VII

VII

Upstairs K. ran into the teacher. The room was improved almost beyond recognition, so well had Frieda set to work. It was well-aired, the stove amply stoked, the floor scrubbed, the bed put in order, the maids’ filthy pile of things and even their photographs cleared away; the table, which had literally struck one in the eye before with its crust of accumulated dust, was covered with a white embroidered cloth. One was in a position to receive visitors now. K.’s small change of underclothes hanging before the fire⁠—Frieda must have washed them early in the morning⁠—did not spoil the impression much. Frieda and the teacher were sitting at the table, they rose at K.’s entrance. Frieda greeted K. with a kiss, the teacher bowed slightly. Distracted and still agitated by his talk with the landlady, K. began to apologise for not having been able yet to visit the teacher; it was as if he were assuming that the teacher had called on him finally because he was impatient at K.’s absence. On the other hand, the teacher in his precise way only seemed now gradually to remember that sometime or other there had been some mention between K. and himself of a visit. “You must be, Land Surveyor,” he said slowly, “the stranger I had a few words with the other day in the church square.” “I am,” replied K. shortly; the behaviour which he had submitted to when he felt homeless he did not intend to put up with now here in his room. He turned to Frieda and consulted her about an important visit which he had to pay at once and for which he would need his best clothes. Without further enquiry Frieda called over the assistants, who were already busy examining the new tablecloth, and commanded them to brush K.’s suit and shoes⁠—which he had begun to take off⁠—down in the yard. She herself took a shirt from the line and ran down to the kitchen to iron it.

Now K. was left alone with the teacher, who was seated silently again at the table; K. kept him waiting for a little longer, drew off his shirt and began to wash himself at the tap. Only then, with his back to the teacher, did he ask him the reason for his visit. “I have come at the instance of the Parish Superintendent,” he said. K. made ready to listen. But as the noise of the water made it difficult to catch what K. said, the teacher had to come nearer and lean against the wall beside him. K. excused his washing and his hurry by the urgency of his coming appointment. The teacher swept aside his excuses, and said: “You were discourteous to the Parish Superintendent, an old and experienced man who should be treated with respect.” “Whether I was discourteous or not I can’t say,” said K. while he dried himself, “but that I had other things to think of than polite behaviour is true enough, for my existence is at stake, which is threatened by a scandalous official bureaucracy whose particular failings I needn’t mention to you, seeing that you’re an acting member of it yourself. Has the Parish Superintendent complained about me?” “Where’s the man that he would need to complain of?” asked the teacher. “And even if there was anyone, do you think he would ever do it? I’ve only made out at his dictation a short protocol on your interview, and that has shown me clearly enough how kind the Superintendent was and what your answers were like.”

