Chapter 8 Seven lawyers - factory owners - painters (2)

He followed the address and drove straight to where the painter lived, which was a suburb just opposite to the one where the court office was located.The area is poorer, the houses are older, and the streets are filled with sludge mixed with melted snow and flowing slowly.The apartment where the painter lived had two double doors, one of which was open, and the other door had a long strip of brick below it, which was pressed against the ground, and there was a gap in the brick; K went up I went there and found a steaming, disgusting yellow liquid coming out of the gap, and several mice ran out with the liquid, and immediately burrowed into the nearby ditch.At the foot of the steps lay a child, crying and crying; but it was difficult to hear him, for there was a deafening noise from a tin shop on the other side of the gate.The door of the tin shop was open, and three apprentices were standing in a semicircle around a thing; they had raised their hammers, and were hammering at it.On the wall hung a large sheet of tin, from which a pale gleam reflected the space between the two apprentices, illuminating their faces and their aprons. K. only glanced at these briefly, he wanted to find the painter as soon as possible, ask him a few probing questions, and then go back to the bank right away.If his visit was successful, it would be good for his work at the bank for the rest of the day.He walked into the apartment; on the fourth floor, he was out of breath and had to slow down.The steps and floors are disproportionately high, and the painter is said to have lived in a loft on the top floor.The air was suffocating; the stairs were narrow, without vents, between bare walls, and only at long intervals by a small high window. While K stopped to catch his breath, several little girls ran out of a flat, laughing, and ran upstairs ahead of K. K followed slowly behind them, walking with one of the little girls.The girl must have stumbled and fell behind. K. went up the stairs with her, and he asked her: "Is there a painter named Titorelli living here?" Looking at him knowingly.Despite her young age and her deformed body, she had become lewd prematurely.She did not smile, but fixed her shrewd, bold eyes on K. K pretended not to pay attention to her expression, just asked: "Do you know the painter Titorelli?" She nodded, and then asked: "What do you want him for?" Regarding the Titorelli situation; there is still time anyway. "I want him to paint me," he said, "a portrait of you?" she repeated, opening her mouth wide; Or it's silly.Then she lifted her skirt with both hands and ran a few steps, catching up with the other girls.They disappeared in the distance amid the uproar.At the next bend in the stairs, however, K. was among them again.The hunchbacked girl had evidently told the other girls what K. was here for, and they were waiting for him here.They stood one after the other on either side of the stairs, clinging to the wall, leaving a path for K. to pass; at the same time they smoothed their skirts with their hands.There was a mixture of innocence and sophistication on their faces, no wonder they could come up with the idea of ​​letting K pass through the wall of people.The girls were now following K., bursting into laughter; the hunchbacked girl led K. in the lead.Thanks to her, K found the right door in no time.He was going to go up the stairs, but she pointed to a small staircase next to it and said that was the one that led to Titorelli's room.The staircase was narrow and straight, and its length could be seen at a glance; at the end of the staircase was the door of Titorelli's room.The whole staircase was dimly lit, but this door was brighter by comparison.There is a fan-shaped lintel above the door, and light comes in from there, illuminating the door very brightly.The door was unpainted, and Titorelli's name was scrawled across it, with a brush dipped in red paint. K. and the girls following him had just reached the middle of the stairs, and their footsteps had evidently annoyed someone above them.The door opened a crack, and a man who seemed to be wearing only pajamas appeared at the door. "Ah!" He saw a group of people coming, shouted, and quickly disappeared.The hunchbacked girl clapped her hands happily, while the other girls surrounded K., urging him to hurry up.

While they were still going on to the top of the stairs, the painter opened the door; he bowed deeply and invited K. in.As for the girls, no matter how much they begged, and no matter how much they insisted on entering the house when they were not allowed, he drove them all out, not one of them.Only the hunchbacked girl slipped under his outstretched arms; he ran after her, grabbed her by the skirt, lifted her over her head, turned her around, and put her in the doorway where she was back to the other side. He went among the girls; although he left the door afterwards, the girls still dared not cross the threshold. K. didn't know what was going on, because they seemed to be on good terms.The girls outside the door stretched their necks one by one, shouted loudly, and joked with the painter; K. could not understand what they were saying.The painter was laughing too, and he almost threw the hunchbacked girl out of the air.Then he closed the door, bowed again to K., held out his hand, and introduced himself: "I'm Titorelli the painter." The girls were chattering outside, and K. pointed to the door and said: "You look very nice here." Welcome." "Oh, these brats!" said the painter, who tried to button his pajamas up to his neck, but failed.He was barefoot, and in addition to his pajamas he wore a pair of yellow linen trousers with a long belt that dangled back and forth at the waist. "The boys are a nuisance," he went on.The painter stopped wasting time on his pajamas because the top button just fell off.He took a chair and asked K. to sit down. "I made a portrait of one of them once—the girl you haven't seen today—and they've been torturing me ever since. They can only do it when I'm in the house with my consent." Come in; but when I go out, at least one of them is sure to sneak in. They have a key that will open my door, and they lend each other. You can hardly imagine what a nuisance it is. Like , I brought a young lady to my house for a portrait; I took out the key, opened the door, and suddenly found a hunchbacked girl sitting by the desk, painting her lips red with my paintbrush, while the little ones under her care My sister is running about in the house, making a mess in every corner of the house. Last night, this happened: I came home very late-it is for this reason that I am now disheveled and my house is full. It's a mess here too, please forgive me--go on, when I got home, it was late, and as I was about to go to bed, something grabbed my leg; I looked under the bed and pulled out a nasty My little girl. Why do they do that? I don't know. You've probably figured it out yourself. I don't encourage them to do it. Besides, it certainly prevents me from painting. If it wasn't for the fact that I don't have to pay rent for the studio I live in. , I’ve left here long ago.” Just at this moment, a small voice came from outside the door, and a girl said in a half anxious, half coquettish tone: “Titorelli, can we come in now? "No," replied the painter. "Can't I come in, too?" the voice asked again. "You can't either," said the painter, and he went to the door and locked it.

