Joseph rose to leave with the others, but Gerald invited him to stay seated, giving a nod to those present. At the same time, Macarius arrived at the gate, giving the signature bird-call. When he too had sat down, and the Palmer children were sent inside, K felt a curious thrill of expectation. Something was afoot, and it almost seemed to him as though the festivities had been a mere pretext to what was now about to take place. The men and women who remained exchanged meaningful looks in the darkness, and all were silent until Gerald rose to speak.
‘Friends and companions. Now that we are assembled again, and before we start our meeting, I would like to make an introduction.’
He gestured towards K, meeting the eyes of the rest of the people.
‘I can vouch for the character of this man here, Joseph K. Though he is not yet a member of our organisation, I believe he can be trusted.’
‘Hear hear.’ spake Horace, before K could say anything. ‘He’s a man after our own ways, and a valuable asset in the estate.’
K’s wonder turned to worry – organisation? Just what exactly were these people talking about? How was he an asset, and to whom? He sat there in bewilderment, looking to the others for support, or an explanation, but he saw only the faces of strangers, sizing him up. Neither Horace nor Gerald looked at him, but awaited the verdict of their comrades. After a painful silence, each of the company nodded his or her head in agreement, and at last Horace turned to address K directly.
‘Excuse us for the formality, Mr. K. We can make no independent judgments here, but only agree on issues as a body. The nature of this group is not common knowledge, but neither is it held in strict secrecy among those of us in the undeclared territories. What is important is that we are unknown to the authorities of the estate, but not, I think, to its highest authority.’
This was all very vague, especially for Horace, and K was quite dismayed. It sounded as though he was being initiated into a conspiracy – exactly like that, in fact, and he said so, to make it plain that he didn’t approve of such things.
‘That’s another reason we can trust you, Joseph.’ Gerald answered him seriously.
‘We are something in the manner of a secret society – that much is true,’ Horace admitted, ‘though only insofar as we have been driven underground by our opposition in the estate, of whom your boss, Tollswhip, is a key representative. We are not conspirators, for our interests don’t lie in control or gaining power, but in maintaining the liberty and good order of both papered and paperless, on and off the estate.’
‘And how exactly does your “organisation” maintain this good order and liberty?’ asked K, still on his guard.
‘So far, chiefly through intelligence. We keep both eyes on the estate and the movements of our enemies. That has been enough up to the present, because we happen to have a powerful advocate. Yes,’ he nodded to K, ‘Lady Avonhurst. We are loyalists, you see.’
‘You must understand, Joseph,’ Gerald put in, ‘there are those who would seek to depose Her Ladyship, and use His Lordship as a puppet ruler while they implement their own policies. You can imagine these would not be favourable to our friends in the undeclared territories.’
‘And you keep Her Ladyship informed of their plans? What will you do if they somehow manage to seize power?’ K asked.
Horace answered him:
‘Currently we are focusing on gaining support within the estate – but it’s difficult work. We paperless are… unpopular, to say the least. A lot has to be done through word of mouth, and undercover. That is why we are on the look-out for allies like yourself. If push comes to shove, we will have to defend ourselves here, with arms. That is not the purpose of our organisation, however. Our purpose is to prevent that last resort.’
‘Of course,’ Macarius spoke up for the first time, his voice sounding very close in the darkness. ‘This all assumes that our enemies play by the rules, or feign to, at least. There are no guarantees that they will respect the treaty signed by Her Ladyship. So the threat of violence is a constant concern for us here.’
‘The odds are against us.’ Horace continued, turning to K again. ‘Yet even so, understand that we do not need you. Each one of us is, in a sense, superfluous, and not up to the task. Nevertheless, should you choose of your own free will to take up our cause, you will find yourself one of the company – with all the support and responsibility that brings.’ His face hung, as if suspended, in the candlelight, his expression severe. K felt the seriousness of the situation, but the first moment of decision evaded him – he was too taken aback, too cautious to express anything but confusion.
‘Don’t trouble yourself over it all at once.’ Delia interjected kindly. ‘We’re not pressuring you to take a side, though it might come to that later. Not by our choice, you understand.’
‘Yes,’ Horace agreed, ‘you must think about this in your own time. You’re not being brought in without a way out. Think of this as an introduction to who we are and what we’re about.’
