They Were Divided (38 page)

Balint got up again, went over to the window and opened it. He stood there for a long time without moving and allowing the cool air to circulate round him and calm him down.

Outside the dew still lay on that part of the grass that the sun could not reach, and there, too, the unmelted hoarfrost lay like milky glass. Elsewhere the lawn was dotted with fallen leaves, coppery-red from the plane-trees and butterfly-yellow from the maple. The leaves were still falling, very slowly and floating in the air like a light mist of golden smoke in front of the open
window
… But Balint saw nothing of this. He merely stood there, staring sightlessly before him.

He came to himself only when the door opened and Aron Kozma and Ganyi entered the room. They gave him their report of the Co-operative meeting and told him that the book-keeping was in order and that they had found no faults in the society’s
management
. Then Kozma outlined the present state of the problems attendant on the distribution of the newly acquired farmland, and said he was glad to report that the former muddles had been satisfactorily cleared up. Owing to the diligence of the more
reliable
members, the late-payers had been obliged to settle their debts and so the society was now in a position to repay the few thousand crowns that Abady had advanced. Kozma explained all this in great detail because he was anxious to make Balint understand how much trouble he had caused by his well-meaning but thoughtless intervention.

Balint nodded and seemed to be listening. Now and then he said something to show appreciation of what had been done, but
though he was as polite and considerate as ever, his mind was not in it. All the time that Kozma was speaking Balint was still seeking to understand what lay behind that pseudo-
parliamentarian
debate that had so angered him.

Soon he believed that he had discovered what had led people who should have known better to act in that ridiculous way. It was nothing more than the almost universal belief of Hungarian politicians that their voices could only be heard inside their own country. Their whole conception of politics was based on this, and nobody for a moment believed that their actions and words were watched or heard by anyone abroad, not even Apponyi whose brother-in-law was ambassador in London and who
presumably
wrote home from time to time, nor Andrassy, whose father was close to Franz-Josef’s intimate circle and who had for a while been a diplomat himself. In the heat of domestic passions it had never occurred to them to think of such matters as anything but the skirmishes of party politics which no one outside Hungary could for a moment understand or even be interested in. To these men the horizon extended no further than Vienna and outside this circle, this little Hungarian globe, there was nothing! The motion passed in the Hotel Royal’s ballroom was not in
reality
meant even for the Balkan states, but only for the government in Budapest, or at best, for the monarch so that he might see how discontented its authors were.

The general public, which for centuries had had no interest in world affairs and had never even grasped the importance of the Balkan conflict, now showed no more interest in the opposition’s motion, and in any case would never have believed that any
reaction
outside the country could have any more relevance than if it happened on the moon.

While these matters were passing through Balint’s mind, he had been nodding approval of everything Kozma told him but in fact paying less and less attention to what was actually said. So now, when Kozma suggested that when they made their next tour together Balint should not only refrain from accepting any personal financial responsibility but should promise him never in any circumstances to do such a thing again, because such an action was the very negation of the idea of self-help and co-
operation
, Balint, who had heard only the last few words, at once replied, ‘Of course I’ll promise … of course, you’re quite right!’ and Kozma grinned at the secretary in triumph as if saying, ‘You see how easily he can be convinced! He has even given his promise!’

It was now getting close to lunch-time. They got up and were about to walk up to the castle when Balint realized that he had not even glanced at his mail. Accordingly he asked Kozma to go on to entertain his mother while he and the secretary went through the letters together. He would join them in a few minutes.

The first few letters dealt only with Co-operative business and so, after briefly scanning their contents, he handed them to Ganyi saying how they should be answered. The next letter was in a grey envelope and was from Honey Andras Zutor.

It concerned the notary Gaszton Simo and recounted how the young forester Kula had come to find him in the woods and had recounted that while he, Kula, had been at the market at Hunyad, the Romanian
popa
Timbus had gone to Pejkoja and threatened Kula’s grandfather, old Juon aluj Maftye. Angrily he had asked the old man why he had gone so far as to denounce Simo for malpractice and how it was that he had dared to appoint a Kolozsvar lawyer to represent him. The old man had been badly scared and had told the priest that he had understood
nothing
of what was happening, that it was all in the hands of his grandson and that, as he was very infirm and could not read or write, he had merely signed whatever had been put before him. Old Juon had apparently said that he was guilty of nothing and that there was nothing of which he could be accused. The priest had then taken out some paper and tried to induce the old man to put his mark on it, but the grandfather, despite the priest’s menaces, had resisted and had not signed. Kula now wrote that he feared the old man would not be able to hold out for long because he felt death approaching and Timbus had threatened him with eternal damnation. The young man did not know what was in the paper the priest wanted signed but thought it probably countermanded the lawyer’s appointment, though of course it might have been something else, perhaps some appreciative
statement
about Gaszton Simo. The old man had not been told.