At the same time, K. looked around the room. He would never believe that anyone could call this dingy little shack a studio.You also cannot take two steps in either direction.The entire room, including the floor, walls and ceiling, is a large box made of unpainted wooden planks with obvious cracks between them. Against the wall opposite K. stood a bed piled with blankets of various colours.In the middle of the room was an easel with a canvas covered by a shirt with its sleeves hanging down on the floor. Behind K was the window, through which there was a thick fog, and he could only see the snow-covered roofs of the next door, and nothing beyond.

The sound of the key turning in the lock reminded K. that he had not intended to stay here long.So he took out the factory owner's letter from his pocket, handed it to the painter, and said: "I heard about you from this gentleman. He is your acquaintance. He suggested me to come here." The painter read the letter in a hurry , throw it on the bed.If the manufacturer had not stated in advance that his acquaintance, Titorelli, was a pauper living off his charity, it might now be thought that Titorelli did not know the manufacturer at all, or at least had forgotten him.Then the painter actually asked: "Are you here to buy a painting or a portrait?" K looked at him in surprise.What is written in the letter? K. took it for granted that the factory owner must have told Titorelli that K. had come here for no other purpose than to inquire about the case.It seemed too rash and rash for him to hasten to the painter.Of course he should have given a more or less relevant answer, so he glanced at the easel and said, "Are you drawing?" "Yes," said Titorelli, tearing the shirt from the easel and throwing it away. Go to bed and throw it beside the letter. "It's a portrait. It's pretty good, but it's not finished yet." K. seemed to be lucky enough to have the opportunity to bring the matter to court right away, because the painting was clearly depicting a judge.It bears an uncanny resemblance to the painting hanging in the lawyer's office.Of course, the judge in this picture was another man entirely, a stocky man with a bushy black beard; and, again, that was an oil painting, this one lightly sketched in pastels.In other respects, however, it is similar, for the judge in this painting also looks menacing, sitting on a high chair with his hands clasped on the armrests, as if about to stand up. "This is probably a judge," K. was about to say, but suddenly stopped, and walked up to the painting, as if wanting to study it carefully.He didn't know who the tall figure behind the high chair who occupied the center of the painting was, so he asked the painter who it was. "There are a few details left," replied the painter.He took a piece of chalk from the table and added a few more strokes to the outline of the man; but K. still did not recognize him. "This is Justice," said the painter at last. "I recognize it now," said K., "she has a cloth over her eyes, that's a scale. But don't she have wings on her heels? Isn't she flying?" "Yes," said the painter. "I was instructed to draw it like this; in fact it is a combination of Justice and Victory." "This combination is definitely not very good," K. said with a smile, "Justice should stand on her feet, otherwise The balance is about to shake, and the judgment cannot be just." "I have to do what my client orders," said the painter. "Of course," said K., not wanting to offend anyone by commenting, "you drew the figure as if standing over a high chair." "No," said the painter, "I neither saw anyone nor I didn't see the high chair, it was all imaginary. I was told how to draw it, and I did it." "What do you mean?" K. pretended not to understand, "then, sit on the French chair. This man must be a judge?" "Yes," said the painter, "but he is not a high judge, and he has never sat in such a chair in his life." "And yet he is painted in such a majestic manner, Isn't it? Why is that? He sits here like a president of the court." "It is true that these gentlemen are very vain," said the painter, "but their superiors allowed them to be painted in this way. They Everyone has been given exact instructions as to how their portrait should be drawn. It is a pity that you cannot comment on the details of the costumes and seats, and pastel is not the proper way to do it." "Yes, "It's strange," said K. "How did you start using chalk?" "Because my customer wants to use chalk," said the painter, "and he wants to give this painting to a lady." He looked at the painting , It seems to have inspired the enthusiasm for painting, so I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, picked up a few chalks and started to draw. K watched as the lightly drawn lines of chalk gradually formed a reddish ring around the judge's head, and the ring became thinner and thinner until it reached the edge of the picture to become bundles of slender rays of light.This red circle is like a halo, and it also looks like a halo indicating the judge's prominent status.However, the outline of the goddess of justice is still not obvious, and there is only an almost imperceptible shadow around; because of the shallow outline, the goddess of justice seems to have jumped to the front of the picture, and she no longer looks like the goddess of justice, nor even the goddess of victory, It looks like a hunting goddess chasing her prey.The painter's actions made K unconsciously fascinated.Later, he began to blame himself for staying for so long, but he didn't even touch the serious business. "What's the name of this judge?" he asked suddenly. "I cannot tell you," replied