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Authors: Miklos Banffy

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‘As it was clear that the bandits had gone off to the south, and as there was only one track, even for bandits, through the eternal snows of the road to Kashmir, it wasn’t difficult to follow them and surround them with my three faithful Tartars. The bandits had their women with them, and were also driving some stolen herds of sheep, and these had slowed them down. With my hunting rifle it was quite easy to pick them off – the wild ram was much more trouble! So I came back to Arslan with the woman, and with his son and all his other possessions. Among them was this sword.
Alp-Arslan
was overjoyed to get the boy back but he wouldn’t touch the sword. In fact it was quite a problem to get him to accept the sheep. The sword, he said, was mine, the rightful spoils of war. And that is how I got it.’ Absolon laughed again. ‘Paid for in blood, eh? Other people’s blood, of course! But then that was how our own wild ancestors acquired their land, was it not?’

He continued to fascinate Adrienne with the stories of his extraordinary adventures until well after dinner. Then Adrienne told her host that she must go to bed because she would have to leave for home very early the next morning.

‘I won’t keep you up,’ he said. ‘I know you have a long way to go. It was brave of you to have come all this way to take me into your confidence and I feel most honoured by your visit and by your trust in me. As you have to go in the morning perhaps you would be so kind as to take me as far as Regen? I have a little business there and I would so enjoy your company on the trip.’

‘Why, of course,’ cried Adrienne. ‘I would love it.’

Absolon himself showed her to one of the principal
guestrooms
. Marisko was there waiting and she explained how to turn out the lamps and showed her that there were candles, matches and water on a table by the bed. Then she turned to go but stopped at the door and said, ‘Kiss your hand, my Lady!’ and went swiftly out.

Adrienne lay back on the lavender-scented pillows and thought about what had happened that day and what was to come in the future. She was pleased about how the day had turned out and, as she recalled how well she had been received by her husband’s uncle and how kind he had been in promising to help her,
something
he had said when asking if he could drive with her to Regen kept recurring to her mind. Those words ‘I have a little business there’ seemed to have no particular significance and might indeed have referred to a hundred different little errands, and yet, and yet? Surely there must have been some reason for her to
remember
just that phrase so clearly?

Had it been that, as he spoke, he had raised one eyebrow in just the same way as he had when he had been so careful in
choosing
his words about the arrangements for her divorce, about her special responsibility, about Pali Uzdy? She was sure it had been that, it must have been that.

As the thought came to her she drifted off to sleep.

The sturdy Miloth chestnuts trotted so eagerly in the morning air that it seemed that they had hardly set off when they were already approaching the town of Regen. Absolon had been
unusually
quiet on the way for he had been doing some hard thinking and felt he had to prepare himself for something unexpected. He had noticed something wrong at the time of Margit’s wedding. Although it seemed to most people that though he might be calm and wise he was also perhaps rather remote and unconcerned, it was rarely noticed what a sharp observer he was. It was the
constant
awareness of the hunter, still as much a part of him as it had been in those years in the wild where for more than a third of his life he had trained himself to notice everything, the faintest sounds, the slightest movement, the least sign of something out of the ordinary; for it was on such things that a hunter depended, sometimes even for his life.

Pal Uzdy had naturally been at the wedding; and his uncle, who had not seen him for some time, had been disturbed by some decidedly odd mannerisms he seemed to have developed. Old Absolon noticed, for example, how often Uzdy would adopt
unusual
, even awkward, poses. He could see him now, standing in a group of people, but remaining oddly still with his right hand held in front of his face with the forefinger pointed back towards his nose just as if he were inspecting something caught under his nail. The stance was utterly contrived and, apparently,
meaningless
. When he moved he put one foot in front of the other with concentrated deliberation as if it were only by so doing that he prevented them from running away with him. When he spoke to anyone he affected a proud, disdainful manner which suggested that he despised them all. None of this was completely new to him for his manner had always been individual and usually
ungracious
; but his oddnesses had never before been so pronounced. Absolon was uncomfortably reminded of his brother-in-law shortly before he went off his head. Pal Uzdy’s father had then shown much the same peculiarities as his son did now.

He had been thinking of this ever since that moment the day before when he had told Adrienne he sympathized with her
wanting
a divorce.

It was because of this that he had at once put through a
telephone
call to Regen. It had been to the principal of the hospital and it had been to warn him to expect him the following day. Now he was trying to decide how best to reveal to Adrienne that he thought it best, before giving her any further help and advice, to consult this particular doctor and indeed to take her to meet him. Dr Wolf Herman Kisch was a most distinguished
practitioner
and before accepting the post of running the Regen
hospital
he had been a consultant specialist in nervous diseases. He had worked with the internationally renowned Kraepelin in Berlin and also spent a year with Charcot. Absolon felt that they would be better qualified to deal with this delicate problem if first they had the benefit of Dr Kisch’s advice. It was even possible that he would agree to help.

