The Castle (19 page)

Frieda, who had been listening attentively, stroked his arm and said that that was her opinion too, but that perhaps he took the assistants' mischief too seriously. They were mere lads, full of spirits and a little silly now that they were for the first time in strange service, just released from the strict discipline of the Castle, and so a little dazed and excited. And being in that state they of course committed lots of follies at which it was natural to be annoyed, but which it would be more sensible to laugh at.

Often she simply couldn't keep from laughing. All the same she absolutely agreed with K.

that it would be much better to send the assistants away and be by themselves, just the two of them. She pressed closer to K. and hid her face on his shoulder. And there she whispered something so low that K. had to bend his head to hear. It was that all the same she knew of no way dealing with the assistants and she was afraid that all that if had suggested would be of no avail. So far as she knew it. K. himself who had asked for them, and now he had them, would have to keep them. It would be best to treat them as a joke, which they certainly were. That would be the best way to put up with them. K. was displeased by her answer: half in jest, half in earnest, he replied that she seemed actually to be in league with them, or at least to have a strong inclination in their favour. Well, they were good-looking lads, but there was nobody who couldn't be got rid of if only one had the will, and he would show her that that was so in the case of the assistants. Frieda said that she would be very grateful to him if he could manage it. And from now on she wouldn't laugh at them any more, or have any unnecessary talk with them.

Besides she didn't find anything now to laugh at, it was really no joke always to be spied on by two men, she had learned to look at the two of them with K.'s eyes. And she actually shrank a little when the assistants got up again, partly to have a look at the food that was left, partly to get to the bottom of the continued whispering. K. employed this incident to increase Frieda's disgust for the assistants, drew her towards him, and so side by side they finished their supper.

Now it was time to go to bed, for they were all very sleepy. One of the assistants had actually fallen asleep over his food. This amused the other one greatly, and he did his best to get the others to look at the vacant face of his companion, but he had no success. K. and Frieda sat on above without paying any attention. The cold was becoming so extreme that they shirked going to bed. At last K. declared that the room must be heated, otherwise it would be impossible to get to sleep. He looked round to see if he could find an axe or something. The assistants knew of one and fetched it, and now they proceeded to the wood shed. In a few minutes the flimsy door was smashed and torn open.

As if they had never yet experienced anything so glorious, the assistants began to carry the wood into the classroom, hounding each other on and knocking against each other. Soon there was a great pile, the stove was set going, everybody lay down round it, the assistants were given a blanket to roll themselves in - it was quite ample for them, for it was decided that one of them should always remain awake and keep the fire going - and soon it was so hot round the stove that the blankets were no longer needed, the lamps were put out, and K. and Frieda happily stretched themselves out to sleep in the warm silence.

K. was awakened during the night by some noise or other, and in his first vague sleepy state felt for Frieda. He found that, instead of Frieda, one of the assistants was lying beside him. Probably because of the exacerbation which being suddenly awakened is sufficient in itself to cause, this gave him the greatest fright that he had ever had since he first came to the village. With a cry he sat up, and not knowing what he was doing he gave the assistant such a buffet that he began to cry. However the whole thing was cleared up in a moment. Frieda had been awakened - at least so it had seemed to her -

by some huge animal, a cat probably, which had sprung on to her breast and then leapt away again. She had got up and was searching the whole room for the beast with a candle.

One of the assistants had seized the opportunity to enjoy the sack of straw for a little, an attempt which he was now bitterly repenting. Frieda could find nothing, however.

Perhaps it had only been a delusion, she went back to K. and on the way she stroked the crouching and whimpering assistant over the hair to comfort him, as if she had forgotten the evening's conversation. K. said nothing, but he asked the assistant to stop putting wood on the fire, for owing to almost all the heap having been squandered the room was already too hot.

Next morning nobody awoke until the school-children were there, standing with gaping eyes round the sleepers. This was unpleasant, for on account of the intense heat, which now towards morning had given way, however, to a coldness which could be felt, they had all taken off everything but their shirts, and just as they were beginning to put on their clothes, Gisa, the lady teacher, appeared at the door, a fair, tall, beautiful, but somewhat stiff young woman. She was evidently prepared for the new janitor, and seemed also to have been given her instructions by the teacher, for as soon as he appeared at the door, she began: "I can't put up with this. This is a fine state of affairs. You have permission to sleep in the classroom, but that's all. I am not obliged to teach in your bedroom. A janitor's family that loll in their beds far into the forenoon."

Well, something might be said about that, particularly as far as the family and the beds were concerned, thought K., while with Frieda's help - the assistants were of no use, lying on the floor they looked in amazement at the lady teacher and the children. He dragged across the parallel bars and the vaulting horse, threw the blanket over them, and so constructed a little room in which one could at least get on one's clothes protected from the children's gaze. He was not given a minute's peace, however, for the lady teacher began to scold because there was no fresh water in the washing basin-K. had just been thinking of fetching the basin for himself and Frieda to wash in, but he had at once given up the idea so as not to exasperate the lady teacher too much, but his renunciation was of no avail, for immediately afterwards there was a loud crash. Unfortunately, it seemed, they had forgotten to clear away the remains of the supper from the teacher's table, so she sent it all flying with her ruler and everything fell on the floor. She didn't need to bother about the sardine oil and the remainder of the coffee being spilt and the coffee-pot smashed to pieces, the janitor of course could soon clear that up.

Clothed once more, K. and Frieda, leaning on the parallel bars, witnessed the destruction of their few things. The assistants, who had obviously never thought of putting on their clothes, had stuck their heads through a fold of the blankets near the floor, to the great delight of the children. What grieved Frieda most was naturally the loss of the coffee-pot. Only when K. to comfort her assured her that he would go immediately to the village Superintendent and demand that it should be replaced, and see that this was done, was she able to gather herself together sufficiently to run out of their stockade in her chemise and skirt and rescue the table-cover at least from being stained any more. And she managed it, though the lady teacher to frighten her kept on hammering on the table with the ruler in the most nerve-racking fashion.