the painter, leaning towards the portrait, deliberately ignoring the guest whom he had so respected just now. K thought it was the painter's eccentricity; he was annoyed that his time was wasted like this. "I suppose you are in the confidence of the court?" he asked.The painter immediately put down the chalk, straightened up, rubbed his hands, and looked at K with a smile. "Tell me the truth!" he said. "You want to know something about the court, that's what it says in your letter of introduction. I can say that you started talking to me about my paintings just to win my favor. I don't I don't think it's a bad thing, but, you probably don't know it, it's not a good way to deal with me. Hey, don't make excuses, please!" K. tried to find some excuse, but he stopped him.He went on: "Besides, you are quite right, I have great confidence in the court." He paused for a moment, as if to give K. some time to reflect on what he had said.Now they could hear the girls' voices outside the door again.They seemed to be gathering near the keyhole, perhaps they could see through the crack of the door what was going on in the house. K. gave up all attempts to justify himself, because he didn't want to divert the conversation, and he didn't want to make the painter think that he was so great that he couldn't get close to him.So he asked: "Is your position formally appointed?" "No," replied the painter curtly, as if the question interrupted his train of thought. Eager to let him go on, K said: "Oh, such unrecognized positions are often more influential than formal ones." The owner of the factory told me about your case yesterday, and he asked me if I could help you, and I said to him, 'Let that man come to me sometime.' I'm glad to see you so quickly Here you go. It seems that you are very interested in the case, which is of course not surprising. Would you like to take off your coat for a while?" Although K. did not want to stay here for long, this suggestion was also welcomed by him, because he Already he was beginning to feel the stuffy air in the room; several times he was surprised to see a small iron stove in a corner, which, though it seemed to be unlit, made the room unbearably hot.He took off his coat and unbuttoned his jacket.The painter said apologetically: "I need warmth. It's warm here, isn't it? I feel very comfortable here." Hearing this, K. was silent; it wasn't the heat that made him uncomfortable, but the silence. A congested, suffocating atmosphere; the room must have had no fresh air for a long time.He felt even worse when the painter asked him to sit on the bed; the painter sat in a chair by the easel, the only one in the room.Titorelli also didn't seem to understand why K. was just sitting on the edge of the bed. He asked K. to sit more comfortably and pushed the reluctant K. between the blankets, sheets and pillows.Then he sat back in his chair and asked K. his first serious question, which made K forget everything else. "Are you innocent?" he asked. "Yes," said K.He answered the question with great pleasure, especially since he was talking to the painter alone, without worrying about the consequences.No one else had asked him so frankly.To cheer himself up, he added: "I am perfectly innocent." "I see," said the painter, bowing his head as if in thought.Suddenly he raised his head and said: "If you're innocent, it's easy." K.'s eyes dimmed: the man who claimed to be in the court's confidence spoke like an ignorant child. "My innocence does not make things easier," said K.; he could not help smiling, and then shook his head slowly. "There were innumerable intrigues in the courts, and I had to fight them." They'll invent a whole bunch of crimes for you later on out of nothing." "Yes, yes, of course," said the painter, as if K. didn't need to interrupt his train of thought at all, "but you're innocent anyway. Isn't it?" "Of course, there's no need to ask," said K. "That's the main thing," said the painter.He was not convinced by K. Although he said it firmly, K still did not understand whether he said it out of genuine belief or just perfunctory. In order to make this clear, K. said: "You know the courts much better than I do, that's for sure; I've only heard a little about the courts from here and there, and I know very little else. They all agree that prosecutions are not made lightly, and that it is extremely difficult to get the courts to change their belief that once a court indicts a person, it finds the accused guilty." "Extremely difficult?" said the painter, his Waving a hand in the air, "The court will never change this belief. If I paint all the judges on a canvas, and you stand in front of this canvas to appeal this case, the hope of success will be higher than in real life." It's bigger in the courthouse." "I know," said K. to himself, forgetting that he only wanted the painter to tell the story.

Another girl's voice came from outside the door: "Titorelli, is he leaving soon?" "Don't make trouble, be good!" the painter turned his head and shouted, "don't you know that I'm talking to this gentleman? ?” But the girl didn’t give up, and asked again: “Do you want to paint him?” The painter didn’t answer, so she continued: “Please don’t paint him, he’s too ugly.” The other girls chirped for a while, expressing agree.The painter jumped to the door, opened a crack—K saw the girls' outstretched hands clasped in pleading pleading—and said to them: "If you don't keep your mouth shut, I'll kill you all." Push it downstairs. Sit obediently on the stairs. Be quiet." They don't seem to obey immediately, for the painter roars again: "Sit down, sit on the stairs!" Then there is silence.

