Part 12

There was, however, for the present no reason for excessive worry. He had managed, in a relatively short time, to work his way up to his high position in the bank and to maintain himself in it with everyone's recognition; he now only needed to turn those abilities that had made this possible somewhat toward the proceedings, and there was no doubt that it must turn out well. Above all, if anything was to be achieved, it was necessary to reject from the outset any thought of a possible guilt. There was no guilt. The proceedings were nothing other than a large business transaction, such as he had often concluded to the bank's advantage—a transaction within which, as was the rule, various dangers lurked that simply had to be warded off. For this purpose one must by no means toy with thoughts of any guilt, but rather hold fast as firmly as possible to the thought of one's own advantage. From this point of view it was also unavoidable to withdraw representation from the advocate very soon, best of all that very evening. Though by his accounts it was something unheard-of and probably very insulting, K. could not permit his efforts in the proceedings to encounter obstacles perhaps instigated by his own advocate. But once the advocate had been shaken off, the petition had to be submitted at once, and preferably pressed for its consideration every single day thereafter. For this purpose it would naturally not suffice that K. sat in the corridor like the others and placed his hat under the bench. He himself, or the women, or other messengers, had to overrun the officials day after day and force them, instead of looking through the grating out onto the corridor, to sit down at their desks and study K.'s petition. One must not desist from these exertions; everything had to be organized and supervised; the court should once come upon a defendant who knew how to safeguard his rights.

But though K. dared to carry all this out, the difficulty of composing the petition was overwhelming. Earlier, perhaps still a week ago, he could only have thought of having once to make such a petition himself with a feeling of shame; that it could also be difficult had not occurred to him at all. He recalled how one morning, when he was just buried in work, he had suddenly pushed everything aside and taken up his writing pad to try sketching the line of thought for such a petition and perhaps place it at the disposal of the ponderous advocate, and how precisely at that moment the door of the director's office had opened and the deputy director entered with loud laughter. It had been very embarrassing for K. at the time, even though the deputy director had of course not laughed at the petition, of which he knew nothing, but at a stock-exchange joke he had just heard—a joke that required a drawing for its understanding, which the deputy director, leaning over K.'s desk, then executed on the writing pad with K.'s pencil, which he took from his hand, the pad that had been intended for the petition.

Today K. knew nothing more of shame; the petition had to be made. If he found no time for it at the office, which was very probable, then he had to do it at home in the nights. If even the nights should not suffice, then he had to take a leave of absence. Only not to stop halfway—that was, not only in business but always and everywhere, the most senseless thing. The petition did indeed mean an almost endless labor. One need not have a very anxious character and could yet easily come to believe that it was impossible ever to complete the petition. Not out of laziness or guile, which alone could keep the advocate from completing it, but because, in ignorance of the existing charge and even of its possible extensions, the whole life in its smallest actions and events had to be brought back into memory, presented, and examined from all sides. And how melancholy such work was besides. It might serve, once after retirement, to occupy a mind grown childish and help pass the long days. But now, when K. needed all his thoughts for his work, when every hour, while he was still on the rise and already a threat to the deputy director, fled by with greatest speed, and when he wanted to enjoy the short evenings and nights as a young man—now he was to begin composing this petition. Again his thinking dissolved into complaints. Almost involuntarily, merely to put an end to it, he groped with his finger for the button of the electric bell that led to the anteroom. While pressing it, he looked up at the clock. It was 11 o'clock; two hours, a long precious time, he had dreamt away and was naturally more exhausted than before. Still, the time was not lost; he had formed resolutions that could be valuable. The servants brought, besides various mail, two visiting cards of gentlemen who had already been waiting for K. for some time. They were very important bank clients who really should on no account have been kept waiting. Why did they come at so inconvenient a time?—and why, it seemed the gentlemen behind the closed door were asking again, did the diligent K. devote the best business hours to private affairs? Weary from what had gone before and weary in anticipation of what was to follow, K. stood up to receive the first.