He lit another cigar and then turned to his niece. Carefully choosing his words so as not to alarm her, he said, ‘Among other things, my dear niece, it occurred to me that since we are here we might take the opportunity of calling on an old friend of mine, Dr Kisch. He might give us some good advice on how best to tackle your problem.’

‘Tell a country doctor about our private affairs? In Regen?’ said Adrienne, astonished by such an out-of-the-way suggestion.

‘Oh, he isn’t at all what you think of as a country doctor. He’s a most exceptional man and there are very few like him, not only here but in all Europe.’ Without pausing long enough for Adrienne to veto the idea he proceeded to tell her Dr Kisch’s story. He had been born, related Absolon, in the large
German-speaking
village of Dedrad nearby. He had been outstanding at school and after graduating at the Saxon University he had been offered a grant which would cover all his expenses to study
medicine
abroad if, in return, he would undertake to come back and take up any position for which they might want him. Kisch accepted. He qualified as a doctor and soon specialized in the new science of psychiatry. In this he undertook some highly important research and as a result the University of Jena offered him a professorship; but he could not then accept the offer. Just at that time, five years before, he had been called home as his sponsors wanted him to take up the direction of the brand-new little hospital at Regen. It had thirty beds and every modern improvement known to science. If he accepted it would mean
giving
up all idea of international fame, of time to pursue his researches, of everything for which he had seemed so uniquely qualified. Dr Kisch had stood by his word: he came back.

‘You see, this really is a man to whom we could tell the truth about my nephew. There can be no doubt that if Pali Uzdy is not actually mad he is certainly not normal, so it would be a wise
precaution
to have him looked at by a specialist in mental cases. It would have to be done very discreetly, of course; and someone like Dr Kisch might advise some cure or other, some way to make him relax and take things more calmly. It might be a help in ensuring that … that things went smoothly, that there weren’t any unexpected … er … unpleasant consequences.’

Absolon’s words were uttered with the same special inflection he had used the previous day when he had said, ‘I will do as you ask and try to help. You … and anyone else … must be protected’.

‘But aren’t there excellent specialists at Kolozsvar?’

‘My nephew probably knows them, if only by sight. He cannot possibly know anything about Dr Kisch. We might introduce him as some eminent fellow on a walking tour. As it happens, he really is an avid collector of butterflies, so it would seem quite
natural
if he suddenly turned up at Almasko.’

Adrienne did not answer, she was too upset by what she sensed lay behind the old man’s words, by the possibility that Uzdy might need treatment for some nervous disorder. Though for years she had thought him remarkably odd and eccentric, it had never before occurred to her that he needed psychiatric treatment or that he might be heading for real madness; and the idea filled her with horror, for if that happened there could be no divorce and she would be bound to him until one of them died.

Absolon, perhaps sensing her thoughts, said reassuringly, ‘Perhaps I’m being over-cautious, but it seemed like a good idea which might be a help in getting everything settled quickly. I’m sure it would help me to do what you ask.’

‘All right!’ said Adrienne. ‘I trust you. I’ll do whatever you think best.’

As they were driving into the town they caught up with Absolon’s carriage which had left Borbathjo at dawn. It was drawn by four well-groomed ponies, sturdy and sleek with shiny coats and very long manes and tails. Absolon did not use a normal travelling carriage but preferred a long low country wagon such as the peasants used to go to market. The driver and groom were dressed to match, in the classic peasant’s trousers and jerkins, just like all those who worked at Borbathjo both inside the house and out, for Absolon did not care for livery, thinking it somewhat pretentious.

When Adrienne’s carriage drew abreast Absolon called out, ‘Go straight to the White Lamb, unhitch the horses and wait there!’

As he spoke they were rumbling across the old bridge over the Maros and were soon jolting through the town on what were well-known to be the worst cobble-stones in the district. Right through the town they went and out on the other side, where the new hospital stood upon a hill.

It was a handsome building and on its
, in huge letters, was written
STÄDTLICHES
KRANKENHAUS
– Town Hospital. Inside, all the notices and signs were also written in German. The porter, who had already been warned of their arrival, showed them straight into the
Warteraum
from which opened another door labelled
ORDINATIONS-ZIMMER DES OBERARZTES
– Interview Room of the Doctor-in-Charge.

BOOK: They Were Found Wanting
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