"Excuse me," said the painter, returning to K. K. did not bother to look at the door, he let the artist decide for himself whether it was necessary and in what way to protect him.Even then the painter leaned over him and whispered something in his ear, and even then K. hardly moved.The painter lowered his voice so that the girls outside could not hear: "These girls belong to the court too." "What?" K. shouted, turning his head and looking at the painter.But Titorelli sat down again in his chair and said half-jokingly, half-explainingly: "Everything belongs to the courts, you know." "I didn't know that before," said K. curtly; This overarching statement takes away from the disturbing statement just made that "girls belong to the court".K., however, continued to sit and stare at the door for some time afterwards.The girls outside the door were now sitting comfortably on the stairs; a girl slipped a straw through the crack of the door and moved it slowly up and down.

"It seems that you do not know the whole picture of the courthouse," said the painter; he stretched his legs forward, and tapped the floor with his heels. "However, since you are innocent, there is no need to know the whole court. I alone can set you free." "How can you do that?" asked K. "because you treated me a few minutes ago. As I said, the courts don't take testimony at all." "The court just ignores testimony presented in person," said the painter, raising his finger in surprise at K.'s inability to understand the subtle distinction. "But it's quite a different story if you're working behind the scenes; behind the scenes you mean in the deliberation room and the lounge, or, to give a specific example, in this studio." K. fully believes what the painter is saying now. , because it was basically consistent with what he had heard from others.There is indeed hope for doing so at the senior judge level.If, as the lawyer says, judges are easily influenced by personal relationships, the relationship between the painter and these vain officials appears to be of special importance, which cannot under any circumstances be underestimated. K has found a group of people around him who can help him, and the relationship between painter and judge will make him the most prominent one. K's organizational skills had once been the pride of the bank; now, he was entirely in charge of finding these people, and this gave him the opportunity to fully prove his organizational skills.Titorelli observed the effect of his words on K., and then said with a little anxiety: "You may wonder why I talk like a jurist? I always cooperate with gentlemen in court, So it became like this. I got a lot out of it, of course; but I also lost a lot of enthusiasm as an artist." "How did you get on with the judges?" asked K. ;He wants to gain the trust of the painter first, and then put the painter on the list of people who can help him. "It's very simple," said the painter. "I have inherited the relationship. My father was a former painter at the court. It is a hereditary position and no new ones can be hired. Painting officials of various ranks requires mastering many intricacies. , comprehensive, non-disclosure rules, these rules can only be known to a few families. For example, in that drawer over there are all the paintings that my father drew, and I have never shown them to anyone. Only those who have studied these paintings Only people who have the ability to draw portraits for the judges. However, even if I lose these paintings, I have enough rules in my mind to ensure that my seat will not be taken by newcomers. Because each The judges insisted on drawing themselves exactly like the previous justices, and no one could do that except me." "Your position is really enviable," said K.; he thought of his own job at the bank. Position, "So, your position cannot be taken away by others?" "Yes, others can't take it away," the painter replied triumphantly, twisting his shoulders, "It is precisely for this reason that I am Dare to often help some poor people in lawsuits." "How do you help?" K asked, as if he did not belong to the category of those poor people mentioned by the painter.But Titorelli did not allow K. to divert his thoughts, but went on: "In your case, for example, you are completely innocent, and I will hold on to that." Seeing K's innocence, K already felt impatient.Sometimes K felt that the painter was willing to help on the assumption that the trial would be positive; but then his help would be useless.However, although K. had such doubts in his mind, he did not say them out of his mouth, but let the painter go on and on.He was not prepared to refuse Titorelli's help, he had already made up his mind on that point; there could be no doubt that the painter was on his side as much as the lawyer.In fact, he was more willing to accept the painter's help, because the painter's proposal was more sincere and frank.

Titorelli pulled the chair to the side of the bed, lowered his voice, and continued: "I forgot to ask first, which form of acquittal do you want to get. There are three possibilities, namely a complete acquittal, a deceitful adjudication Not guilty and indefinite stay of trial. Of course, a complete acquittal is the best way to go, but I have no influence over that verdict. As far as I know, no one can push them to a complete acquittal. The only determining factor seems to be the defendant's innocence. Since you are innocent, you can certainly use your innocence as a basis for defending yourself in this case. However, in that case, you don't need me and any other People helped."

