“I am happy you are safe,” said the baron. “But come in! Why are we standing here in the doorway in the chill! Let me go tell Marion. She will be delighted you are here. We will have tea. Shall I have Carola bring bread? Are you hungry?”

“Wonderful. Yes, I suppose I am. It is good to be back among friends.”

“How long do we have you for?” asked the baron, closing the door and leading his friend into the adjacent waiting room.

“Unfortunately, not for long. There are some matters I must discuss with you, in private I’m afraid. Then I must go.”

Dortmann’s brow clouded.

“I will bring Marion,” he said after a brief pause. “We will eat and drink. Then you and I shall go up to my study and talk. I am at your service.”

An hour later the two men took seats in the baron’s southwest corner study on the first floor. A large window looking out over the countryside to the west revealed empty fields in all directions, some showing only the rich black dirt of fallow, others green with a winter’s crop of green manure ground cover. A light dusting of white was visible here and there from scattered snow flurries that had been attempting all morning to begin in earnest but which had thus far been unsuccessful.

“We may be snowed in before morning, Dietrich,” said the baron as he stood gazing out upon his land. “Perhaps you will be with us for a while after all.”

“Then I must be off with as little delay as possible.”

“Where are you bound?”

“To my sister’s, at Göttingen.”

“You have a long drive. You are welcome to stay the night.”

“No, no, I really must not,” replied Bonhoeffer with urgency in his tone.

“Berlin, then?”

A look of surprise passed over Dietrich’s face.

“You did not hear?”

“Hear what?”

“I thought I had called you, perhaps I only meant to—it has been so hectic.”

“What have I not heard, Dietrich?” asked the baron seriously, moving now away from the window and taking a chair opposite the one in which his friend sat.

“I was ordered out of the city last month.”

“Ordered—by whom?”

“Who else? The Gestapo. I have lived there all my life, but I was forbidden to live or work there any longer.” The sadness in his voice was clearly evident.

“Where have you been since?”

“East of here, up in Groβ-Schlönwitz.”

“And now you are going to Göttingen. What will you do there?”

“For one thing, I think I shall be safe. For a while at least. And my presence will not endanger the work here. Göttingen is far from the power base of Berlin. Perhaps the Nazis will forget about me.”

“What are your plans?”