Page 247 - the-trial

it seemed as if the foliage had trapped a deep darkness be-
tween and behind its leaves and held it there prisoner, K. lay
his hand in one of these gaps and cautiously felt the stone,
until then he had been totally unaware of this pulpit’s ex-
istence. Then K. happened to notice one of the church staff
standing behind the next row of pews, he wore a loose,
creased, black cassock, he held a snuff box in his left hand
and he was watching K. Now what does he want? thought
K. Do I seem suspicious to him? Does he want a tip? But
when the man in the cassock saw that K. had noticed him
he raised his right hand, a pinch of snuff still held between
two fingers, and pointed in some vague direction. It was al-
most impossible to understand what this behaviour meant,
K. waited a while longer but the man in the cassock did not
stop gesturing with his hand and even augmented it by nod-
ding his head. “Now what does he want?” asked K. quietly,
he did not dare call out loud here; but then he drew out his
purse and pushed his way through the nearest pews to reach
the man. He, however, immediately gestured to turn down
this offer, shrugged his shoulders and limped away. As a
child K. had imitated riding on a horse with the same sort
of movement as this limp. “This old man is like a child,”
thought K., “he doesn’t have the sense for anything more
than serving in a church. Look at the way he stops when I
stop, and how he waits to see whether I’ll continue.” With a
smile, K. followed the old man all the way up the side nave
and almost as far as the main altar, all this time the old man
continued to point at something but K. deliberately avoid-
ed looking round, he was only pointing in order to make it

The Trial