This sober analysis surprised K at first, but he replied to the painter in the same soft voice: "I think you are contradicting yourself." "Why are you contradicting yourself?" the painter asked patiently. Smiling and leaning back.The painter's smile made K suspect that what he was about to present might not be the contradiction in the painter's speech, but the contradiction in the court procedure itself.But he was not discouraged, and continued: "You said just now that the court ignores the testimony, and then you said that statement only applies to the public trial in the court; and now you think that in the court, an innocent People do not need help from others at all. This in itself contains a contradiction. Moreover, you start out saying that personal mediation can change the judge's view, and now you deny that personal mediation can obtain what you call outright adjudication. The result of sin—and here comes the second contradiction." "These contradictions are easy to explain," said the painter, "and we should distinguish two things: one is expressly prescribed by the law, the other is what I have discovered by my own experience; you Don't confuse the two. In the statutes - I admit I haven't read it - it must say that the innocent should be acquitted, it doesn't say that judges can be influenced. My experience has been quite the opposite. I I haven't seen a single case where the verdict was outright acquitted, but I've seen many instances where influential people interfered with the verdict. Of course, it's also possible that none of the defendants were truly innocent in any of the cases I'm aware of However, is this really possible? In so many cases, not a single defendant is innocent? When I was a child, I listened to my father's stories about the cases he had heard; the judges who came to his studio always asked Talking about the courthouse: that was practically the only topic of conversation in our circle. I took full advantage of it when I started portraits of judges myself, and learned about countless cases at their most critical stages; Follow these cases as they go. But—I must admit—I've never heard of a single acquittal." "Then there's never been a single case that resulted in an acquittal," K. said that he seemed to be speaking to himself and his hopes, "and this confirmed what I had already formed about this court: from any point of view, the court is a meaningless institution whose entire work can be done by an executioner." Competent." "You can't generalize the situation," said the painter displeased, "I'm just telling my own experience." "That's enough," said K. "You've heard of acquittals before. "It is said," replied the painter, "that such acquittals have occurred. However, it is very difficult to prove this. The final decision of the court is never recorded, and even the judge does not know the details. Therefore , when referring to past cases, we can only rely on hearsay. These rumors must provide cases of acquittals, and in fact the majority of cases in the rumors have resulted in acquittals; these rumors can be believed, but not verified. In any case, these rumors cannot be completely disregarded, there are always some parts of