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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 strang-
ers,” 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 illu-
sion. “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 dress-
ing gown, giving them this information in an extremely
quiet voice. K.’s uncle, who had already been made very an-
gry 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 ill-
ness 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

11 The Trial