They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [62]
‘Well then,’ said young Garazda, ‘what about when he gets back from the border?’
‘Certainly not!’ said Bogacsy peremptorily. ‘The Code Duverger expressly states that if both parties to a duel are present nothing shall prevent the meeting taking place. The duel can take place at once, tonight. It isn’t even eleven yet; by midnight the whole affair will be settled.’
‘Very well, but where? The Gymnasium is now closed and there is no other suitable hall.’
‘But there is!’ roared Bogacsy triumphantly. ‘Right here! This room is quite big enough if we push the table to one side. The floor isn’t too slippery, in fact it’s just right. As one of the Casino’s directors I hereby give my official permission.’
Then they got down to details. Two medical men would have to be routed out of their beds and made to attend. Bogacsy had a pair of light cavalry sabres at his apartment and Farkas Alvinczy two more. They would send for them and the two opponents could draw lots as to which pair was used.
Then Farkas said, in a worried tone, ‘Where on earth can we find a sabre-sharpener at this hour? Mine are as blunt as anything.’
Here the major interrupted, saying proudly, ‘Mine are sharp as razors! And my man can sharpen the others. He’s very good at it: I taught him myself!’
To make sure that all went smoothly certain responsibilities had to be allocated. Garazda undertook to rouse Kamuthy’s doctor, while Farkas agreed to get the other, and also to collect his two swords. Bogacsy, as a director of the Casino and one of the hosts at the banquet, could not leave the building while the prince was still under its roof, and so he asked Joska to go to his flat and wake his valet who would collect everything necessary and bring it all over, the sabres and the honing instruments. And so it was arranged that everything could be done at once and precisely as it should be.
Bogacsy now returned to the smoking-room and, finding that no one had usurped his chair, sat down again where he had been facing the prince, who was still in full flood. The duelling major listened with joy in his heart.
‘… and from where, I ask you, does duelling stem? Who started this barbaric habit? I tell you, gentlemen, it is the last survival of the medieval auto-da-fé. In those benighted times people still believed that God would intervene and give victory to the one with right on his side, to the gentle and true in heart, while the sinner would perish miserably. Even then, of course, they were apt only to let the most experienced swordsmen take their chance with God’s judgement. But today, gentlemen, today? Who believes that Divine Providence has anything to do with the outcome? Who on earth would be bothered with such nonsense? Nowadays we all know that the victor is he who has had most practice, be it with swords or pistols. Why, the vilest man can kill the most honest! It is terrible, really terrible!’
An approving murmur greeted these words. Even Crookface belched out something, but whether it was in agreement with the royal proposition remained doubtful. Bogacsy, however, nodded his head vigorously at every word.
This was only to be expected for the battling ex-officer had been uncomfortably aware of what a ridiculous figure he had cut before dinner when all the young men, especially those who were now standing about in the background, had been mocking his predicament. Now it was his turn to lead their silent mockery of the philanthropic prince; and the turn of those mocking young brats to admire him, Bogacsy, the perfect second who could listen so impassively to the royal visitor’s absurdly inopportune speeches. Nothing showed in his expression, for it was a golden rule where duelling was concerned, that no one spoke of the encounter until after it had happened. So he sat there stiffly, with his legs stretched out and his paunch protruding, the very picture of authority