It was extraordinary that the gay flirtatious woman who he had seen gliding over the ice from one man to another, who had been capable of parrying the overtly sensual advances of Alvinczy and Pityu while continuing to keep them on a string, and who, by enouraging him on Tuesday and failing him on Wednesday, had also reduced Balint to a state of bewildered frustration, could only kiss like a child! After more than three years of marriage and giving birth to a daughter, how was it possible that she would keep her lips tightly closed when kissed by the man she had just said she loved? Something was very wrong!
Balint could think of nothing else the whole time he was with his mother and it was the same back in his own rooms. Even after he had gone to bed he could not sleep but tossed and turned pondering the enigma he had uncovered. When, finally, sleep began to overcome him and the self-questioning that obsessed him started to fade from his mind, Balint became conscious only of a feeling of happiness and wonder. It was as if instead of falling for an experienced woman he had met a virgin who wanted to offer her love but did not know how.
Chapter Nine
BALINT ROSE EARLY and had a bath. Then he dressed with his usual care and was ready and breakfasted well before Tihamer, formally dressed in a black morning coat and carrying a top hat, came to fetch him. Baron Gazsi was waiting for them downstairs and together they went in a closed carriage to the gymnasium, a long barrack-like building which was always used for duels in Kolozsvar.
Abady was led into a small, barely heated dressing-room where he found the physicians and the fencing master awaiting him. On their instructions Balint stripped to the waist and then the physicians bandaged his entire upper body with layers of cotton wool and gauze covered with bands of black silk. When all was ready Balint’s seconds led him into the ice-cold fencing hall, and as they went in another door opened at the far end and Pityu Kendy entered flanked by his seconds, Major Bogacsy dressed like Abonyi in top hat and a morning suit which was too tight for his increasing girth, and Baron Wickwitz, who had put on his dress uniform. He hardly recognized Pityu, who was swathed to the chin with black silk bandages exactly like those they had just wound round Balint.
While the antagonists remained where they were the four seconds advanced, greeted each other ceremoniously and drew for choice of swords. At the same time the physicians started arranging their implements on the benches that lined the walls. To Balint they looked like medieval instruments of torture, strange shaped knives, scissors, saws and tweezers. With them were placed big pharmaceutical jars filled with strange liquids, and piles of cotton wool and gauze bandages. When they declared themselves ready they proceeded to disinfect the pair of sabres that had been selected for the fight, soaking them in carbolic solution until the gymnasium began to smell like a public lavatory. When all this had been done Bogacsy stepped forward to perform his role as principal second. With heavy portentous steps he moved to the centre of the hall, carrying a third sword with which he waved the two antagonists to their appointed places with imperious self-important gestures. Then he spoke, his loud voice echoing in the large hall.
‘Firstly, according to the accepted Code, I invite the parties concerned to make peace!’
Nobody answered; Balint and Pityu had both been warned that any reply at this stage was strictly forbidden. Bogacsy waited for a few moments, then spoke again.
‘For the second time, I invite the parties to make peace!
This is ridiculous! thought Balint. They bring me here, stand me half-naked in a freezing room with a sword in my hand, and then they start playing charades! And if I said now that I’d make peace, I’d be disqualified!
Both antagonists were shivering with cold, but Bogacsy was not to be hurried. His self-importance demanded that he perform his role to the full, leaving nothing undone that the Code demanded should be done. It was clear that the retired major enjoyed these affairs as he enjoyed nothing else in his otherwise humdrum life.
‘For the third time I invite the parties …’
Naturally there was no reply. Balint felt his nose beginning to twitch and was sure he’d catch cold if he stood there any longer.
Bogacsy began again: ‘My bounden duty being fulfilled and both parties having refused to be reconciled … Gentlemen!’ he cried at the top of his voice, his chest thrust out and his huge moustaches bristling‚ ‘En garde!’
Balint and Pityu took up their positions, but they still had to wait for a few moments until Bogacsy ordered: ‘Go!’
Four feet stamped the floor, two swords clashed. When Balint touched his opponent it was as if his sword rebounded like a ball on rubber. That he had been touched himself he did not notice.
‘Stop!’ cried Bogacsy at once. Not to be outdone, Tihamer cried ‘Stop!’ too and, grabbing a sword stepped up to the other side of the duellists from where Bogacsy stood. Balint and Pityu both stopped in their tracks and the physicians hurried over to them with wads of cotton wool in their hands. They dabbed officiously at Pityu’s shoulder and Balint’s elbow, though, as the swords had clashed and lost most of their striking power before touching human flesh, the wounds were barely skin deep and only a drop or so of blood was to be seen.
‘Disabled?’ asked Bogacsy severely.
‘Absolutely!’ cried one of the physicians.
‘Indubitably!’ said the other almost simultaneously. And they continued speaking alternately like priests in church.
‘Gash near the artery …’
‘Deltoid … very nasty!’
‘Danger of haemorrhage!’
‘… paralysis, cramp …’
‘… any sudden movement …’
‘… could be fatal!’
‘Fatal, certainly …’
The retired major clicked his heels: ‘I declare that both parties are disabled!’ With his sword he saluted the whole company present. ‘Gentlemen! Honour is satisfied!’
While one of the doctors stuck an unnecessarily large plaster on Balint’s elbow, Tihamer came up and said in a low voice: ‘Excuse me! Do you want to be reconciled?’
‘Of course,’ said Balint good-humouredly, and walking over to his recent opponent, he shook him by the hand, saying: ‘Hello, Pityu!’ and adding, ‘I really don’t know why we had to fight in the first place!’
This should not have been said, and the seconds pulled long faces and pretended not to have heard. As the remark made light of the importance of their functions they should now, according to the Code of Honour, have demanded satisfaction themselves. Among them only the irrepressible Gazsi turned away unable entirely to suppress his amusement.
This awkward moment having passed, everyone shook hands and, after Balint and Pityu had got back into their own clothes, walked back to the town centre.
‘Let’s go and have some food,’ suggested Bogacsy, who wanted to prolong the occasion as long as he could. Balint did not want to do this as he resented being forced to remain in the company of Wickwitz after what Dinora had told him. The man was clearly a ‘bounder’ and he wanted to have as little do to with him as possible. However, to refuse would have been churlish, so they went towards a coffee-house on the main square. On their way Wickwitz excused himself, saying in German that there were important matters to which he must attend. He saluted and turned away before anyone could ask him to explain.
The reason he had left them was that as they were on their way to the coffee-house they had been passed by Judith Miloth’s young brother, Zoltan, who had surreptitiously touched Egon’s sleeve. Wickwitz used young Zoltan as a combination of spy and message-carrier. In return for the occasional gift of otherwise forbidden cigarettes Judith’s brother would tell the Austrian where his sisters were going that afternoon, with whom they were taking tea or dinner and what their plans were for the following day. Zoltan felt himself very important and did what Wickwitz asked both well and cheerfully. The job made him feel grown-up, especially as he hero-worshipped the handsome athletic young officer.