They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [151]
‘This is all very ancient history,’ he said in a soothing voice. ‘These things happened over a thousand years ago, so what good does it do to argue about it now? The truth is that only two peoples who are not Slav or Germanic live in the Danube basin now and those are the Romanians and the Hungarians; and they would do well to learn to live with each other. It is in the interest of both nations and we should never forget that. Of course mistakes have been made and are still being made, but it is surely the duty of every man of good faith to work for reconciliation. It will never be easy, because crimes have been committed and there are many wrongs to be righted. But all this hatred, this hatred that has built up over the centuries, must somehow be washed away. It must be!’
In the heat of his own conviction Balint managed to find many arguments he felt to be convincing. It was the first time he had tried to express in an organized way what he had long felt.
He ended by saying, ‘I am sure that the time will come when all these past wrongs are forgotten and your people and mine will no longer be kept apart by hatred and resentment, but will live side by side together like brothers.’
Timbus, who had been listening in silence, now jumped up and shouted, ‘Never! Never that! Never! Never!’ He stood there trembling, with burning eyes.
‘Why not?’ answered Balint gently. ‘To me it is a historic necessity. Our two peoples – and I ignore the Slavs and Germans –have no other true relations in this part of Europe. We must come together and trust each other if we don’t both want to find ourselves the slaves of our neighbours. It must happen if we are to survive.’
‘Maybe it’s so … maybe!’ muttered Timbus. ‘Maybe … some day…’ Then he raised his thin arms in the air, gesturing with those emaciated talons, his hands, and a high scream, full of hatred, broke from him, ‘But first … first we’ll pay you back tenfold … a hundredfold, and after that … No! Not even then … Never! Never!’
Reeling, he turned about, ran to the door, wrenched it open and disappeared slamming the door behind him.
Balint did not attend the court. After Simo’s lawyer, Dr Todor Farkas, had thundered out his accusations against Kula and Zutor, Abady’s lawyer got to his feet; but instead of addressing the court he merely went up to the presiding judge and, without comment, handed up Gaszton Simo’s letter and the draft of old Juon’s recantation. This brought the case to an end with shame to the accusers and complete vindication and acquittal for Kula and Zutor. When the judge read out his findings he addressed scathing words to Dr Farkas, reprimanding him for unforgivably unprofessional conduct in writing the draft at all, and then for his audacity in declaring to the court that it was dictated by old Juon with no help from anyone else. The intimidation of the old man was so obvious that little more had to be said. It was the end of Dr That-is-to-say’s career. He managed somehow to avoid disciplinary action from the lawyers’ association, but he never again appeared in any but unimportant and insignificant cases.
Simo was dismissed from his post at once. To save him from prison some influential relations somehow found the money to repay not only what he had embezzled from old Juon but also many other sums which came to light as soon as his dealings were investigated. He was then sent far away to Borod where he earned a meagre living as a humble scribe paid by the day. That was the end of his self-created little kingdom in the mountains.
An honest notary was now sent to Gyurkuca. He had been recommended by Balint, and his appointment was made so as to honour Count Abady and thus show the world that the past was now forgotten.
This was the work of the Chief Judge, who was a clever man.
Chapter Five
FROM THE DAY THAT ROZA ABADY HAD HER STROKE Balint hardly moved from Denestornya. If he had to go to Kolozsvar for