‘Well,’ said K, somewhat reassured. ‘If it’s an introduction, I might as well ask an obvious question: what do you call yourselves?’
‘This is the Magpie club.’ Horace answered, ‘It’s had different names over the years – this most recent title… well, it was more of a joke, really, but it stuck.’
‘It’s fairly innocuous, and reminds others that we’re not about any skulduggery or lawlessness.’ Gerald put in.
‘I like it, but why magpies?’ K asked. ‘You’re not thieves, are you?’
‘No, Mr. K,’ Macarius said, ‘but our eyes are open and on the treasure – the hidden treasure, not that of appearances.’
‘Every artist is, in some sense, a thief. If he’s inspired.’ Horace said, enigmatically, and everyone murmured in agreement.
‘But art, hidden treasures, politics… this all sounds a bit, well… mad. What have they got to do with each other?’ If K had started to find the thread of what they were saying, he’d lost it again.
‘Truth is the key. But that cannot be explained, only experienced.’ Horace looked at him steadily for a moment, then he said: ‘I think that is enough for now. Forgive me if I ask you to leave; we have to proceed onto more confidential matters for which you can’t be present, as an outsider. All the same, I hope you’ll stay over, in our spare room.’
K said he understood, though he did only vaguely, and went inside. It was all quite baffling, and he sincerely hoped that a proper, lucid explanation would be forthcoming. He loathed secrecy, and saw no reason why this made him fit for their ‘company’, if they indeed did trust him and weren’t playing a horrible prank.
He fretted and thought on all these things like a dog chasing its tail as he lay down to sleep in that familiar room, until he could think no more, but fell asleep in that state of agitation.
When he awoke he had a few merciful moments of forgetfulness, until the events of the preceding night came back to him. Had all that really taken place? Horace’s face, floating in the darkness, surfaced in his mind’s eye, and he shivered. A gentle breeze disturbed the curtain by his head as he lay there, feeling the weight of his weary limbs – he’d had a poor night’s sleep.
Yet it was enough to hear the sound of a woman’s voice – Livy, singing, elsewhere in the house – for the sun to dawn again in that little room, and he brought himself to his feet. Just the sound, soft yet stirring, restored that sense of wellness he’d experienced more than a few times since his appointment, if only fleetingly. Coming into the living room, he encountered Macarius, however, seated on a settee. It was an odd sight, for he was now shaven and well-dressed. For the first time K was struck by a certain nobility in his face, and a bearing that matched it. Seeing him thus, he wondered more than ever how it was that he had come to wander the grounds like a beggar, and was so preoccupied with these thoughts that when Macarius rose to his feet and spoke to him, he missed what was said. So, he simply smiled and nodded as if he had heard, hoping it hadn’t been anything important.
‘Shall we have something to eat, then?’ The elder continued, and they passed out onto the lawn, where the tables and many of the decorations from the day before still remained. Soon after seating themselves at table, Livy came out with some victuals for them. Mrs. Palmer was close behind, and complimented Macarius on his get-up.
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‘Very handsome – just like the old days!’
K was surprised to see the old man looking very bashful at this.
‘Aye, it’s a pity he don’t wear this disguise more often!’ came a croaky, but spirited voice from the doorway to the house. K couldn’t immediately see who it was who’d said this, for it was some minutes before the owner of the voice caught up with her words.
‘Oh, what’s she doing here?’ Mrs. Palmer said, sounding worried. ‘Give her a hand, Livy, go on.’
Livy returned holding the arm of a very hunched and ancient woman, who shuffled along extremely slowly by means of a walking stick. Taking his cue from Macarius, K leap to his feet to greet this old matriarch as she entered the garden, surveying them all imperiously from two wrinkled eye-sockets, and giving orders to Mrs. Palmer all the while. To all of these commands the wife of Horace and mother of four replied with the meekness of a schoolgirl, ending each sentence with a ‘yes grandmother’ or an ‘of course, grandmother’. So it was that K was able to identify this unexpected visitor, who, though she evidently lived in the settlement, must have risen well before dawn in order to visit them on foot at so early an hour. After just a few minutes of her company he began to regret this fact, for it seemed that she was ill used to gadding about, and that once seated she was not likely to move for a good few hours at least. Thus they were stuck with her while they remained at the Palmers’, and just when all had been anticipating a peaceful morning.
