If I’m to be working down here, for instance, it will make more sense to live down here, too. I’m also afraid that life up in the castle would not agree with me. I’m keen to stay free.’

‘You don’t know the castle,’ the landlord said quietly.

‘Granted,’ said K., ‘one shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I mean, all I know about the castle at the moment is that they know how to choose the right land surveyor. The place may have other merits.’ And he stood up to give the landlord, who was chewing his lips uneasily, his release. It was not going to be easy, gaining this man’s trust.

As K. walked away, his attention was drawn to a picture on the wall, a dark portrait in a dark frame. He had noticed it before, from his bed, but at that distance, unable to make out details, he had thought the actual painting had been removed from the frame, leaving only a black backing-sheet visible. However, it was in fact a painting, as now emerged, a half-length portrait of a man of perhaps fifty. The head was sunk so low on the breast that very little could be seen of the man’s eyes, the apparent cause of the sinking being the high, heavy forehead and the large hooked nose. The beard, forced in at the chin by the way the head was held, stood out farther down. The left hand lay splayed in the thick hair but was no longer capable of lifting the head. ‘Who is that?’ K. asked, ‘the count?’ Planted in front of the picture, K. did not even look round at the landlord. ‘No,’ said the landlord, ‘the governor.’ ‘They’ve a handsome governor up at the castle, that’s a fact,’ said K., ‘pity his son turned out so badly.’ ‘No,’ said the landlord, pulling K. down to him slightly and whispering in his ear: ‘Schwarzer was exaggerating yesterday, his father is only an under-governor, and one of the lowest at that.’ Just then, for a moment, the landlord looked to K. like a child. ‘The rascal!’ K. said with a laugh, but the landlord did not join in the laughter, saying only: ‘Even his father is powerful.’ ‘Go on!’ said K., ‘you think everyone’s powerful. Me too, I suppose?’ ‘You,’ he said shyly but in earnest, ‘I do not consider powerful.’ ‘In that case you’re a very observant man,’ said K., ‘because powerful, between you and me, is something I really am not. And I probably, as a result, have no less respect for the powerful than you do, only I’m not as honest as you and won’t always admit it.’ And to console the landlord and make him more kindly disposed towards him, K. patted him on the cheek. At this, he did give a little smile. He was very much a youth with his soft almost beardless face. How had he come by his fat elderly wife, now visible through a hatch in the next room, elbows held wide, bustling about in the kitchen? But K. decided not to press him any further just now, not dispel the smile he had at last elicited, so he simply signalled to him to open the door for him and stepped out into the fine winter’s morning.

Now he could see the castle up above, sharply outlined in the clear air and made even sharper by the thin layer of snow that covered everything, duplicating every shape. There seemed in fact to be far less snow up on the hill than here in the village, where K. found progress no less laborious than out on the main road the day before. Here the snow came up to the windows of the cottages and then immediately lay heavy again on their low roofs, but up on the hill everything rose freely and airily skyward, at least so it appeared from below.

On the whole, seen from this distance, the castle matched K.’s expectations.