The Trial - Franz Kafka (best novels for students TXT) 📗

living in the country for twenty years now, almost without a break, you lose your ability to deal with matters like this. But I do have some important connections with several people who, I expect, know their way around these things better than I do, and to contact them is a matter of course. Out there in the country I’ve been getting out of condition, I’m sure you’re already aware of that. It’s only at times like this that you notice it yourself. And this affair of yours came largely unexpected, although, oddly enough, I had expected something of the sort after I’d read Erna’s letter, and today when I saw your face I knew it with almost total certainty. But all that is by the by, the important thing now is, we have no time to lose.” Even while he was still speaking, K.‘s uncle had stood on tiptoe to summon a taxi and now he pulled K. into the car behind himself as he called out an address to the driver. “We’re going now to see Dr. Huld, the lawyer,” he said, “we were at school together. I’m sure you know the name, don’t you? No?

Well that is odd. He’s got a very good reputation as a defence barrister and for working with the poor. But I esteem him especially as someone you can trust.” “It’s alright with me, whatever you do,” said K., although he was made uneasy by the rushed and urgent way his uncle was dealing with the matter. It was not very encouraging, as the accused, be to taken to a lawyer for poor people. “I didn’t know,” he said, “that you could take on a lawyer in matters like this.” “Well of course you can,” said his uncle, “that goes without saying. Why wouldn’t you take on a lawyer? And now, so that I’m properly instructed in this matter, tell me what’s been happening so far.” K. instantly began telling his uncle about what had been happening, holding nothing back - being completely open with him was the only way that K. could protest at his uncle’s belief that the trial was a great disgrace. He mentioned Miss Bürstner’s name just once and in passing, but that did nothing to diminish his openness about the trial as Miss Bürstner had no connection with it. As he spoke, he looked out the window and saw how, just then, they were getting closer to the suburb where the court offices were. He drew this to his uncle’s attention, but he did not find the coincidence especially remarkable. The taxi stopped in front of a dark building. K.‘s uncle knocked at the very first door at ground level; while they waited he smiled, showing his big teeth, and whispered, “Eight o’clock; not the usual sort of time to be visiting a lawyer, but Huld won’t mind it from me.” Two large, black eyes appeared in the spy-hatch in the door, they stared at the two visitors for a while and then disappeared; the door, however, did not open. K. and his uncle confirmed to each other the fact that they had seen the two eyes.

“A new maid, afraid of strangers,” said K.‘s uncle, and knocked again.

The eyes appeared once more. This time they seemed almost sad, but the open gas flame that burned with a hiss close above their heads gave off little light and that may have merely created an illusion. “Open the door,” called K.‘s uncle, raising his fist against it, “we are friends of Dr. Huld, the lawyer!” “Dr. Huld is ill,” whispered someone behind them. In a doorway at the far end of a narrow passage stood a man in his dressing gown, giving them this information in an extremely quiet voice. K.‘s uncle, who had already been made very angry by the long wait, turned abruptly round and retorted, “Ill? You say he’s ill?” and strode towards the gentleman in a way that seemed almost threatening, as if he were the illness himself. “They’ve opened the door for you, now,”

said the gentleman, pointing at the door of the lawyer. He pulled his dressing gown together and disappeared. The door had indeed been opened, a young girl - K. recognised the dark, slightly bulging eyes -

stood in the hallway in a long white apron, holding a candle in her hand. “Next time, open up sooner!” said K.‘s uncle instead of a greeting, while the girl made a slight curtsey. “Come along, Josef,” he then said to K. who was slowly moving over towards the girl. “Dr. Huld is unwell,” said the girl as K.‘s uncle, without stopping, rushed towards one of the doors. K. continued to look at the girl in amazement as she turned round to block the way into the living room, she had a round face like a puppy’s, not only the pale cheeks and the chin were round but the temples and the hairline were too. “Josef!” called his uncle once more, and he asked the girl, “It’s trouble with his heart, is it?” “I think it is, sir,” said the girl, who by now had found time to go ahead with the candle and open the door into the room. In one corner of the room, where the light of the candle did not reach, a face with a long beard looked up from the bed. “Leni, who’s this coming in?” asked the lawyer, unable to recognise his guests because he was dazzled by the candle. “It’s your old friend, Albert,” said K.‘s uncle. “Oh, Albert,”

said the lawyer, falling back onto his pillow as if this visit meant he would not need to keep up appearances. “Is it really as bad as that?”

asked K.‘s uncle, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t believe it is. It’s a recurrence of your heart trouble and it’ll pass over like the other times.” “Maybe,” said the lawyer quietly, “but it’s just as much trouble as it’s ever been. I can hardly breathe, I can’t sleep at all and I’m getting weaker by the day.” “I see,” said K.‘s uncle, pressing his panama hat firmly against his knee with his big hand.