‘What is it this time, John?’ She began, when at last she was seated, with a cup of tea in hand. ‘Another scheme to snoop around up at the house? Give over, son! You’re not still hoping just to snag a glimpse of her, are you? If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: move on.’
Everyone looked embarrassed about this – K most of all, in his ignorance. But Macarius, far from cowed, met her sharp eyes with his own steady gaze. Still, he said nothing to her, so the woman continued, unabashed.
‘Granted, you’ll tell me you’re an old man now, but 68 ain’t a patch on 90! You’ve years ahead of you – just look at me! Living my life!’
Livy snorted at this, and stifled it at once. Fortunately for her, her great-grandmother didn’t notice.
‘No, I tell you: it was lunacy from the start. To think, you could have had a nice life, and now look at you! Such a waste.’
‘Grandmother.’ Mrs. Palmer said warningly, and K saw that her face was creased with anger, and sorrow. He very much wanted to get up and leave the conversation, shifting forward in his chair instinctively, but Macarius laid a hand on his arm to stop him. K was surprised to see him smile at the old lady.
‘Well, Lilith, with your superior age and experience, you were always the wiser one. But we’ve both chosen our courses, and now we’re sticking to them.’ He spoke firmly, but good-naturedly, and would not allow himself to be interrupted.
‘Anyway,’ he said, before she could start up again. ‘Joseph and I have somewhere to be in the next couple of hours, hence my get-up, and it’s not an errand we can talk about carelessly. Joseph,’ he said, turning to K, ‘when you’ve finished your breakfast, we’ll go, alright? Meet me on the front porch. Excuse me, ladies.’ And he rose from his place, taking his leave of them with much dignity and decorum. The old woman looked most put out by this, and lapsed into a sulky silence. This put everyone else in better humour, so that they all felt a little sorry for her – as one pities a defeated enemy – and Mrs. Palmer began to dote on her, as if their roles had been reversed. Nor did the old lady scorn this molly-coddling, but suffered to be pampered as if it was her due. K hurried to finish eating, before his presence might reignite the woman’s curiosity and set her tongue wagging again, and indeed he felt her beady eyes follow him, narrowed to mere slits, as he got up and gave his goodbyes. As promised, Macarius was waiting for him on the porch, whistling a wistful little tune.
‘Ready?’ He asked.
‘As I’ll ever be. Where are we off to?’
‘If it’s alright with you, I’ll explain on the way. Don’t worry – you won’t have to do anything, I just need a bit of company getting back into the estate. If anything looks fishy, we’ll separate and you do your best to feign ignorance. Sound okay?’ He looked earnestly at K, as if aware that he was drawing the young lawyer out of his comfort zone and into a new, more complicated relationship with the estate. Yet having a youthful sense of honour and loyalty, and that eagerness to please that makes one hate to let people down, K agreed to the plan at once. He still maintained a naive sense of confidence that he hadn’t committed to any position yet, and always had the chance of backing out at any stage. He didn’t really consider that the estate might see things differently.
They set off walking down the hill and out of the settlement, while the sun was still low in the sky. It was very quiet in the fields nearby, though the birds and beasts were wide awake, and as they walked and talked K felt as though they were trampling over all that calm with their noisy footfalls and brash voices. Indeed, Macarius seemed to share this sense of reverence for nature, and lowered his voice as they carried on, especially as they got deeper into the wilds.
He was explaining to K that, like Horace, he was an actor, with several roles under his belt. The one K knew him by was the beggarly character who hung around the estate, trading tales and gathering information to aid the cause of the Magpie club. Lately, however, the sources of gossip had been drying up, for folk on the estate were more and more intimidated by Wurtring’s men, and were turning against the paperless. He – Macarius, or John as he was really called – had to pull out another disguise, since he had a plan to get his own eyes and ears into the estate, deeper than he’d yet infiltrated.
K asked why he hadn’t be asked to pass information.
‘We don’t pressure anyone into doing anything. Or we do our best not to. If there’s a risk worth taking, we take it ourselves as much as we can. Even then, we’re more likely to be stopped by another Magpie – everyone looks out for everyone else.’