He was a small, lively gentleman, a manufacturer, whom K. knew well. He regretted having disturbed K. in important work, and K. for his part regretted having kept the manufacturer waiting so long. But even this regret he expressed in so mechanical a way and with almost false emphasis that the manufacturer, had he not been entirely absorbed by the business matter, must have noticed it. Instead, the manufacturer hurriedly drew accounts and tables from all his pockets, spread them before K., explained various items, corrected a small arithmetical error that had even struck him in this cursory survey, reminded K. of a similar transaction he had concluded with him about a year ago, mentioned in passing that this time another bank was bidding for the business at greatest sacrifice, and finally fell silent to learn K.'s opinion. K. had in fact followed the manufacturer's speech well at first; the thought of the important business had then also seized him, unfortunately not for long; he soon strayed from listening, then nodded his head for a while to the manufacturer's louder exclamations, but finally omitted even that and confined himself to looking at the bald head bent over the papers and asking himself when the manufacturer would finally realize that his whole speech was useless. When he now fell silent, K. at first really believed it was to give him opportunity for the admission that he was incapable of listening. But only with regret did he notice from the tense gaze of the manufacturer, evidently prepared for any reply, that the business discussion had to continue. He therefore inclined his head as before a command and began to move the pencil slowly back and forth over the papers; now and then he paused and stared at a figure. The manufacturer suspected objections; perhaps the figures were not really fixed, perhaps they were not the decisive thing; in any case the manufacturer covered the papers with his hand and began anew, moving very close to K., a general exposition of the business. "It is difficult," said K., wrinkled his lips, and, since the papers, the only tangible thing, were covered, sank helplessly against the armrest. He scarcely even looked up when the door of the director's office opened and there, not quite distinctly, as if behind a gauze veil, the deputy director appeared. K. gave it no further thought, but only followed the immediate effect, which was very pleasing to him. For the manufacturer immediately hopped up from his chair and hurried toward the deputy director, and K. would have liked to make him ten times quicker, for he feared the deputy director might disappear again. It was needless fear; the gentlemen met, shook hands, and walked together toward K.'s desk. The manufacturer complained that he had found so little inclination for the business in the junior partner, and pointed at K., who bent again over the papers under the deputy director's gaze. As the two then leaned against the desk and the manufacturer set about winning over the deputy director, it seemed to K. as if above his head two men, whose stature he imagined exaggerated, were negotiating about himself. Slowly he tried with cautiously upward-turned eyes to discover what was happening above; without looking he took one of the papers from the desk, laid it on his flat hand, and gradually, as he himself stood up, raised it to the gentlemen. In doing so he thought of nothing definite, but acted only in the feeling that he must behave thus if he had once completed the great petition that was to exonerate him entirely. The deputy director, who participated in the conversation with full attention, glanced only fleetingly at the paper, did not even read what stood there, for what was important to the junior partner was unimportant to him, took it from K.'s hand, said "thank you, I already know everything," and calmly laid it back on the desk. K. looked at him bitterly from the side. But the deputy director noticed it not at all, or, if he noticed, was only thereby encouraged; he laughed out loud several times, once with a quick retort put the manufacturer in clear embarrassment, from which he immediately rescued him by raising an objection to himself, and finally invited him to come over to his office, where they could conclude the matter. "It is a very important affair," he said to the manufacturer, "I see that completely. And the junior partner"—even in this remark he was really speaking only to the manufacturer—"will certainly be glad if we take it off his hands. The matter demands calm consideration. But he seems very overburdened today; moreover, some people in the anteroom have already been waiting for him for hours." K. had just enough composure to turn away from the deputy director and direct his friendly but rigid smile only at the manufacturer; otherwise he did not intervene at all, but supported himself somewhat bent forward with both hands on the desk like a clerk behind the counter, and watched the two gentlemen, amid further talk, take the papers from the desk and disappear into the director's office. In the doorway the manufacturer turned once more, said he was not yet taking his leave, but would of course report to the junior partner on the success of the discussion, and also had another small communication to make to him.

At last K. was alone. He did not think at all of admitting any other party, and only dimly did it come to his consciousness how pleasant it was that the people outside believed he was still conferring with the manufacturer and that for this reason no one, not even the servant, could enter. He went to the window, sat on the sill, held on with one hand to the handle, and looked out onto the square. The snow was still falling; it had not cleared up at all.

