Next it was important to find some task, or problem, that he could put in the young count’s way that would occupy him so much that he would be deflected from taking too much interest in the running of the farms or the relations with the Denestornya estate tenants. From a hint or two that Azbej had picked up during his first talk with Balint, the lawyer had noticed that the new young master had not seemed entirely convinced by his report on the forestry management. The forests were some way from Denestornya … in the mountains … ah, there lay the solution! From the few objections that Balint had raised he realized that the young man had ideas of his own for introducing modern theories of planting and felling, and installing modern equipment in the saw-mills. Well, let him! Let him get involved in all the petty intrigues going on among the men in the mountain villages! Let him sink his teeth into the lengthy negotiations that would be necessary! Let him find out all the difficulties for himself: he’d have his hands full there all right!
Azbej laid his plans carefully. He sent instructions to Beles for the forest manager to present himself at Denestornya directly after the Christmas holiday. Everything went just as he had hoped, for Kalman Nyiresy was of the old school and, overconscious of his status as a member of the minor country gentry, made no effort to ingratiate himself with the young count. Where Azbej had cunningly disguised his contempt for his employer and thus had made a good first impression, Nyiresy, puffed up with a sense of his own importance, sat down before being invited, lit an evil-smelling meerschaum pipe and, in a patronizing manner, was unwise enough to admit that he had not himself set foot in the Abady forests for over ten years. Why should he? He knew every tree as well as his own hand! Balint realized at once that the old man was incompetent and, worse, arrogant. When, coldly, he stated his intention of making a tour of inspection directly after the New Year, Nyiresy burst into loud derisive laughter.
‘You don’t know what you’re saying, sir! Not even bears go there in winter … or birds either, for that matter!’
Azbej, seeing that the old man had made just the impression he had hoped for, then intervened and made him agree to supply horses and guides as soon as word arrived from the castle.
‘Well, sir, you can do as you like, I don’t mind! Nothing’ll come of it, mark my words! I’ll offer your Lordship some good wine and the hospitality of my house, but go up there? Ha, ha! Quite impossible!’ and, still laughing at the young Count’s folly and ignorance, he took his leave.
As it turned out Balint was prevented from going when he had planned. On 5 January Tisza dissolved Parliament and announced new election for the 28th of the same month. Despite his previous decision to abandon politics, Balint renewed his candidature and postponed his trip to the mountains until February so that he could work on his election speeches.
The election campaign had been carefully engineered by Azbej.
Living at Kuttyfalva was a man of the lesser nobility whose name was Janko Cseresznyes, which meant ‘cherry-tree’. He had once been town clerk, though only for a short time before losing the job for reasons that were never made public. Since then he had become a jack of all trades, now selling farm produce, now doing a little horse-coping, now buying and selling cattle or farm machinery. He did not mind what he set his hand to. It was, however, at election time that he really came into his own for his real talent was rabble-rousing. With a huge voice capable of making itself heard above the loudest hubbub and a wicked sense of humour, he was in his element whenever a new election provided a demand for his services. And these services were given to whichever party would pay the best. Though naturally inclined to the left, he usually found that the government side would pay more. Azbej who had previously found his services useful and employed him when certain rather shady deals were in the offing, sent Cseresznyes to Balint’s constituency at Lelbanya with instructions to round up an impressive delegation of local notabilities and bring them to Kolozsvar to beg the count, whom they loved so much, not to desert them.
This delegation arrived on 7 January. Headed by Janko Cseresznyes it consisted of about ten people; the chemist and public notary in black morning coats, the judge and a few other prominent citizens in navy-blue Sunday suits, and also some shabbily-dressed peasants, as Janko thought that a group drawn from all social classes would be all the more effective. They brought with them a written petition with some two hundred signatures begging Count Balint Abady to renew his candidature and thus not forsake his faithful friends. The judge, who was also the mayor, made a speech and Janko, who felt it had not been sufficiently forceful, backed it up with another improvised peroration which brought in the thousand-year-old Hungarian Constitution, the wickedness of German-speaking foreigners, the tobacco concessions, Kossuth, taxation, the greatness of the Noble Count’s illustrious ancestors and free access to salt deposits! Balint was duly impressed by this show of mass affection and reluctantly agreed to stand again.
On 14 January he addressed the people of Lelbanya from a first floor window of the town hall which overlooked the market-place. To Balint’s surprise he was received with a marked lack of enthusiasm which, despite an occasional cheer to break the general silence, almost amounted to hostility. He thought that maybe this was due to the extreme cold and Azbej, who accompanied him back to Kolozsvar, confirmed that this must be the reason and assured him that all would be well.
But it wasn’t.
The political fever that swept Budapest had spread even to the little town of Lelbanya where the atmosphere was no different from that anywhere else. The leading articles in the Budapest papers and the party manifestos, filled as they were with the election slogans and ringing war-cries of party strife, were passed eagerly from hand to hand and provoked as much argument and bad blood among the citizens of Lelbanya as they did among the more sophisticated habitués of the Casino Club in the capital. In one sense the discontent aroused in the little country town became even more serious as the date of the election approached. It was such a small constituency that it returned only one member and now, just as the independence of Hungary seemed threatened by the complacency of the ruling party, there was only one serious candidate — and he was no revolutionary vote-buying politician from the capital but only their own Count Abady, the owner of the lake and the industries that depended on it, who relied on his social position to get elected but from whom the locals could expect no other benefit, and certainly no bribes! Unrest mounted to such a point that Abady’s prospect of election became far from certain.
Azbej had already sensed what was happening and when Janko Cseresznyes, worried by the seriousness of this unexpected development which threatened both their interests, went to see the little lawyer to explain that money, and quite a lot of it, would be needed if the count were to have any hope of being re-elected. They whispered together, made notes on slips of paper, added up some figures … and a wad of banknotes disappeared into Janko’s pocket.
Three days later Mr Azbej presented himself to Countess Roza, now installed for the winter in her town house at Kolozsvar. Mysteriously he asked for a private interview. This was so unusual that, for once, the Countess asked the two ladies to leave the room and turned questioningly to the little lawyer who stood, wringing his hands and bowing with an excess of apparent humility and embarrassment.
A long and flowery speech followed. Before reaching the real reason for the interview Azbej dwelt on how long and faithfully he had served her Ladyship’s interests, how he had always worked only to maintain the good name of the Counts Abady whose great past had contributed much glory to the nation’s history and how he would go to any lengths to shield her Ladyship and His Excellency the Count Balint from any embarrassment or affront.