“Now, one at a time,” he said, “I want you to get up and leave. Go home. Do not talk to anyone about what we have discussed, not even your parents. If you are going to work for me, secrecy is the most important element of our plan. If I should find that you have been disloyal to me, then, well, I’m sure I need say no more.”

He cast upon them a glare whose intent was impossible to mistake, then nodded first to the sixteen-year-old, who rose and left, followed several minutes later by the next.

After the small clique had broken up, however, he remained another thirty minutes, speaking privately and sharing a new stein with the oldest of the three, he whom Korsch had specifically instructed him to draw into their net. He wanted to make sure that when he returned to Berlin tomorrow, the fellow knew when and where to contact him.

An hour later Gustav climbed into the Mercedes his father had recently bought for him. He had had three or four more beers after the fellow was gone, and two or three glasses of brandy as well. It was late enough, he thought, that his mother would be in bed, and if he snuck in the side door, she would never hear him. His father was not at home.

In the fogginess of his stupor, his brain had difficulty focusing on the road ahead of him, much less organizing itself coherently about any train of ideas. Everything that had been talked about through the evening ran in scattered, random fashion through his consciousness, already blurring with the passage of time and the deepening of his drunkenness.

What would his mother think if she chanced to still be up?… What difference did it make, he thought, she was in no better state half the time, the fat old hausfrau, though he couldn’t afford to let Sabina see him like this, the conceited little prude… that would be the end of everything!

She wouldn’t see him… she couldn’t see him… but he could see her! Gustav chuckled, congratulating himself on his sly methods of keeping track of her. She’ll make a fine wife, the little wench… someday I’ll tell her… I’ll take her to the very place. She’d belong to him… the whole valley and hill and woods and both estates… it would all be his!… no one would look down on little Gustav then!

Scattered words from the visitor from Berlin filtered back into the midst of his dreams about the future… anything that dilutes loyalty… information… Christians… anything out of the ordinary… call me….

He pulled off the road and toward his father’s estate.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something in the night… a glare… a flash….

He turned. What were those lights away there, across the fields?

What could it be?