Bearing all this in mind the notary said: ‘They’ve got to learn how to serve the community themselves, and not to expect that everything is handed to them on a plate! They’re all far too used to having things given to them. Of course they were spoiled by getting money at the time of the elections! That’s why they’ve no interest in matters of public welfare, as there is in other small towns.’
Balint thought about the odd circumstances when he had been elected himself. ‘Honestly now, tell me, did they get money at the last election? I’d very much like to know!’
Kovacs smiled. ‘At the last election, no! I can guarantee that at neither of your Lordship’s elections did money pass. You can rest assured of that!’
For the first time in their talk the notary had found himself obliged to go further than merely suppressing part of the truth. These last words were a lie. He knew perfectly well all the details of how Azbej and Cherrytree had rigged the elections between them and how they had been cursed for it by the electorate. However, he felt that the moment had come for discretion and when motives of self-protection must outweigh other considerations. The count must be told what he clearly wanted to hear, whether true or not; because if he were told what everyone had conspired to keep from him, it was certain that sooner or later Azbej would revenge himself on whoever had revealed the truth.
Abady was most relieved. He had been worried about the election and now knew he would have to find some explanation other than that he had feared. Filled with goodwill to the notary, he started to thank him for all his help and co-operation.
‘I really am most grateful to you, Mr Notary,’ he said. ‘I can see how busy you are,’ he continued, pointing to the piles of official documents on the desk, ‘and I do appreciate all that you have agreed to do!’
Kovacs waved at the evidence of his work in a gesture of dismissaclass="underline" ‘I’m quite used to it! After sixteen years I can carry the burden. That’s what the town notary’s for! Not many people appreciate just what it involves. Why, there isn’t a new law made by a minister, country sheriff, or instruction concerning taxes or building standards, or whatever, that doesn’t come through this office and fall on my shoulders. People at the top don’t realize, when they make even a quite simple order, that all the burden falls on those on the lowest rung of the ladder. No matter how hard a notary works he’s always in arrears … and not only that, if he makes a mistake, there’s the disciplinary commission hanging over his head! But, never fear, what your Lordship has in mind won’t add too much to the load. I’ll do it gladly!
‘I really am deeply grateful,’ said Balint, shaking his hand warmly. ‘If I can be of any service, I’d be very happy.’
‘Your Lordship is most kind,’ said the notary, ‘but for the moment I cannot think of anything. Perhaps one day in the future. In the meantime I serve my country!’
Abady then took his leave of the notary and made his way to the pastor’s house. As he went he reflected that nothing he had learned during his law studies at the university had given him the smallest insight into the tremendous work-load that a country notary had to shoulder.
Daniel Kovacs stood for a moment on the threshold of his office following Balint with his eyes until he arrived at the front door of the priest’s house. Then he returned to his desk and, as it was starting to get dark, lit the paper-shaded paraffin lamp that stood on his desk.
This count isn’t a bad fellow, he thought to himself, not a bad fellow at all, but, oh dear, how little he knows about life! He’s like a child in some matters, but I won’t let them take advantage of him! And he sat pensively for a little while before putting on his glasses, picking up the next document from the pile on his right, and starting to read:
‘I have been informed that Domonkos Kacsa alias Kukui or Bubura, former delinquent and now vagrant, has been seen in Lelbanya. You are therefore ordered to check upon the situation and report to me within forty-eighthours, failing which …’
Chapter Eleven
IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS Balint went back to Lelbanya twice, on the first occasion to bring with him the General Secretary of the Hungarian Co-operative Movement’s central office, and on the second to attend a meeting of the preparatory committee. This last went far better than he had expected and Balint was surprised by the degree of serious attention that the townsfolk of Lelbanya devoted to the project, which, of course, was principally due to the notary’s discreet and well-thought-out preparations.
Even at this meeting some of those present themselves raised the question of the property, proposing that the tailor’s lodging should be immediately taken over so as to allow the co-operative to move its office there. As it happened the majority were opposed to this, which suited Balint as his mother had unexpectedly opposed cancelling the tenants’ leases.
‘I am very, very surprised’, said Countess Roza one night as she drank her after-dinner coffee, ‘that you should have seen fit to make plans for the house at Lelbanya without first mentioning the matter to me!’ Mrs Tothy and Mrs Baczo had already left the room on a gesture from the countess, who went on, ‘You can imagine what I felt when the first I hear about it all is when those poor people feel impelled to write to me themselves from Lelbanya … not from you, but from our poor tenants!
Balint apologized to his mother. He explained that he had not wanted to bother her until he had first seen the property and checked that the project was feasible and the house convenient for the purpose he had in mind and, when he had seen it, there had not appeared to be any reason to raise the matter as nothing had yet been proposed officially.
Countess Roza was not to be mollified. ‘That is not the point! I am saying that you did this behind my back and that I am extremely hurt and upset! The first thing I hear about it is — well, read it for yourself! It’s from the tailor and the joiner …’ and she fished a letter out of the Chinese lacquer bowl that stood on the table in front of her.
‘Have mercy on us, most Noble and Gracious Countess! On bended knees we beg …’ and so on, one obsequious phrase leading to the next and all of them describing their terrible plight in terms of humble flattery. They related how they and their families had ever been devoted servants to the Noble and Gracious Countess’s family, how they were now menaced with losing their livelihood and being thrown out on the streets with their helpless children, how they kept the property in good order, as far as they were able, and paid their rents regularly, when they could, how they were beggared by the expense of maintenance and were already in a state of dire misery and if, now they were to have to take to the roads like vagrant beggars … And so it went on, with many repetitions but only one theme.
‘These good people are lying to you, Mama,’ said Balint after reading the letter. ‘The house and gardens are both in a disgraceful condition because of their negligence, no one else’s! I’ve seen it all for myself. Azbej told me that the carpenter hasn’t paid a sou in years and he was about to give notice to the tailor for the same reason.’