They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [80]
Tamas turned back to his brother and without a word to Weissfeld, who had got up, took the latter’s seat.
‘You really should have yourself looked at, Jeno! It could be very serious, very serious indeed,’ and he dropped his voice to a penetrating whisper and went on, ‘Just think about it. Father died of cancer, didn’t he? And they all say there can be a hereditary disposition … not that it’s absolutely certain.’
‘To hell with you!’ said Jeno trying to laugh it off, but his laughter sounded somewhat forced. Tamas knew only too well that he had touched upon Jeno’s weakest spot and that his attempt to scare him was not in vain. Ever since their youth Jeno had had this one fear and so, when Tamas knew that his drop of poison was working, he became all solicitous, and said kindly, ‘Don’t you worry, it’s probably something quite different, too much acidity, or maybe gallstones. Anyhow I certainly should see a doctor!’ Then he turned to the others. ‘Do forgive me! I’m afraid I’ve interrupted a most interesting discussion with this family talk … you really must excuse me!’ and fell silent. The two brothers who hated each other sat side by side, as alike as twins. Apart from one having a beard and the other not they were almost identical, the same tuft of black hair on their otherwise shining skulls, the same enquiring eyebrows and high cheekbones. They even sat in the same way, solid and granitelike, with their hands planted firmly on their knees.
Dr Korosi now went on where he had left off.
He had been talking about the recent announcement that recruiting to the army was to be increased and its equipment modernized. This had happened in January but the details had only just been made public. It seemed that an extra 50,000 men were required and that the annual army budget was to be raised by 20 million crowns, 60,000 of which would be made available immediately. Three weeks before, Lukacs, the Minister of Finance, had given a most reassuring speech declaring that none of these new measures would entail raising taxes, though at the same time he said that more battleships were to be built. Lukacs had spoken with calm assurance and had explained that the Dual Monarchy’s fleet was obsolete compared with those of the other great powers, and that they could not now afford to lag behind in the armaments race that was taking place all over Europe. Austria-Hungary’s continued status as a great power, and as an equal partner with her allies, depended upon her armed forces being on a plane of equality with those of everyone else. He talked about the annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina and the international crisis it had provoked, cited the build-up of the German navy, and referred to the importance to the nation of Hungary’s commercial shipping interests. Dr Korosi went on to recount how the news of the increase in the army had been received with indifference by most people who had become all too accustomed to being told over the years that it would soon be necessary, just as they all knew that the real enemy was Russia and that the Tsar, aided by French millions, had for a long time been preparing for war. The question of the navy, however, was something new and very different. Why, people were asking, did the navy have to be built up? Who was the enemy?
Dr Korosi made the most of this last point, for he was the leader of the opposition party in Transylvania. Speaking with a broad, rather flat, accent, for he came from Szeged, he asked, ‘Whaat therefore is the Naavy to