When K. and Frieda were quite clothed they had to compel the assistants - who seemed to be struck dumb by these events -to get their clothes on as well. Had not merely to order them and push them, indeed, but actually to put some of their clothes on for them. Then, when all was ready, K. shared out the remaining work. The assistants were to bring in wood and light the fire, but in the other classroom first, from which another and greater danger threatened, for the teacher himself was probably already there. Frieda was to scrub the floor and K. would fetch fresh water and set things to rights generally. For the time being breakfast could not be thought of. But so as to find out definitively the attitude of the lady teacher, K. decided to issue from their shelter himself first, the others were only to follow when he called them. He adopted this policy on the one hand because he did not want the position to be compromised in advance by any stupid act of the assistants, and on the other because he wanted Frieda to be spared as much as possible. For she had ambitions and he had none, she was sensitive and he was not, she only thought of the petty discomforts of the moment, while he was thinking of Barnabas and the future. Frieda followed all his instructions implicitly, and scarcely took her eyes from him. Hardly had he appeared when the lady teacher cried amid the laughter of the children, which from now on never stopped: "Slept well?" and as K. paid no attention

- seeing that after all it was not a real question but began to clear up the washstand, she asked: "What have you been doing to my cat?"

A huge, fat old cat was lying lazily outstretched on the table, and the teacher was examining one of its paws which was evidently a little hurt. So Frieda had been right after all, this cat had not of course leapt on her, for it was past the leaping stage, but it had crawled over her, had been terrified by the presence of people in the empty house, had concealed itself hastily, and in its unaccustomed hurry had hurt itself. K.

tried to explain this quietly to the lady teacher, but the only thing she had eyes for was the injury itself and she replied: "Well, then it's your fault through coming here.

Just look at thiss," and she called K. over to the table, showed him the paw, and before he could get a proper look at it, gave him a whack with the tawse over the back of his hand. The tails of the tawse were blunted, it was true, but, this time without any regard for the cat, she had brought them down so sharply that they raised bloody weals.

"And now go about your business," she said impatiently, bowing herself once more over the cat.

Frieda, who had been looking on with the assistants from behind the parallel bars, cried out when she saw the blood. K. held up his hand in front of the children and said:

"Look, that's what a sly, wicked cat has done to me."

He said it, indeed, not for the children's benefit, whose shouting and laughter had become continuous, so that it needed no further occasion or incitement, and could not be pierced or influenced by any words of his. But seeing that the lady teacher, too, only acknowledged the insult by a brief side-glance, and remained still occupied with the cat, her first fury satiated by the drawing of blood, K. called Frieda and the assistants, and then work began.

When K. had carried out the pail with the dirty water, fetched fresh water, and was beginning to turn out the classroom, a boy of about twelve stepped out from his desk, touched K.'s hand, and said something which was quite lost in the general uproar. Then suddenly every sound ceased and K. turned round. The thing he had been fearing all morning had come. In the door stood the teacher. In each hand the little man held an assistant by the scruff of the neck. He had caught them, it seemed, while they were fetching wood, for in a mighty voice he began to shout, pausing after every word: "Who has dared to break into the wood-shed? Where is the villain, so that I may annihilate him?"

Then Frieda got up from the floor, which she was trying to clean near the feet of the lady teacher, looked across at K. as if she were trying to gather strength from him, and said, a little of her old superciliousness in her glance and bearing: "I did it, Mr Teacher. I couldn't think of any other way. If the classrooms were to be heated in time, the wood-shed had to be opened. I didn't dare to ask you for the key in the middle of die night, my fiance was at the Herrenhof, it was possible that he might stay there all night, so I had to decide for myself. If I have done wrongly, forgive my inexperience.

I've been scolded enough by my fiance, after he saw what had happened. Yes, he even forbade me to light the fires early, because he thought that you had shown by locking the wood-shed that you didn't want them to be put on before you came yourself. So it's his fault that the fires are not on, but mine that the shed has been broken into."

"Who broke open the door?" asked the teacher, turning to the assistants, who were still vainly struggling to escape from his grip.

"The gentleman," they both replied, and, so that there might be no doubt, pointed at K.

Frieda laughed, and her laughter seemed to be still more conclusive than her words.

Then she began to wring out in the pail the rag with which she had been scrubbing the floor, as if the episode had been closed with her declaration, and the evidence of the assistants were merely a belated jest. Only when she was at work on her knees again did she add: "Our assistants are mere children who in spite of their age should still be at their desks in school. Last evening I really did break open the door myself with the axe, it was quite easy, I didn't need the assistants to help me, they would only have been a nuisance. But when my fiand arrived later in the night and went out to see the damage and if possible put it right, the assistants ran out after him, likely because they were afraid to stay here by themselves, and saw my fiance working at the broken door, and that's why they say now - but they're only children - ." True, the assistants kept on shaking their heads during Frieda's story, pointed again at K. and did their best by means of dumb show to deflect her from her story. But as they did not succeed they submitted at last, took Frieda's words as a command, and on being questioned anew by the teacher made no reply.

"So," said the teacher, "you've been lying? Or at least you've groundlessly accused the janitor?"

They still remained silent, but their trembling and their apprehensive glances seemed to indicate guilt.

"Then I'll give you a sound thrashing straight away," he said, and he sent one of the children into the next room for his cane.

Then as he was raising it, Frieda cried: "The assistants have told the truth!" flung her scrubbing-cloth in despair into the pail, so that the water splashed up on every side, and ran behind the parallel bars, where she remained concealed.