The Castle

were unable any longer to bear the tension, the yearlong irritation caused by the same affair⁠—probably trivial in itself⁠—and had hit upon the decision by itself, without the assistance of the officials. Of course a miracle didn’t happen and certainly it was some clerk who hit upon the solution or the unwritten decision, but in any case it couldn’t be discovered by us at least, by us here, or even by the Head Bureau, which clerk had decided in this case and on what grounds. The Control Officials only discovered that much later, but we will never learn it; besides by this time it would scarcely interest anybody. Now, as I said, it’s just these decisions that are generally excellent. The only annoying thing about them⁠—it’s usually the case with such things⁠—is that one learns too late about them and so in the meantime keeps on still passionately canvassing things that were decided long ago. I don’t know whether in your case a decision of this kind happened⁠—some people say yes, others no⁠—but if it had happened then the summons would have been sent to you and you would have made the long journey to this place, much time would have passed, and in the meanwhile Sordini would have been working away here all the time on the same case until he was exhausted, Brunswick would have been intriguing and I would have been plagued by both of them. I only indicate this possibility, but I know the following for a fact: a Control Official discovered meanwhile that a query had gone out from Department A to the Town Council many years before regarding a Land Surveyor, without having received a reply up till then. A new enquiry was sent to me, and now the whole business was really cleared up. Department A was satisfied with my answer that a Land Surveyor was not needed, and Sordini was forced to recognise that he had not been equal to this case and, innocently it is true, had got through so much nerve-racking work for nothing. If new work hadn’t come rushing in as ever from every side, and if your case hadn’t been a very unimportant case⁠—one might almost say the least important among the unimportant⁠—we might all of us have breathed freely again, I fancy even Sordini himself; Brunswick was the only one that grumbled, but that was only ridiculous. And now imagine to yourself, Land Surveyor, my dismay when after the fortunate end of the whole business⁠—and since then, too, a great deal of time had passed by⁠—suddenly you appear and it begins to look as if the whole thing must begin all over again. You’ll understand of course that I’m firmly resolved, so far as I’m concerned, not to let that happen in any case?”

“Certainly,” said K., “but I understand better still that a terrible abuse of my case, and probably of the law, is being carried on. As for me, I shall know how to protect myself against it.”

“How will you do it?” asked the Superintendent.

“I’m not at liberty to reveal that,” said K.

“I don’t want to press myself upon you,” said the Superintendent, “only I would like you to reflect that in me you have⁠—I won’t say a friend, for we’re complete strangers of course⁠—but to some extent a business friend. The only thing I will not agree to is that you should be taken on as Land Surveyor, but in other matters you can draw on me with confidence, frankly to the extent of my power, which isn’t great.”

“You always talk of the one thing,” said K., “that I shan’t be taken on as Land Surveyor, but I’m Land Surveyor already, here is Klamm’s letter.”

“Klamm’s letter,” said the Superintendent. “That’s valuable and worthy of respect on account of Klamm’s signature which seems to be genuine, but all the same⁠—yet I won’t dare to advance it on my own unsupported word. Mizzi,” he called, and then: “But what are you doing?”

Mizzi and the assistants, left so long unnoticed, had clearly not found the paper they were looking for, and had then tried to shut everything up again in the cabinet, but on account of the confusion and superabundance of papers had not succeeded. Then the assistants had hit upon the idea which they were carrying out now. They had laid the cabinet on its back on the floor, crammed all the documents in, then along with Mizzi had knelt on the cabinet door and were trying now in this way to get it shut.

“So the paper hasn’t been found,” said the Superintendent. “A pity, but you know the story already; really we don’t need the paper now, besides it will certainly be found sometime yet; probably it’s at the teacher’s place, there’s a great pile of papers there too. But come over here now with the candle, Mizzi, and read this letter for me.”

Mizzi went over and now looked still more grey and insignificant as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned against the strong vigorous man, who put his arm round her. In the candlelight only her pinched face was cast into relief, its simple and austere lines softened by nothing but age. Hardly had she glanced at the letter when she clasped her hands lightly and said, “From Klamm.” Then they read the letter together, whispered for a moment and at last, just as the assistants gave a “Hurrah!” for they had finally got the cabinet door shut⁠—which earned them a look of silent gratitude from Mizzi⁠—the Superintendent said:

“Mizzi is quite of my opinion and now I am at liberty to express it. This letter is in no sense an official letter, but only a private letter. That can be clearly seen in the very mode of address: ‘My dear Sir.’ Moreover, there isn’t a single word in it showing that you’ve been taken on as Land Surveyor; on the contrary it’s all about state service in