While K. was looking for his comb, which Frieda must have cleared away somewhere, he said: “What? A protocol? Drawn up afterwards in my absence by someone who wasn’t at the interview at all? That’s not bad. And why on earth a protocol? Was it an official interview, then?” “No,” replied the teacher, “a semiofficial one, the protocol too was only semiofficial. It was merely drawn up because with us everything must be done in strict order. In any case it’s finished now, and it doesn’t better your credit.” K., who had at last found the comb, which had been tucked into the bed, said more calmly: “Well then, it’s finished. Have you come to tell me that?” “No,” said the teacher, “but I’m not a machine and I had to give you my opinion. My instructions are only another proof of the Superintendent’s kindness; I want to emphasise that his kindness in this instance is incomprehensible to me, and that I only carry out his instructions because it’s my duty and out of respect to the Superintendent.” Washed and combed, K. now sat down at the table to wait for his shirt and clothes; he was not very curious to know the message that the teacher had brought, he was influenced besides by the landlady’s low opinion of the Superintendent. “It must be after twelve already, surely?” he said, thinking of the distance he had to walk; then he remembered himself, and said: “You want to give me some message from the Superintendent.” “Well, yes,” said the teacher, shrugging his shoulders as if he were discarding all responsibility. “The Superintendent is afraid that, if the decision in your case takes too long, you might do something rash on your own account. For my own part I don’t know why he should fear that⁠—my own opinion is that you should just be allowed to do what you like. We aren’t your guardian angels and we’re not obliged to run after you in all your doings. Well and good. The Superintendent, however, is of a different opinion. He can’t of course hasten the decision itself, which is a matter for the authorities. But in his own sphere of jurisdiction he wants to provide a temporary and truly generous settlement; it simply lies with you to accept it. He offers you provisionally the post of school janitor.” At first K. thought very little of the offer made him, but the fact that an offer had been made seemed to him not without significance. It seemed to point to the fact that in the Superintendent’s opinion he was in a position to look after himself, to carry out projects against which the Town Council itself was preparing certain counter measures. And how seriously they were taking the matter! The teacher, who had already been waiting for a while, and who before that, moreover, had made out the protocol, must of course have been told to run here by the Superintendent. When the teacher saw that he had made K. reflect at last, he went on: “I put my objections. I pointed out that up till now a janitor hadn’t been found necessary; the churchwarden’s wife cleared up the place from time to time, and Fräulein Gisa, the second teacher, overlooked the matter. I had trouble enough with the children, I didn’t want to be bothered by a janitor as well. The Superintendent pointed out that all the same the school was very dirty. I replied, keeping to the truth, that it wasn’t so very bad. And, I went on, would it be any better if we took on this man as janitor? Most certainly not. Apart from the fact that he didn’t know the work, there were only two big classrooms in the school, and no additional room; so the janitor and his family would have to live, sleep, perhaps even cook, in one of the classrooms, which could hardly make for greater cleanliness. But the Superintendent laid stress on the fact that this post would keep you out of difficulties, and that consequently you would do your utmost to fill it creditably; he suggested further, that along with you we would obtain the services of your wife and your assistants, so that the school should be kept in first-rate order, and not only it, but the school-garden as well. I easily proved that this would not hold water. At last the Superintendent couldn’t bring forward a single argument in your favour; he laughed and merely said that you were a Land Surveyor after all and so should be able to lay out the vegetable beds beautifully. Well, against a joke there’s no argument, and so I came to you with the proposal.” “You’ve taken your trouble for nothing, teacher,” said K. “I have no intention of accepting the post.” “Splendid!” said the teacher. “Splendid! You decline quite unconditionally,” and he took his hat, bowed, and went.

Immediately afterwards Frieda came rushing up the stairs with an excited face, the shirt still unironed in her hand; she did not reply to K.’s enquiries. To distract her he told her about the teacher and the offer; she had hardly heard it when she flung the shirt on the bed and ran out again. She soon came back, but with the teacher, who looked annoyed and entered without any greeting. Frieda begged him to have a little patience⁠—obviously she had done that already several times on the way up⁠—then drew K. through a side door of which he had never suspected the existence, on to the neighbouring loft, and then at last, out of breath with excitement, told what had happened to her. Enraged that Frieda had humbled herself by making an avowal to K., and⁠—what was still worse⁠—had yielded to him merely to secure him an interview with Klamm, and after all had gained nothing but, so she alleged, cold and moreover insincere professions, the landlady was resolved to keep K. no longer in her house; if he had connections with the Castle, then he should take advantage of them at once, for he must leave the house that very day, that very minute, and she would only take him back again at the express order and command of the authorities; but she hoped it would not come to that, for she too had connections with the Castle and would know how to make use of them. Besides he was only in the inn because of the landlord’s negligence, and moreover he was not in a state of destitution, for this very morning he had boasted of a roof which was always free to him for the night. Frieda of course was to remain; if Frieda wanted to go with K. she, the landlady, would be very sorry; down in the kitchen she had sunk into a chair by the fire and cried at the mere thought of it. The poor, sick woman; but how could she behave otherwise, now that, in her imagination at any rate, it was a matter involving the honour of Klamm’s keepsakes? That was how matters stood with the landlady. Frieda of course would follow him, K., wherever he wanted to go. Yet the position of both of them was very bad in any case, just for that reason she had greeted the teacher’s offer with such joy; even if it was not a suitable post for K. yet it was⁠—that was expressly insisted on⁠—only a temporary post; one would gain a little time and would easily find other chances, even if the final decision should turn out to be unfavourable. “If it comes to the worst,” cried Frieda at last, falling on K.’s neck, “we’ll go away, what is there in the village to keep us? But for the time being, darling, we’ll accept the offer, won’t we? I’ve fetched the teacher back again, you’ve only to say to him ‘Done,’ that’s all, and we’ll move over to the school.”

