They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [76]
Even so the news of the ball had somehow come his way, and though this would not normally have attracted him, he had also heard that old Countess Sarmasaghy was to be one of the patrons together with his younger brother Jeno. To cap it all he had been at the station that morning and had seen the arrival of the banker, Baron Weissfeld, and his family, who had come to attend the ball. The presence of these three had made him decide to put in an appearance himself.
In this he was prompted only by the dislike, amounting to hate, which he felt for all three of them. He was convinced that his brother had plotted with the banker to deprive him of his rightful share of the Laczok forestry holdings and further, that it had been Aunt Lizinka who had played a major part in seeing that he had been disowned by his family at the time he had been sowing his wild oats. The result had been years of exile. It was, of course, true that this experience had made a new man of him, for it was this that had led him first to study in Paris and obtain his engineering degrees and then to find a position with an international firm that had first sent him to Durazzo on a construction job and later to work on the building of a railway across the Atlas mountains. He had remained in Algeria for many years and he could have stayed there with a position of great responsibility. But he had decided that he would rather hold some secondary post at home with the Hungarian State Railways, partly because he had come to realize that he only felt really at home back in Transylvania and also because if he were to return he would be able to haunt his much hated brother and perhaps also find the means of revenging himself upon his old enemies.
If this was the main reason why he had decided to attend the ball, he had also got wind of the scandalous tales that his aunt was now spreading about him. He had arrived late because he had not at once been able to find his evening clothes, and when he had found them his gypsy servant had had to iron them and then he had had to come into town, locate a shop that would supply him with a stiff shirt and white tie, and then go back to Bretfu to dress.
All this conspired to make him late. Now that he had finally arrived he looked around, peering above the heads of the dancing throng, until he saw his aunt and sister-in-law on the official dais and he realized that if Ida Laczok was there her husband could not be far away. Then he saw Baroness Weissfeld fanning herself on a chair near the others. Screened by the multitude of dancing couples he threaded his way, stooping slightly like a big game hunter stalking a pride of lions, towards his much disliked relations, carefully keeping out of their sight until he could suddenly burst before them from among the throng of dancers.
The surprise he caused them was as successful as he had hoped.
A little while before most of the older men had vanished from the official platform and taken refuge in the hotel’s smoking room. It was one of the rooms put at the disposal of the Comte d’Eu during his recent visit. The Patronesses, however, had not moved from their place of honour. There, right at the front, were Countess Kamuthy, Baroness Weissfeld, and Tamas’s sister-in-law, Ida Laczok. They were listening open-mouthed to Aunt Lizinka who, since she had successfully fought, and won, a battle in the courts to regain her husband’s properties during the repressive régime of Count von Bach after the 1848 uprising sixty years before, had prided herself on her knowledge of the law. Aunt Lizinka was now in full flood describing the criminal proceedings which, according to her, now threatened her nephew Tamas.
At this point she was saying, ‘My dears, it is quite clear. The law says that such persons must not only be locked up but also condemned to five years’ hard labour. I know for a fact that the police have already put out a search for the little whore’s birth certificate and that her old clay-digging