them true; Opinion," said K. "I don't think one can resort to such rumors before the courts?" The painter laughed. "No, you can't do that," he said. "Then it's useless to talk about these rumors," said K.; he wanted to accept the painter's views, even if they seemed absurd or contradicted what K. had heard before.He didn't have time to investigate whether the painter's words were all true, let alone refute them; he only hoped that the painter could help him in some way, even if he couldn't get any results, it didn't matter.So he said, "Then let's not talk about outright acquittal; you just mentioned the other two possibilities!" "False acquittal and stay of trial. Those are the only two possibilities left. said the painter, "but before we go on, do you take off your coat? You seem to be very hot." "Yes," said K.; After the painter mentioned it, he realized that the room was really hot, and his forehead was covered with sweat. "It's unbearably hot." The painter nodded, as if he understood K's discomfort very well. "Can't we open the window?" asked K. "No," replied the painter, "there is only one piece of glass on it, which is fastened to the roof and cannot be opened." Only then did K understand that he had been expecting that either he or the painter would suddenly come to the window and open it.As long as he can breathe fresh air, he can swallow a few puffs of smoke at the same time.The feeling of being completely cut off from the fresh air made him suddenly dizzy.He put his palms flat on the feather mattress and said in a weak voice: "It is neither comfortable nor hygienic." "Oh, no," the painter defended his window, "it is airtight, although there is only one layer Glass, but it keeps you warmer than double glazing. If I want to get some air in — which I don’t really need, since the cracks in the walls allow it — I just have to open one door, or both.” Listen. Reassured a little by this explanation, K immediately glanced around, looking for the second door.The painter guessed what K. was doing and said: "Behind you, I have to cover it with a bed." Only then did K. notice a small door in the wall. "This room is too small for a studio," said the painter, as if he knew K. would make a comment, and he preempted him. "I tried to arrange it so that the bed was next to the door, which of course was out of place. Take the judge whom I am painting now, he always enters by this door; I must give him the key, so that if I am not in the studio, he can come in first and wait for me. He, It usually comes in the morning, and I'm still asleep. Of course, no matter how hot I sleep, as soon as this door behind the bed opens, I wake up. He crawls out of my bed early in the morning, if you can hear me Greet him with curses, and you'll lose all reverence for the judge. Of course I could get the key back from him, but that would only make matters worse. It's easy to knock down any door here." They During the conversation, K. was debating whether to take off his coat, and at last he realized that he could not stay in the room any longer without taking it off; Yes, it saves time to put it back on after the conversation is over.He had just taken off his coat when a girl called