“It’s a great nuisance,” said K. without quite meaning it, for he was not much concerned about his lodgings, and in his underclothes he was shivering up here in the loft, which without wall or window on two sides was swept by a cold draught, “you’ve arranged the room so comfortably and now we must leave it. I would take up the post very, very unwillingly, the few snubs I’ve already had from the teacher have been painful enough, and now he’s to become my superior, no less. If we could only stay here a little while longer, perhaps my position might change for the better this very afternoon. If you would only remain here at least, we could wait on for a little and give the teacher a noncommittal answer. As for me, if it came to the worst, I could really always find a lodging for the night with Bar⁠—” Frieda stopped him by putting her hand over his mouth. “No, not that,” she said beseechingly, “please never mention that again. In everything else I’ll obey you. If you like I’ll stay on here by myself, sad as it will be for me. If you like, we’ll refuse the offer, wrong as that would seem to me. For look here, if you find another possibility, even this afternoon, why, it’s obvious that we would throw up the post in the school at once; nobody would object. And as for your humiliation in front of the teacher, let me see to it that there will be none; I’ll speak to him myself, you’ll only have to be there and needn’t say anything, and later too it will be just the same, you’ll never be made to speak to him if you don’t want to, I⁠—I alone⁠—will be his subordinate in reality, and I won’t be even that, for I know his weak points. So you see nothing will be lost if we take on the post, and a great deal if we refuse it; above all, if you don’t wring something out of the Castle this very day, you’ll never manage to find, even for yourself, anywhere at all in the village to spend the night in, anywhere, that is, which I needn’t be ashamed of as your future wife. And if you don’t manage to find a roof for the night, do you really expect me to sleep here in my warm room, while I know that you are wandering about out there in the dark and cold?” K., who had been trying to warm himself all this time by clapping his chest with his arms like a carter, said: “Then there’s nothing left but to accept; come along!”

