It had been fixed for two o’clock this morning. We have arms enough, and the police and the gendarmery are on our side. But the signal did not come. The bells of the cathedral never sounded.
What has happened? Will it sound to-morrow, or the day after?
If only it is not too late....
March 20th.
The night of the counter-revolution had been fixed for so many dates and had been postponed so many times that hope began to tire. Will it ever come? I thought. With an effort I roused myself from my weariness and concentrated my whole mind once more on expectation.
The town, too, seemed expectant, the very streets on the alert—at any rate so it seemed to me: there was an expectant silence in the very dawn. There were no newspapers—it is said that the compositors have struck for higher wages. I went to the bank. The Government has impounded all deposits, and no money is to be got anywhere. The shutters are drawn and the crowd outside pushes and swears in panic.
All sorts of rumours are flying about. Somebody reports that the Communist army is preparing something: disbanded soldiers are holding threatening meetings all over the suburbs, insisting on the release of Béla Kún and his companions. It is also reported that Michael Károlyi is planning something. In his hatred he had once sworn that he would destroy Tisza, even if the nation had to perish with him. Tisza is dead, but his soul has risen against Károlyi in the whole nation. And so Károlyi prepares a new vengeance. It is rumoured that this is not directed against Magyardom alone, which has regained consciousness and repudiates him, but also against the Entente, which will have nothing to do with him.
What is going to happen to us?
I went to the meeting of the Party of National Unity this afternoon and exchanged a few words with Count Stephen Bethlen. He said that great changes are to be expected; the powers of the Entente had informed Károlyi through their representatives that they would show consideration to a level-headed Government. To give weight to their demand they threatened us through Colonel Vyx with new lines of demarcation. Count Bethlen thought the situation less desperate than it had been lately, and I was reassured for a time.