out, "Now he's taken off his coat." He knew that they were all crowded at the door now, trying to see through the crack. "Girls thought," said the painter, "that now I'm going to paint you, and that's why you took off your coat." "I see," said K., who did not find it very amused; The shirt, however, is not much more comfortable than before.He asked sullenly, "What were the other two possibilities you were talking about?" He had forgotten their names. "Plea of ​​acquittal and indefinite stay of trial," said the painter, "is your choice. I can help you to realize either possibility, although there will certainly be some trouble; The difference is that a plea acquittal requires all of your energy for a short period of time, while a deferred trial requires less effort but persistence. Let's start with a plea acquittal. If you decide to pursue this possibility sex, I'm going to get a piece of paper and write an affidavit that you're innocent. My father taught me how to write this affidavit and it's never going to be a problem. Then I'll take this affidavit书到我认识的所有法官那儿去游说，先从现在正让我画像的那个法官开始，比方说，从他今天晚上来画像的时候开始，我就把宣誓书摊在他面前，向他解释你是无罪的，并且以我本身的名义保证你是清白无辜的。这不是一种徒具形式的保证，而是名符其实，具有约束力的保证。”画家的眼睛中露出一丝略带嗔责的目光，好像Ｋ不该让他担负这么重大的责任似的。 “你太好了，”Ｋ说，“可是，法官对你固然是相信的，但是仍旧不愿给我作出彻底宣判无罪的判决，是不是？”“关于这点，我已经解释过了，”画家回答道，“此外，是不是每个法官都相信我，还很难肯定；比如说，有的法官会要求亲自见见你。那样的话，我就得带着你去见他们。当然，如果出现了这种情况，就已成功了一半，尤其是因为我事先会确切地告诉你，在每个法官面前应该采取什么策略。真正的困难来自那些一开始就把我打发走的法官——这样的事肯定会有的。我当然会继续向他们申诉，但是咱们也许不得不甩开他们——当然，咱们是可以这样做的，因为个别法官的不同意见不至于影响判决结果。好吧，咱们再说下去，如果能争取相当数量的法官在宣誓书上签字，我就把宣誓书呈递到现在正在过问你的案件的主审法官手里，我或许也能让他在宣誓书上签名。这么一来，用不了多久，一切事情就能顺利解决了，解决的速度要比平常快得多。一般说来，在这个阶段以后，就不会有什么值得一提的困难了，被告到了这一阶段会感到信心十足。人们在这时要比正式宣判无罪时信心更足，这是很值得注意的，也确实如此。他们不必再做更多的事情了。主审法官手头有其他法官签名的宣誓书，他就能放心大胆地判处无罪开释了；虽然还有一些手续需要履行，但他肯定会判无罪开释，以取悦我和他的其他朋友。到那时，你就能作为一个自由的人，走出法院了。”“这么说，到那时我就自由了，”Ｋ半信半疑地说。 “对，”画家说，“但是仅仅是表面上自由，或者说得更确切一些，是暂时自由。因为我的熟人都是些低级法官，他们无权作出终审判决，无罪开释的终审判决权属于最高法院，你、我、以及我们大家都无法接近它。那儿的情况怎么样，我们不得而知；顺便说一句，我们甚至也不想知道。总之，我们的法官没有判处无罪开释的权利，但是他们有权暂时卸掉你身上的罪责。这就是说，他们可以宣布你无罪，暂时把罪责从你身上卸掉，但是这个罪名仍旧是在你头顶上，一旦上面来了命令，他们就把罪责重新安在你身上。我和法院的联系很密切，因此我也能够告诉你，法院各办公室在具体处理彻底宣判无罪和诡称宣判无罪时采取哪些不同做法。彻底宣判无罪时，与案子有关的文件据说都要销毁，它们消失了，再也看不见了，不仅起诉书被销毁，庭审记录和判决书也要销毁，所有东西都要销毁。诡称宣判无罪就不是这样。各种文件均需保留，包括宣誓书、判决记录和判决说明书。所有卷宗都得按照正常办公原则的要求，继续呈转，转到最高法院后，又转回低级法官，就这样转来转去，这儿耽搁几天，那儿积压一些日子。卷宗的往返次数是无法计算的。局外人有时会以为，整个案子已经被忘却，文件已经遗失，诡称宣判无罪已经成为彻底宣判无罪。但实际上，任何一个熟悉法院情况的人都不会这么想。任何文件也不会遗失，法院从来也不会忘记任何事情。有一天，某个法官会出其不意拿过卷宗来，仔细阅读；他会认为这起案件的起诉仍然有效，于是便下令立即逮捕人。我这么说，有一个假设前提，即从诡称宣判无罪到重新逮捕人犯之间，已过了很长时间，这是可能的，我听说过类似的情况。但也有这样的可能：得到无罪开释的人刚从法院回到家，便发现刑警已经等在那里要重新逮捕他了。于是，他的全部自由当然便就此告终了。”“这个案子又得从头开始审理吗？”Ｋ有点不相信地问道。 “当然啰，”画家说，“案子需要全部从头开始审理；但是结果也有可能和上次一样：诡称宣判无罪。于是人们又得为这个案子全力以赴，任何时候也不能松劲。”他讲出最后这句话，大概是因为发现Ｋ的脸上露出了绝望的表情。 “可是，”Ｋ说，他好像不想再听画家说下去了，“第二次争取得到无罪开释的结果是不是比第一次更难？”“在这一点上，”画家说，“谁也不敢说死。我觉得，你的意思是，第二次被捕会影响法官们对被告的看法？不是这样。法官们第一次宣布被告无罪时，就预见到有可能再次逮捕被告。因此，你的这种顾虑是完全多余的。但是，由于各种各样的原因，有时倒会发生这样的事：法官们对这件案子的看法变了，甚至从司法观点上说也产生了变化；因此，你就得根据业已变化的情况，采取相应的努力，争取第二次无罪开释。一般说来，要像争取第一次无罪开释时那样想尽法子、竭尽全力。”“但是，第二次无罪开释也不是终审判决呀，”Ｋ说，他不以为然地转过头去。 “当然不是，”画家说，“在第二次无罪开释后面跟着的是第三次被捕，在第三次无罪开释后面跟着的是第四次被捕，依次类推。诡称宣判无罪这个概念本身就包含着这些内容。”Ｋ无以置答。 “看来，你对诡称宣判无罪不感兴趣，”画家说，“也许延缓审理对你更为适合。我是不是需要向你解释一下，延缓审理是怎么回事？”Ｋ点点头。画家懒洋洋地重新躺到椅子上，他睡衣前面的钮扣脱开了，他伸进一只手，轻轻抚摩着自己的胸部。 “延缓审理，”他说；他凝视着前方，停了一会儿，像要找出一个十分确切的解释，“延缓审理就是诉讼停留在开始阶段，不再继续往下进行。