m not sure I can cope with this on my own!’
Both men hurried over to the hotel.
‘He only took his overnight bag – the small one,’ said the porter. ‘He didn’t say where he was going. It must have been about six o’clock: there are three trains around then, going to different places, of course. No, he didn’t pay his bill, he said he’d be back in a day or two!’ They asked for the key and went up.
The room was in perfect order. Gazsi looked down at the table. The revolver was nowhere to be seen. He went over to the wardrobe and opened it: inside there were all Wickwitz’s army things, tunics, blouses, braided satin waistcoats, parade trousers, officer’s caps, two pairs of hussar’s boots with their woods in place, and even his sword: not a trace of plain-clothes, no civilian suits, no shirts, no under-linen, no shoes!
Gazsi felt sick and he was so shocked that he went quite pale: ‘Come on!’ he said, ‘let’s get out of here!’
They left the hotel and wandered about the narrow streets of the old town. As they did so Gazsi told the whole story to Balint. Now it was obvious that Nitwit had run away, but before Gazsi took any further action Balint said that they must get definite proof of what had happened; they only had the word of the hotel porter that he’d gone to catch a train.
They went together to the station and questioned the porters. Yes, one of them remembered the gentleman; he had put his luggage on the train to the frontier. ‘Yes, he definitely went on that train. I know the Lieutenant well, I’ve often carried his bags.’
Kadacsay went to see the stationmaster who confirmed that they had sold a half-price officer’s ticket, second class, for the six o’clock train that afternoon. Kadacsay and Balint walked back together to the town centre. They walked slowly along while they discussed what action should be taken. Someone had to be told that Wickwitz had bolted, but who? The Hussar regiment at Brasso would not thank them if the news had first been reported to the local infantry garrison. They didn’t like to send a wire, for that was too public; and a letter would take too long.
Finally Gazsi decided he would return himself to Brasso on the night express. There they would know what was to be done.
Chapter Seven
AS SOON AS BALINT REACHED HOME after his long walk with Gazsi that evening he sent a note to Adrienne. He wrote: ‘W. decamped this afternoon. Tell you all tonight.’ That night at his usual time he let himself in through the window of Adrienne’s sitting-room and told her in detail everything that had transpired during the day. They talked for a long time, relieved at the way everything had turned out, for surely Judith would now see how worthless was the man on wh
om she had pinned her hopes. Of course it would be dreadful for her when she found out the whole truth, and so Adrienne planned next morning to tell her only what was absolutely necessary, letting it out bit by bit as Balint reported it to her. She felt it would be easier for Judith if she were to learn the truth gradually, but always as soon as Balint brought any more news, just in case Judith might hear something elsewhere.
The clock of the Monostor tower had just chimed out the quarter after three when Balint was about to let himself out.
It was a bright moonlit night. Even so, outside the windows of Adrienne’s rooms the shadow of the house was so dense that it was difficult to see anything before the little gate which led to the bridge. Balint’s hand was already on the handle of the french window when he suddenly stopped. In front of him he had seen the dark outline of a woman walking quickly towards the bridge. It was Judith. Swiftly she passed to the other side and took the path beside the river bank. For a moment Balint hesitated, wondering if he ought not to go back and tell Adrienne, but there would be no time for that if he were to follow the girl to prevent her doing something foolish. Quickly he slipped out and went after her.
It was easy to follow her along the moonlit road, even though from time to time he lost sight of her for a moment in the shadow of the trees. She was in a great hurry, walking so fast that even Balint was pushed to keep up with her. When they reached the outskirts of the town Judith headed straight towards the railway line, slipping quickly into the station as soon as she arrived.
They Were Counted (The Writing on the Wall: the Transylvanian Trilogy) Page 73
