The political atmosphere was quite different from what it had been when Balint had left Budapest in February. Now, by a sudden volte-face, the leaders of the Andrassy and people’s parties had to accept what they had so often and so publicly rejected. A pact had been made and a new ministry formed. Apart from the three portfolios reserved for nomination by the king — these were the positions of Minister of War, Minister of Croatian Affairs, and the sovereign’s personal representative, the Minister a latere — the cabinet was to consist of three members of the 1848 Party and three members of the 1867 Party, all of whom had voted for the universal suffrage measure. Thus everyone who had opposed the liberalization of voting rights would be excluded.
However, matters did not turn out quite as everyone had feared. That same afternoon Kossuth called a meeting of the central committee of the coalition parties so that he could present and explain the projected agreement.
No one expected what was to follow.
The leaders of the Constitution party and of the People’s Party both announced that they too accepted Kristoffy’s universal suffrage measure.
For a moment there was consternation, until everyone present grasped that though it had been a great sacrifice for these astute politicians suddenly to agree to something they believed dangerous and against the national interest, they had taken this course so as to exclude from office those time-servers who were prepared to ignore the will of the people provided they could be seen to bend the knee to the Emperor. They agreed also so that if the universal suffrage became a reality the running of the state would still be in their own experienced hands. The mood changed immediately. The skies had cleared and now, suddenly everyone ran about in joy and ecstasy shouting that victory had come, that everything they had always wanted was now theirs. Victory! Victory! At last! Never mind if there were no separate army, no Hungarian words of command, no sword-tassels in national colours, never mind if the economic union with Austria remained as strong as ever with no independence for the banks or customs: these issues, of course, were merely postponed. Everyone agreed that a clever formula had been found which upheld the rule of law. Everything was now legal again and so everyone’s face was saved, though no one would have admitted it.
Flags were hoisted all over town and speeches were made to the gathering crowds from the balcony of every party headquarters. The politicians shouted their triumph and the populace roared their approval. El Dorado, the Promised Land, call it what you will, had that day been found in Budapest.
Balint himself was relieved that at least some solution had been found to that dangerous and unhealthy situation which had threatened the stability of the state. His own position was not affected, for Ordung, the sheriff who had been suspended and who was now Prefect of Maros-Torda, did not want any change of member. Ordung had realized that it would not be easy to oppose Abady and so he decided to concentrate all his efforts on the northern part of the district, where until now old Miklos Absolon had held absolute sway. In this he had been supported by Aunt Lizinka, who never let drop her enmity for Absolon and who now came forward as the self-appointed figurehead of the new order. Balint she protected and approved of because, on the eve of the assembly at Vasarhely, he had been her escort when she had tried to enlist that no-good Tamas Laczok, and also because he had shouted ‘Scum!’ at the rioters in the egg battle.
At the same Balint was not happy. There were two things that disturbed him. The first was a phrase in a recent letter from Slawata who wrote: ‘Was wird bei dieser Lösung mit der Wehrbarkeit derMonarchie — what effect will all this have on the defence structure of the Dual Monarchy? It is dangerous to keep on postponing bringing our armies up to date. We alone will come too late into the arms race. Everyone else is hard at it, but we remain idle …’
Balint tried to chase away the thoughts that these words provoked, saying to himself that surely their only enemy was Russia and that she was too preoccupied with recovering from the shameful disaster of the war with Japan, with controlling the latent revolutionary movements, with the recurrent mutinies in the army and the recent re-emergence of pogroms against the Jews, to pose any threat to Austria-Hungary? It would take a long time for Russia to recover her strength, though it was true that, as she had been repulsed in the Far East, it was likely that she would next turn her attention to the Balkans. However, there was time enough to start thinking about that.
The other matter was more personal. As soon as he arrived back in the capital he asked about Laszlo Gyeroffy and, unhappily, the man he asked was Niki Kollonich.
Niki laughed maliciously: ‘Haven’t you heard? Don’t you know about it?’ he said, with obvious enjoyment. ‘You won’t see him at the Casino any more! His gambling went too far, but they allowed him to resign, thank God. He was lucky to escape being thrown out!’
‘You seem pretty pleased about it!’ Balint rounded on him angrily.
‘Not at all,’ the other said hurriedly. ‘I only meant that it was just as well for the rest of us, for his family. It would have been very awkward if there had been a scandal and he’d been thrown out publicly. It was all hushed up.’
Balint went round at once to the apartment house in Museum Street where Laszlo had had his flat. By the entrance door he found a sign posted: FOR RENT. FURNISHED ROOMS WITH PRIVATE ENTRANCE. THIRD FLOOR. He went in search of the hall-porter, who confirmed that, two weeks before, Count Gyeroffy had given up his flat, packed up all his possessions and left.
‘Did he leave an address?’
‘No, but I believe he went back to Transylvania. I don’t really know.’
Chapter Nine
BEFORE GYEROFFY WENT TO VARAD, and afterwards to Kolozsvar where he had the unfortunate encounter with Wickwitz, he had promised Fanny Beredy to remain in Transylvania only for two or three days before returning to go with her, and the rest of her court, Szelepscenyi, d’Orly, Solymar, Devereux and the two nieces, to Milan to hear a new Puccini opera. Fanny hoped that the trip might help wean her lover away from his foolish wasteful life and she had also thought how wonderful it would be to travel together, to stay in the same hotels, spend the nights in each other’s arms, and do so many things that were impossible for them in Budapest where their every move was sure to be seen by someone they knew. When a week had gone by and Laszlo had not returned, she sent him a telegram: no reply. She sent him another and another. Still no reply. Fanny was deeply hurt and, telling herself that her lover needed to be taught a lesson, she swallowed her disappointment and left for Italy with the others.
Gyeroffy got back to Budapest the day after Fanny had left. He arrived late in the evening. In the depressed and self-tormenting mood that he had been unable to shake off since his discovery of Wickwitz’s perfidy and unscrupulous behaviour, nothing would have induced him to remain alone in his cold little furnished apartment. The mere thought of it filled him with repulsion.
All the time in the train from Transylvania, during which he had felt impelled to reassure himself every few minutes that the great wad of banknotes was still safely in the inner pocket of his jacket, for that large sum of money was the sacred ransom by which he would redeem Fanny’s pearls and his own honour, he had been obsessed by the thought that he himself was no better than Wickwitz. You are a scoundrel, he said to himself, just like Nitwit. By what right did you insult him when you are just as guilty as he is? And, as the train rumbled on he kept on repeating to himself to the rhythm of the train’s movement: You’re as bad as he is … as bad as he is … as bad as he is … as bad as he is …