and that he had taken this uncomfortable sledge because it was standing ready, and to get out one of the others would have wasted too much time. “Sit down,” he said, pointing to the sledge. “I’ll sit beside you,” said K. “I’m going to walk,” said Gerstäcker. “But why?” asked K. “I’m going to walk,” repeated Gerstäcker, and was seized with a fit of coughing which shook him so severely that he had to brace his legs in the snow and hold on to the rim of the sledge. K. said no more, but sat down on the sledge, the man’s cough slowly abated, and they drove off.
The Castle above them, which K. had hoped to reach that very day, was already beginning to grow dark, and retreated again into the distance. But as if to give him a parting sign till their next encounter a bell began to ring merrily up there, a bell which for at least a second made his heart palpitate, for its tone was menacing, too, as if it threatened him with the fulfilment of his vague desire. This great bell soon died away, however, and its place was taken by a feeble monotonous little tinkle which might have come from the Castle, but might have been somewhere in the village. It certainly harmonised better with the slow-going journey with the wretched-looking yet inexorable driver.