“That is bad news. But are you getting the right sort of care? And it’s so depressing in here, it’s so dark. It’s a long time since I was last here, but it seemed to me friendlier then. Even your young lady here doesn’t seem to have much life in her, unless she’s just pretending.” The maid was still standing by the door with the candle; as far as could be made out, she was watching K. more than she was watching his uncle even while the latter was still speaking about her.

K. leant against a chair that he had pushed near to the girl. “When you’re as ill as I am,” said the lawyer, “you need to have peace. I don’t find it depressing.” After a short pause he added, “and Leni looks after me well, she’s a good girl.” But that was not enough to persuade K.‘s uncle, he had visibly taken against his friend’s carer and, even though he did not contradict the invalid, he persecuted her with his scowl as she went over to the bed, put the candle on the bedside table and, leaning over the bed, made a fuss of him by tidying the pillows. K.‘s uncle nearly forgot the need to show any consideration for the man who lay ill in bed, he stood up, walked up and down behind the carer, and K. would not have been surprised if he had grabbed hold of her skirts behind her and dragged her away from the bed.

K. himself looked on calmly, he was not even disappointed at finding the lawyer unwell, he had been able to do nothing to oppose the enthusiasm his uncle had developed for the matter, he was glad that this enthusiasm had now been distracted without his having to do anything about it. His uncle, probably simply wishing to be offensive to the lawyer’s attendant, then said, “Young lady, now please leave us alone for a while, I have some personal matters to discuss with my friend.” Dr.

Huld’s carer was still leant far over the invalid’s bed and smoothing out the cloth covering the wall next to it, she merely turned her head and then, in striking contrast with the anger that first stopped K.‘s uncle from speaking and then let the words out in a gush, she said very quietly, “You can see that Dr. Huld is so ill that he can’t discuss any matters at all.” It was probably just for the sake of convenience that she had repeated the words spoken by K.‘s uncle, but an onlooker might even have perceived it as mocking him and he, of course, jumped up as if he had just been stabbed. “You damned … ,” in the first gurglings of his excitement his words could hardly be understood, K. was startled even though he had been expecting something of the sort and ran to his uncle with the intention, no doubt, of closing his mouth with both his hands. Fortunately, though, behind the girl, the invalid raised himself up, K.‘s uncle made an ugly face as if swallowing something disgusting and then, somewhat calmer, said, “We have naturally not lost our senses, not yet; if what I am asking for were not possible I would not be asking for it. Now please, go!” The carer stood up straight by the bed directly facing K.‘s uncle, K. thought he noticed that with one hand she was stroking the lawyer’s hand. “You can say anything in front of Leni,” said the invalid, in a tone that was unmistakably imploring.

“It’s not my business,” said K.‘s uncle, “and it’s not my secrets.” And he twisted himself round as if wanting to go into no more negotiations but giving himself a little more time to think. “Whose business is it then?” asked the lawyer in an exhausted voice as he leant back again.

“My nephew’s,” said K.‘s uncle, “and I’ve brought him along with me.”

And he introduced him, “Chief Clerk Josef K.” “Oh!” said the invalid, now with much more life in him, and reached out his hand towards K. “Do forgive me, I didn’t notice you there at all.” Then he then said to his carer, “Leni, go,” stretching his hand out to her as if this were a farewell that would have to last for a long time. This time the girl offered no resistance. “So you,” he finally said to K.‘s uncle, who had also calmed down and stepped closer, “you haven’t come to visit me because I’m ill but you’ve come on business.” The lawyer now looked so much stronger that it seemed the idea of being visited because he was ill had somehow made him weak, he remained supporting himself of one elbow, which must have been rather tiring, and continually pulled at a lock of hair in the middle of his beard. “You already look much better,” said K.‘s uncle, “now that that witch has gone outside.” He interrupted himself, whispered, “I bet you she’s listening!” and sprang over to the door. But behind the door there was no-one, K.‘s uncle came back not disappointed, as her not listening seemed to him worse than if she had been, but probably somewhat embittered. “You’re mistaken about her,” said the lawyer, but did nothing more to defend her; perhaps that was his way of indicating that she did not need defending. But in a tone that was much more committed he went on, “As far as your nephew’s affairs are concerned, this will be an extremely difficult undertaking and I’d count myself lucky if my strength lasted out long enough for it; I’m greatly afraid it won’t do, but anyway I don’t want to leave anything