‘
…
and
this
is
why
I
am
writing
to
your
Lordship
,’
ended Honey’s letter, which as usual was clear enough even if lacking in
punctuation
, ‘
because
some
big
trouble
may
come
of
it
Kula
is
frightened
and
sure
that
Timbus
and
Simo
will
certainly
shake
the
old
man
and
he
said
I
saw
Simo
yesterday
he
is
not
an
easy
man
to
deal
with
and
he
may
have
been
going
to
say
something
else
but
I
looked
hard
at
him
and
perhaps
he
thought
I
was
going
to
hit
him
but
it
is
certain
that
now
he
is
in
a
good
mood
though
only
three
weeks
ago
he
talked
about
being
fed
up
and
wanting
to
move
away
but
now
he
doesn’t
say
this
any
more
but
quite
different
things
…’

Balint’s face clouded. When he had left the mountains in August he had looked for a lawyer who spoke Romanian and who could not only plead old Juon’s case at the tax office but who could also speak with the country people when the inspectors came to make their enquiries on the spot. It had not been easy to find the right man because everyone knew that Simo and the head County Sheriff were close friends and that therefore
everyone
in the Sheriff’s office would move heaven and earth to protect their colleague. He had had to find someone who had no ties, either of family or friendship, with anyone in the Sheriff’s office.

Finally one such had been found and the denunciation of Simo officially deposited with the authorities. As yet there had been no hearing and though an enquiry was bound to be held sooner or later, it was obviously in Simo’s interest to do
everything
he could to postpone matters until he had had time to make the plaintiff withdraw. If he could achieve this then he would win the case.

It was not, however, only a case of clearing Simo’s good name. If he were to be exonerated then it would be Simo himself who would have his hands on the steering-wheel. He could then file a complaint for malicious prosecution and the honest young Kula would find himself hounded and persecuted in his turn.

Balint grew ever more depressed at this terrible thought, for it would be a heavy responsibility if the young man should get into trouble because of his confidence in Balint. Looking up from Honey’s letter Balint looked at Miklos Ganyi, sitting beside him at the desk. Through his thick black-rimmed spectacles Balint fancied he could see a look of compassion and an eagerness to be of help. It was as if Ganyi already knew what was worrying his employer, and it occurred to Balint that as the secretary had spent six years in a country notary’s office he would be sure to know exactly how such enquiries were carried out and so perhaps would have a useful idea of what the consequences might be.

Turning to Ganyi he gave him a brief account of the affair and also told him that the accused was doing all he could to
persuade
the plaintiff to withdraw.

Ganyi listened attentively, his long bony face tilted sideways as was his habit when listening to something important.

‘I have heard about this case,’ he said, when Abady had
finished
. ‘I had it from Winkler, the forest supervisor, when he was last here. Simo will certainly be dismissed if the case is proved. This is automatic in cases of tax fraud. However, if they can persuade
the old man to declare that his grandson never explained what he was being induced to sign, and especially if he were to say that the receipt he produced had nothing to do with the tax demand but was for something quite different, there could then be some very serious results.’

Ganyi paused, and then went on: ‘Since the old man cannot read or write then no retribution would fall on him; but the grandson could be made to seem responsible and could be accused of slander and of falsifying legal documents. For these crimes he might well be convicted … and … and perhaps not only him. Simo is quite capable of spreading his net further and indicting Andras Zutor as an instigator of the crime, and …’ – here Ganyi again hesitated before plucking up courage to say what was in his mind – ‘… and perhaps even your Lordship.’

‘Really? Me too? Why?’

‘Because it was your Lordship who recruited the lawyer and instructed him to proceed. Of course your Lordship’s actions can easily be explained and defended for it would be clear that, no matter how the situation turns out, your Lordship acted in good faith and for the general good. It is unlikely that Simo would go as far as that, but your Lordship would certainly be subpoenaed as a witness and Simo would do all he could to drum up support in the press by posing as a martyr. You can be sure that the more trouble he can stir up the happier he’ll be!’

‘It would be ironic if Simo tried to act the sacrificial lamb! But what can we do? Go up and see old Juon?’

Ganyi’s mouth opened until a glint of white teeth could be seen. Then, very slowly and with marked emphasis, he said, ‘That I would not recommend. The old man is an essential
witness
and the accused would be sure to assert that a visit from your Lordship constituted an attempt to persuade the plaintiff to bear false witness. Such an assertion would only complicate
matters
. There is only one thing to do: explain to the grandson that it would be fatal to him personally if his grandfather were to
withdraw
. A watch must be kept on him, and this can easily be done, up there in the forests, without attracting anyone’s attention.’

Balint stood up. He thought for a few moments and then put out his hand to Ganyi. ‘Thank you for such excellent advice. I’ll write to Zutor today.’

‘Your Lordship should put nothing on paper. It’d be better not to write, for one never knows into what hands a letter may
fall. Send for him and do it verbally; that would be better, far better!’

They went out, the secretary politely escorting his employer as far as the veranda steps. Then with a modest smile that pulled apart the line of his little black moustache, Ganyi added, ‘Perhaps your Lordship would like to entrust this matter to me? With your permission I could explain everything to Zutor
personally
. I have had some experience in similar cases, and it might be better than if your Lordship … it would give me great pleasure.’