为了取得延缓审理的结果，被告和他的代理人，尤其是他的代理人，必须与法院不断保持个人接触。请允许我再次指出，这虽然不像争取诡称宣判无罪那样，需要全力以赴；不过从另一方面来说，却需要更加保持警觉。你得经常注视着案子的情况，除了在紧急情况下要去找主管法官外，每隔一定时间也得去找他一次，而且要尽可能和他搞好关系。如果你本人不认识这位法官，那就应该通过你认识的那些法官尽量给他施加影响；同时要继续努力，争取亲自和他见一次面。如果这些事情中的任何一件你都没有忽略，那你就肯定能使诉讼不至于超越开始阶段。这并不意味着不再审理了，但是被告基本上可以不受判决的约束，就像一个自由的人一样。与诡称宣判无罪相比，延缓审理有其优越性，即被告的前景较为明朗，没有突然被捕的危险，用不着担心、紧张和焦虑，而这在争取诡称宣判无罪时是不可避免的，类似情况很可能在一个最不合宜的时刻出现。当然，对被告来说，延缓审理也有一些欠缺之处，一这也不容忽视。我这么说，并不是因为考虑到被告在这种情况下永远也不会真正获得自由，因为他在得到诡称宣判无罪后，也不见得能够真正获得自由。延缓审理的弊端在其它方面。要想把案子无限期地搁置起来，就必须找到几条站得住脚的理由。因此，每隔一段时间便得做做样子，采取各种措施，审问一次被告，收集一点证据等等，这当然只是走走过场而已。因为案子还得让它继续向前进展，尽管只是局限在人为划定的一个小圈子中。这当然意味着被告会偶尔遇到一些不愉快的事情；不过，你别以为这些事情会使人很不愉快，因为一切都是走走过场而已。比如说，审讯被告只消三言二语；如果你没有时间，或者不想去，你可以表示抱歉而不出庭；你还可以事先安排和某些法官见面；总之，你要做的一切只是隔一定时间到你的主审法官那儿去一次，以这种方式从形式上承认你处于被告地位。”画家讲最后这句话的时候，Ｋ已经把上衣搭在手臂上站了起来。 “他现在站起来了，”门外立即传来了喊声。 “你就要走了吗？”画家问，他也站了起来。 “我相信，是这儿的空气促使你离开的，我很遗憾。我还有好多话要对你说，我不得不讲得很简短。但是我希望已经解释得够清楚了。”“啊，是的，”Ｋ说，他不得不聚精会神地听画家讲话，头都疼了。虽然Ｋ承认画家已经讲清楚了，可是画家又接着总结了几句，想利用最后一次机会使他放心：“这两种方式的共同点是，可以避免被告受到判决。”“但是，它们也使被告不能真正无罪开释，”Ｋ低声说，他似乎因为自己作了这么一个尖锐的判断而感到窘迫。 “你抓住了事情的核心，”画家紧接着说。 Ｋ伸手去拿外套，但还没有决定是否把上衣穿上。他很想把外套和上衣捆成一捆，拿在手里，奔到外面去呼吸新鲜空气。他想到了姑娘们，尽管她们已经作出预报，说是他已经在穿衣服了，他还是不想把衣服穿上。画家急于猜度Ｋ的意图，便说道：“我觉得，你对于我的那几个建议还没有作出决定。这是对的。你如果想要匆匆决定的话，我还会劝阻你呢。需要细细斟酌，权衡利弊。每件事情都要仔细掂量。但是，从另一方面来说，你也不应该拖得太久。”“我不久会再来找你的，”Ｋ说，他顿时下定决心，穿好上衣，把外套往肩上一搭，匆匆朝门口走去；门外的女孩子们立即尖叫起来。 “你得守信用，”画家说；他没有跟着Ｋ，“否则我只好自己到银行里来了解情况了。”“请你开门，好吗？”Ｋ说；他拉了一下门把；觉得有阻力，他知道是门外的姑娘们在拽着。 “你不想受到女孩子们的纠缠吧？”画家问，“最好还是从这边出去吧。”他指指床后的那扇门。这正中Ｋ的下怀，他赶紧走回床边；但是画家却没去开门，而是钻到床底下，在那儿说道：“等一会儿，你想看一两幅画吗？你可能会想买的。”Ｋ不想失礼，要知道画家确实很关心他，还答应今后帮助他呢；此外，Ｋ一直到现在都没提怎么付给画家报酬的事，这完全是他的疏忽，既然画家自己提出卖画，他当然不能推诿。于是，他同意看一看，尽管他急着想出去，已经不耐烦到了极点。蒂托雷里从床底下拽出一堆没有镶框的画来，画上盖着厚厚一层灰尘，轻轻一吹便满屋子飞扬起来，弄得Ｋ睁不开眼睛，喘不过气来。 “大自然，荒野景色，”画家一面说，一面把画递给Ｋ。画面上是两棵低矮的树，分别位于一片深绿色草地的两端；背景是色彩斑斓的落日景象。 “很漂亮，”Ｋ说，“我买。”Ｋ的回答短得出乎自己的预料；但画家并没有觉得受辱，而是从地板上又拿起一幅画来，所以Ｋ很高兴。 “这幅画正好和那幅配对，”画家说。这幅画和那幅画倒真可以配对，两者没有丝毫区别：这幅画上也是两棵树、一片草地和一轮西斜的红日。不过Ｋ并不计较这点。 “是两幅极美的风景画，”他说，“我都买下，我要把它们挂在我的办公室里。”“看来你喜欢风景画，”画家一面说，一面又挑出一幅画来，“碰巧的是，我还有一幅这样的习作，”这并不像是什么习作，而是又一幅荒原风景画。画家显然正在尽量利用这个机会，推销过去画的画。 “这幅我也买下，”Ｋ说，“三幅一共多少钱？”“下次再说吧，”画家说，“你今天急着要走，反正咱们会保持联系的。老实说，你喜欢这些画，使我很高兴；我以后要把床底下的所有画都附送给你。全是荒野风景画，当初我画了几十幅。有些人不喜欢这类题材，说是格调太低沉，可是我相信总能找到一些像你这样的人，喜欢格调低沉的画。”然而，Ｋ再也没有心思听这位兜售自己作品的画家发表他的艺术见解了。 “请把这三幅画包好，”他打断蒂托雷里的絮叨，大声说，“我的仆人明天会来取的。”“不必要，”画家说，“我可以找个搬运工，现在就跟你走，把画给你送去。”他终于走到床后面，把门打开。 “别怕踩在床上，”他说，“从这扇门出去的人都从床上踩过去。”画家即使不这么说，Ｋ也会这么做的，他的一只脚已经踩在羽毛褥垫的正中间；可是，他透过开着的门朝外一望，又把那只脚收了回来。 “怎么回事？”他问画家。 “什么东西使你这么奇怪？”画家反问道，他也觉得奇怪了，“这些是法院办公室。你原先不知道这儿有法院的办公室吗？几乎每栋房子的阁楼上都有法院的办公室，这栋房子为什么应该是例外呢？我的画室实际上也是属于法院办公室的，不过法院把它交给我使用了。”使Ｋ大吃一惊的倒并不是发现了法院办公室；而是发现自己居然对有关法院的事情如此一无所知。他承认，对于一个被告来说，一条根本原则是事事提防，永远不处于措手不及的地位；如果法官在左面出现，被告的眼睛决不能漫不经心地看着右面——而他却一次又一次地违反了这条原则。他的面前是一条长长的过道，画室里的空气和这里的空气一比，就算很新鲜了。过道两边摆着长凳，和审理Ｋ的案子的那些办公室之间的过道一模一样。这么看来，办公室的内部布置有特定的规则。当时没有多少当事人来来往往。一个男人在长凳上半坐半靠着，双手捂着脸，好像睡着了；另外一个男人站在过道尽头一个光线阴暗的地方。 Ｋ这时从床上走过去，画家拿着画，跟在他后面。他们很快便找到了一个门房——这些人虽然穿着普通衣服，但衣服上除了一般的钮扣外，还有一颗金扣子，Ｋ现在已经能把他们辨认出来了——，画家让他拿着画送Ｋ回家。 Ｋ掏出手绢，捂着嘴；他不像走路，而是在跑步。他们快要走到过道尽头时，姑娘们拥了上来；Ｋ终于未能避免和她们相遇。姑娘们显然看见画室的第二扇门开了，她们赶快绕着圈子赶到这儿来了。 “我不能再送你了，”画家笑着大声说道，他已经被女孩子们团团围住了，“下次再见吧，抓紧时间好好考虑一下！”Ｋ甚至没有回头看一眼。他来到马路上后，叫过头一辆驰来的出租马车。他得甩掉门房，因为门房的金扣子使他心烦，虽然它看来并没有引起任何别人的注意。忠心耿耿的门房上了车，坐在车夫旁边，但是Ｋ吩咐他下了车。 Ｋ到达银行时，早已过了中午。他本想把画扔在车内，但又怕哪一天画家会问起这些画所表达的意境；所以他只好把画带进办公室，锁在写字台最下面的那个抽屉里，至少最近几天不能让副经理看见这几幅画。