The Trial by Franz Kafka

student was here before me, he hadn’t so far to come, of course, he had only to cut down

that short wooden staircase from the attics. If my job were not at stake, I would have

squashed that student flat against the wall here long ago. Just beside this card. It’s a daily

dream of mine. I see him squashed flat here, just a little above the floor, his arms wide, his

fingers spread, his bandy legs writhing in a circle, and splashes of blood all round. But so

far it’s only been a dream.” “Is there no other remedy?” asked K., smiling. “Not that I know

of,” said the usher. “And now it’s getting worse than ever, up till now he has been carrying

her off for his own pleasure, but now, as I’ve been expecting for a long time, I may say,

he’s carrying her to the Examining Magistrate as well.” “But isn’t your wife to blame too ?”

asked K.; he had to keep a grip of himself while asking this, he still felt so jealous. “But of

course,” said the usher, “she’s actually most to blame of all. She simply flung herself at

him. As for him, he runs after every woman he sees. In this building alone he’s already

been thrown out of five flats he managed to insinuate himself into. And my wife is the bestlooking

woman in the whole tenement, and I’m in a position where I can’t defend myself.”

“If that’s how things stand, then there’s no help, it seems,” said K. “And why not?” asked

the usher. “If he only got a good thrashing some time when he was after my wife — he’s a

coward, anyway — he would never dare to do it again. But I can’t thrash him, and nobody else will oblige me by doing it, for they’re all afraid of him, he’s too influential. Only a man

like you could do it.” “But why a man like me?” asked K., in astonishment. “You’re under

arrest, aren’t you?” said the usher. “Yes,” said K., “and that means I have all the more

reason to fear him, for though he may not be able to influence the outcome of the case, he

can probably influence the preliminary interrogations.” “Yes, that’s so,” said the usher, as if

K.’s view of the matter were as self-evident as his own. “Yet as a rule all our cases are

foregone conclusions.” “I am not of that opinion,” said K., “but that needn’t prevent me

from taking the student in hand.” “I should be very grateful to you,” said the usher rather

formally; he did not appear really to believe that his heart’s desire could be fulfilled. “It

may be,” K. went on, “that some more of your officials, probably all of them, deserve the

same treatment.” “Oh, yes,” said the usher, as if he were assenting to a commonplace. Then

he gave K. a confidential look, such as he had not yet ventured in spite of all his

friendliness, and added: “Everyone is always rebellious.” But the conversation seemed to

have made him uneasy, all the same, for he broke it off by saying: “I must report upstairs

now. Would you like to come too?” “I have no business there,” said K. “You can have a

look at the offices. Nobody will pay any attention to you.” “Why, are they worth seeing?”

asked K. hesitatingly, but suddenly feeling a great desire to go. “Well,” said the usher, “I

thought it might interest you.” “Good,” said K. at last, “I’ll come with you.” And he ran up

the stairs even more quickly than the usher.

On entering he almost stumbled, for behind the door there was an extra step. “They

don’t show much consideration for the public,” he said. “They show no consideration of

any kind,” replied the usher. “Just look at this waiting-room.” It was a long passage, a

lobby communicating by ill-fitting doors with the different offices on the floor. Although

there was no window to admit light, it was not entirely dark, for some of the offices were

not properly boarded off from the passage but had an open frontage of wooden rails,

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