K was relieved to hear this, for he’d been turning over the idea in his mind that they might have him rifling through Tollswhip’s files, or doing something equally unlawful. He said so to John.
‘I can’t think of any other reason why you’d choose me.’ He felt used, and the thought depressed him a little.
‘Choose you? Mr. K, you yourself chose to associate with us! Don’t think we’ve been grooming you to spy for us. I suppose it must look that way, though...’ The elder gave him a calculating look.
‘What a fool I must look!’ K thought to himself. ‘Of course, it’s obvious now that I can’t go on flip-flopping between the estate and the paperless, but have I really wandered so far to their side?’
‘You know, as soon as we get in range of the wall, we can split up, Joseph.’ John seemed to have read his mind. ‘After that it’s entirely up to you how much you associate with us. I apologise if we’ve deceived or misled you at all, and I promise I won’t bring this up again if you don’t.’ He stopped short and stood facing K, and gave him his word on it.
‘Thank you Macarius, or John… I appreciate that very much. For the record, I don’t feel I’ve been misled, or… only a little. I’ll be glad to have the chance to think about all this, in any case.’
They were both cheered by this new understanding, and continued on their way in higher spirits. For K, some of the pressure he’d felt had been eased, and he let go of his worries, coming back to himself, and savouring the warmth and radiance of the country they were passing through. They were both silent, listening to the sound of birdsong; of running water in a nearby brook; of wind gently rustling through trees and bushes. Eventually, K made out another sound – far off, but insistent – the barking of hounds. Macarius stopped dead in his tracks, straining his ears. Though distant, it was obvious to them both that the sound was travelling nearer.
‘Quick’ breathed Macarius. ‘Go back along the way and hide, as best you can. This is not good.’
K hesitated.
‘What about you?’
‘I’ll hide nearby, try and see what we’re up against. Meet me back here in a quarter of an hour, if all goes well. I’ll give the call. Now, go!’
The barking was much closer now, as K ran aside into the surrounding undergrowth. He got onto a higher patch of ground, with a view of the clearing they’d been passing through, and hunkered down among some shrubs, for cover.
He saw Macarius turn off the way and into a ditch, lying low amid tree-roots and brambles. Over the crest of the next hill there bounded half a dozen hunting dog, straining on leashes – pulling along a number of grim-faced and brawny-looking men. After a command from their leader, the foremost of these men let his dog off the leash, and it headed straight to Macarius’ hiding place. Mercifully for him, it only barked and jumped about, for, K saw, the beasts had at least been muzzled – probably for their owners’ benefit. The men rushed upon Macarius and dragged him out forcefully, though he put up no struggle, and pushed him onto his knees before their leader.
Some conversation took place, which K could not make out, but clearly Macarius was being interrogated. One of the men rooted around in his pockets, for papers presumably, and, finding none, gave him a crack across the head with a truncheon. He was knocked out cold, or worse. K couldn’t tell. The gang of thugs stood about his outstretched body, laughing cruelly, until their leader called them to attention. This time K heard very clearly what was said, for the man had a loud and penetrating voice that seemed to burst forth from his great barrel chest.
‘Leave the paperless scum out here to rot – he’s not worth our time. We’re looking out for a Joseph K. Let’s have a search of the area and then we’ll move on.’
Almost without thinking – only full of anger at what the brutes had done to Macarius, and fear for what they might do if they found the settlement – K leapt from his hiding place and into sight of them. He called out wrathfully: ‘Here I am! What do you want with me?’ but his voice was drowned out by the dogs, who began a chorus of barking as soon as they saw him. The men yelled out too, and let the dogs off their leads, and then K’s instincts kicked in, and he was running headlong from the scene. He sped on further into the wild – away from the settlement, but no nearer to the estate – but it was a short-lived chase. In a minute he was surrounded on all sides by dogs, and then the thugs were upon him, searching his bag for documents. After that he scarcely remembered anything more, save that their leader approached and spoke directly to him.
‘Joseph K, you’re under arrest for desertion and dereliction of duties. I have a warrant here, signed by the estate manager, Mr. Tollswhip. You’re coming with us.’ And they led him away into custody.