When they returned to the room he went straight over to the fire; he paid no attention to the teacher; the latter, sitting at the table, drew out his watch and said: “It’s getting late.” “I know, but we’re completely agreed at last,” said Frieda, “we accept the post.” “Good,” said the teacher, “but the post is offered to the Land Surveyor; he must say the word himself.” Frieda came to K.’s help. “Really,” she said, “he accepts the post. Don’t you, K.?” So K. could confine his declaration to a simple “Yes,” which was not even directed to the teacher but to Frieda. “Then,” said the teacher, “the only thing that remains for me is to acquaint you with your duties, so that in that respect we can understand each other once and for all. You have, Land Surveyor, to clean and heat both classrooms daily, to make any small repairs in the house, further to look after the class and gymnastic apparatus personally, to keep the garden path free of snow, run messages for me and the lady teacher, and look after all the work in the garden in the warmer seasons of the year. In return for that you have the right to live in whichever one of the classrooms you like; but, when both rooms are not being used at the same time for teaching, and you are in the room that is needed, you must of course move to the other room. You mustn’t do any cooking in the school; in return you and your dependents will be given your meals here in the inn at the cost of the Town Council. That you must behave in a manner consonant with the dignity of the school, and in particular that the children during school hours must never be allowed to witness any unedifying matrimonial scenes, I mention only in passing, for as an educated man you must of course know that. In connection with that I want to say further that we must insist on your relations with Fräulein Frieda being legitimised at the earliest possible moment. About all this and a few other trifling matters, an agreement will be made out, which as soon as you move over to the school must be signed by you.” To K. all this seemed of no importance, as if it did not concern him, or at any rate did not bind him; but the self-importance of the teacher irritated him, and he said carelessly: “I know, they’re the usual duties.” To wipe away the impression created by this remark Frieda enquired about the salary. “Whether there will be any salary,” said the teacher, “will only be considered after a month’s trial service.” “But that is hard on us,” said Frieda. “We’ll have to marry on practically nothing, and have nothing to set up house on. Couldn’t you make a representation to the Town Council, sir, to give us a small salary at the start? Couldn’t you advise that?” “No,” replied the teacher, who continued to direct his words to K. “Representations to the Town Council will only be made if I give the word, and I shan’t give it. The post has only been given to you as a personal favour, and one can’t stretch a favour too far, if one has any consciousness of one’s obvious responsibilities.” Now K. intervened at last, almost against his will. “As for the favour, teacher,” he said, “it seems to me that you’re mistaken. The favour is perhaps rather on my side.” “No,” replied the teacher, smiling now that he had compelled K. to speak at last. “I’m completely grounded on that point. Our need for a janitor is just about as urgent as our need for a Land Surveyor. Janitor, Land Surveyor, in both cases it’s a burden on our shoulders. I’ll still have a lot of trouble thinking out how I’m to justify the post to the Town Council. The best thing and the most honest thing would be to throw the proposal on the table and not justify anything.” “That’s just what I meant,” replied K., “you must take me on against your will. Although it causes you grave perturbation, you must take me on. But when one is compelled to take someone else on, and this someone else allows himself to be taken on, then he is the one who grants the favour.” “Strange!” said the teacher. “What is it that compels us to take you on? The only thing that compels us is the Superintendent’s kind heart, his too kind heart. I see, Land Surveyor, that you’ll have to rid yourself of a great many illusions before you can become a serviceable janitor. And remarks such as these hardly produce the right atmosphere for the granting of an eventual salary. I notice too with regret that your attitude will give me a great deal of trouble yet; all this time⁠—I’ve seen it with my own eyes and yet can scarcely believe it⁠—you’ve been talking to me in your shirt and drawers.” “Quite so,” exclaimed K. with a laugh, and he clapped his hands. “These terrible assistants, where have they been all this time?” Frieda hurried to the door; the teacher, who noticed that K. was not longer to be drawn into conversation, asked her when she would move into the school. “Today,” said Frieda. “Then tomorrow I’ll come to inspect matters,” said the teacher, waved a goodbye and made to go out through the door, which Frieda had opened for herself, but ran into the maids, who already were arriving with their things to take possession of the room again; and he, who made way for nobody, had to slip between them: Frieda followed him. “You’re surely in a hurry,” said K., who this time was very pleased with the maids, “had you to push your way in while we’re still here?” They did not answer, only twisted their bundles in embarrassment, from which K. saw the well-known filthy rags projecting. “So you’ve never washed your things yet,” said K. It was not said maliciously, but actually with a certain indulgence. They noticed it, opened their hard mouths in concert, showed their beautiful animal-like teeth and laughed noiselessly. “Come along,” said K., “put your things down, it’s your room after all.” As they still hesitated, however⁠—the room must have seemed to them all too well transformed⁠—K. took one of them by the arm to lead her forward. But he let her go at once, so astonished was the gaze of both, which, after a brief glance between them, was now turned unflinchingly on K. “But now you’ve stared at me long enough,” he said, repelling a vague, unpleasant sensation, and he took up his clothes and boots, which Frieda, timidly followed by the assistants, had just brought, and drew them on. The patience which Frieda had with the assistants, always incomprehensible to him, now struck him again. After a long search she had found them below peacefully eating their lunch, the untouched clothes which they should have been brushing in the yard crumpled in their laps; then she had had to brush everything herself, and yet she, who knew how to keep the common people in their places, had not even scolded them, and instead spoke in their presence of their grave negligence as if it were a trifling peccadillo, and even slapped one of them lightly, almost caressingly, on the cheek. Presently K. would have to talk to her about this. But now it was high time to be gone. “The assistants will stay here to help you with the removing,” he said. They were not in the least pleased with this arrangement; happy and full, they would have been glad of a little exercise. Only when Frieda said, “Certainly, you stay here,” did they yield. “Do you know where I’m going?” asked K. “Yes,” replied Frieda. “And you don’t want to hold me back any longer?” asked K. “You’ll find obstacles enough,” she replied, “what does anything I say matter in comparison!” She kissed K. goodbye, and as he had had nothing at lunchtime, gave him a little packet of bread and sausage which she had brought for him from downstairs, reminded him that he must not return here again but to the school, and accompanied him, with her hand on his shoulder, to the door.