They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [101]
Even Fredi might not have argued so passionately, nor uttered such idiotic remarks, had he seen who was standing behind him.
It was Slawata, adviser to the Austrian Foreign Office and an intimate of Franz-Ferdinand. Behind his thick glasses his eyes seemed to gaze into the distance and the bland expression on his face gave away nothing of what he might be thinking. He stood there, apparently somewhat bored, as if he had simply strayed there by chance. After a moment or two he wandered off to see what he might overhear elsewhere.
At that moment Abady arrived at the club and almost collided with Slawata at the door. The latter at once brightened up as if thankful at last to meet someone he knew.
‘Komm! Ich muss mit dir reden! – come with me, I want a word with you. At last I’ve found somebody I can talk to. Let’s find a quiet spot!’ And so saying he took Balint’s arm and led him away.
For some time Balint had tried to avoid Jan Slawata’s confidences, because Slawata frequently said things that offended Balint’s patriotic feelings. Yet it was difficult to avoid meeting this old colleague – for they had both started their careers in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs in Vienna – and there was something about having worked in the Ballplatz that formed a bond between its alumni that often lasted a lifetime. So it was with Slawata and Abady. Whatever their differences there always remained this old link, which was something more than mere friendship for it was based less on mutual attraction and more on the fact that, diplomatically speaking, they spoke the same language. Usually Abady’s reluctance to listen to Slawata’s often tactless opinions had led to his avoiding the diplomat’s company, but on this day he welcomed it, for he was anxious to hear something more authoritative than the gossip and rumour that were flooding the Casino at that moment.
‘You can imagine,’ said the friend and confidant of Franz-Ferdinand, ‘the emotions produced by the Old Man’s announcement. For years we have been waiting for our turn to come and now we are not even ready for it! Nothing is prepared, we have no definite programme and no men trained and ready to take over the reins of government. Of course His Highness knows what he wants, but the details still have to be worked out. The “workshop” is feverishly busy, but I can tell you it’s chaos, absolute chaos! Personally I could wish for some other solution to this crisis … we’re simply not ready! I’ve been sent to see how the land lies, find out what people are thinking, judge everyone’s reactions, their moods, what their reactions are … It’s not a nice job, and I don’t like it one bit. And it’s a dreadful responsibility. If anything goes wrong then I’ll get the blame and His Highness, as you know, can be pretty ruthless. He doesn’t play games, that one!’
‘Well, I for one don’t think there’ll be any change,’ said Abady. ‘As I see it Khuen-Hedervary will resign and whoever succeeds will simply back down and withdraw the resolution. After all the government only adopted it as a means to stop all this obstruction.’
‘That might be so had Tisza not accepted it too; but with him involved things are much more serious. The resolution is now his baby. Of course I now see what a mistake we made in telling our defence minister Auffenburg to protest to the Hungarian government. That’s what has made Tisza so angry; you know how touchy he can be about anything that seems like an infringement of Hungary’s independence. Anyhow we think Tisza has an ulterior motive in supporting the resolution: he wants to use it against us as soon as there is a change of ruler. The theory at the Belvedere is that Tisza believes that when this happens there won’t be any more bargaining; just a clean break with the resolution remaining but with the obstructionists removed. If, when the Heir ascends the throne, he finds himself opposed by a majority in the Hungarian Parliament, then he’ll find himself up