He sat thus for a long time without knowing what actually troubled him; only now and then he glanced somewhat startled over his shoulder toward the anteroom door, where he had mistakenly believed he heard a noise. But since no one came, he grew calmer, went to the washstand, washed with cold water, and returned with a freer head to his place by the window. The resolution to take his defense into his own hands now presented itself as more weighty than he had originally assumed. As long as he had shifted the defense onto the advocate, he had after all been scarcely affected by the proceedings at bottom; he had observed them from afar and could hardly be reached by them directly, he had been able to see, whenever he wished, how his case stood, but he had also been able to draw his head back again whenever he wished. Now, however, if he would conduct his own defense, he had to expose himself wholly and entirely to the court, at least for the moment; the success of this was to be, for later, his complete and final liberation, but to attain this he had for the present certainly to enter into far greater danger than before. Had he wanted to doubt it, today's meeting with the deputy director and the manufacturer could have convinced him sufficiently of the opposite. How he had sat there, already utterly dazed by the mere resolution to defend himself! But how would it be later? What days lay before him! Would he find the path that led through everything to a good end? Did not a careful defense—and everything else was senseless—did not a careful defense mean simultaneously the necessity of shutting oneself off as much as possible from everything else? Would he survive that happily? And how should its execution succeed at the bank? It was not only a matter of the petition, for which a leave of absence might have sufficed, though the request for leave just now would have been a great risk; it was a matter of an entire proceedings whose duration was unforeseeable. What an obstacle had suddenly been thrown into K.'s career!

And now he was to work for the bank?—He looked at the desk.—Now he was to admit parties and negotiate with them? While his proceedings rolled on, while up in the attic the court officials sat over the writings of this proceedings, was he to attend to the bank's business? Did it not look like a torture, recognized by the court, connected with the proceedings and accompanying it? And would they in the bank, in judging his work, take his special situation into account? No one and never. His proceedings were not entirely unknown, though it was not yet quite clear who knew of it and how much. But hopefully the rumor had not yet reached the deputy director, otherwise one would already have had to see clearly how he would exploit it against K. without any collegiality or humanity. And the director? Certainly he was well-disposed toward K., and he would probably, as soon as he learned of the proceedings, have wanted to arrange various reliefs for K. so far as lay in his power; but he would certainly not have gotten through with that, for he was now, since the counterweight that K. had hitherto formed was beginning to weaken, increasingly subject to the influence of the deputy director, who moreover exploited the director's ailing state to strengthen his own power. What, then, had K. to hope for? Perhaps he weakened his power of resistance through such reflections, but it was also necessary not to deceive himself and to see everything as clearly as was momentarily possible.

Without special reason, only to avoid having to return to the desk for the present, he opened the window. It opened only with difficulty; he had to turn the handle with both hands. Then through the window, in its full width and height, the smoke-mingled fog drew into the room and filled it with a slight smell of burning. A few snowflakes were also blown in. "An ugly autumn," said the manufacturer behind K., who, coming from the deputy director, had entered the room unnoticed. K. nodded and looked uneasily at the manufacturer's briefcase, from which he would now presumably draw the papers to inform K. of the result of the negotiations with the deputy director. But the manufacturer followed K.'s gaze, tapped his case, and said, without opening it: "You want to hear how it turned out. I'm already carrying almost the business conclusion in my case. A charming person, your deputy director, but by no means harmless." He laughed, shook K.'s hand, and wanted to make him laugh too. But it now again seemed suspicious to K. that the manufacturer would not show him the papers, and he found nothing in the manufacturer's remark to laugh at. "Junior partner," said the manufacturer, "you are suffering from the weather, I suppose. You look so depressed today." "Yes," said K., and put his hand to his temple, "headache, family worries." "Very true," said the manufacturer, who was a hasty person and could listen to no one calmly, "everyone has his cross to bear." Unwittingly K. had taken a step toward the door, as if to accompany the manufacturer out, but the latter said: "I have, junior partner, still a small communication for you. I greatly fear that I may perhaps be bothering you with it precisely today, but I have already been with you twice lately and each time forgotten it. But if I put it off further, it will probably lose its purpose entirely. But that would be a pity, for in essence my communication is perhaps not worthless after all." Before K. had time to answer, the manufacturer stepped close to him, tapped lightly with his knuckle on his chest, and said softly: "You have a proceedings, don't you?" K. stepped back and cried at once: "The deputy director told you that." "Oh no," said the manufacturer, "how should the deputy director know it?" "Through you?" asked K., already much more composed. "I hear something of the court now and then," said the manufacturer, "that is precisely the communication I wanted to make to you." "So many people are in connection with the court!" said K. with lowered head, and led the manufacturer to the desk. They sat down again as before, and the manufacturer said: "Unfortunately it is not very much that I can tell you. But in such matters one should neglect nothing, however small. Besides, I felt urged to help you in some way, be my help ever so modest. We have after all been good business friends so far, haven't we? Well then." K. wanted to apologize for his behavior during today's discussion, but the manufacturer allowed no interruption, pushed the briefcase high under his arm to show he was in haste, and continued: "I know of your proceedings through a certain Titorelli. He is a painter; Titorelli is only his artist's name, his real name I do not know at all. He has been coming to my office from time to time for years and brings small pictures, for which I—he is almost a beggar—always give him a kind of alms. They are by the way pretty pictures, heath landscapes and the like. These sales—we had both grown accustomed to them—went quite smoothly. Once, however, these visits repeated themselves too often; I reproached him, we fell into conversation, it interested me how he could support himself by painting alone, and I then learned to my astonishment that his main source of income was portrait painting. He works for the court, he said. For which court, I asked. And then he told me about the court. You can probably imagine best how astonished I was at these tales. Since then I hear some news or other of the court at each of his visits and so gradually get a great insight into the matter. To be sure, Titorelli is garrulous and I often have to fend him off, not only because he certainly also lies, but above all because a businessman like me, who is almost collapsing under his own business cares, cannot concern himself with so many foreign things. But that only by the way. Perhaps—so I thought now—Titorelli can be of some help to you; he knows many judges and even if he himself should have no great influence, he can yet give you advice on how to approach various influential people. And even if these advices should not in themselves be decisive, they will in my opinion be of great significance in your possession. You are almost an advocate. I always say: Junior partner K. is almost an advocate. Oh, I have no worries about your proceedings. Will you now go to Titorelli? On my recommendation he will certainly do everything possible for you. I really think you should go. It need not of course be today, sometime, when occasion offers. Though you are—this I still want to say—by no means obligated, through my giving you this advice, actually to go to Titorelli. No, if you believe you can dispense with Titorelli, it is certainly better to leave him entirely aside. Perhaps you already have a very precise plan and Titorelli could disturb it. No, then by no means go. It certainly also costs an effort to let oneself be advised by such a fellow. Well, as you please. Here is the letter of recommendation and here the address."

Disappointed, K. took the letter and put it in his pocket. Even in the most favorable case, the advantage the recommendation could bring him was relatively smaller than the harm in the fact that the manufacturer knew of his proceedings and that the painter would spread the news further. He could scarcely force himself to thank the manufacturer, who was already on the way to the door, with a few words. "I will go," he said, when he took leave of the manufacturer at the door, "or, since I am very busy now, write to him to come to my office." "I knew," said the manufacturer, "that you would find the best way. Though I thought you would prefer to avoid inviting people like this Titorelli into the bank, to speak with him here about the proceedings. It is also not always advantageous to let letters to such people out of one's hand. But you have certainly thought everything through and know what you may do." K. nodded and accompanied the manufacturer even through the anteroom. But despite outward calm he was very frightened at himself. That he would write to Titorelli he had really only said in order to show the manufacturer somehow that he valued the recommendation and was immediately considering the possibilities of meeting with Titorelli; but if he had regarded Titorelli's assistance as valuable, he would not have hesitated to actually write to him. The dangers this could entail he had only recognized through the manufacturer's remark. Could he really already rely so little on his own reason? If it was possible that he would invite a dubious person into the bank by a clear letter, to ask him, separated from the deputy director by only a door, for advice concerning his proceedings, was it then not possible and even very probable that he would also overlook other dangers or run into them? Not always did someone stand beside him to warn him. And precisely now, when he wanted to appear with gathered strength, had such doubts of his own vigilance, hitherto foreign to him, to arise! Should the difficulties he felt in executing his office work now also begin in the proceedings? Now indeed he no longer understood at all how it had been possible that he had wanted to write to Titorelli and invite him into the bank.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”