“People are going to die—perhaps millions,” Thaddeus continued. “I simply do not want you dear friends to be caught up in the terrible conflict that is sure to come.”

A heavy silence descended over the room. All present knew that destinies and futures hung in the balance. The dilemmas and decisions facing them were heart wrenching, as would be their parting, if such was indeed inevitable.

“I have just learned,” said the baron in a low tone, “something of the whereabouts of our friend and Christian brother Dietrich Bonhoeffer. The information only came to me days ago. I thank God I did not possess it when interrogated at the count’s by that fellow who was intent on finding him. What I have learned is that Dietrich is back in Germany, after a long absence.”

“Where was he?” asked Thaddeus.

“Initially in England, then in the United States,” answered Dortmann. “But he has recently returned. He has said that he decided that he must live through this difficult period in our national history with the Christian people of Germany. Even above his own personal safety, he feels compelled to remain here with his people.”

The baron paused, then added, “He is a courageous man, and I feel such is my calling as well. We may be able, in some way, I know not how at present, to help God’s people endure this time of darkness. God may have a work for me to do here, among my people.”

“Won’t you reconsider, then, on behalf of your wife and daughter?”

The baron glanced at his wife beside him.

“It may become… dangerous,” he said softly, “…especially for you, my dear. I would rest easier if I knew you were safe and—”

“Heinrich, please,” Marion interrupted. “We have been over this already many times. You have already tried to persuade me to go, and my answer is still the same. I belong at your side, and that is where I shall remain. I too am a German, whatever else I may also be, and I have no wish to leave my homeland.”

The baron nodded. He knew it was no use trying to change her mind.

“The work God gives us may be to my wife’s people as well, Thaddeus,” he said. “She would not allow me to carry out that work alone.”

He paused briefly.

“Sabina,” he said, glancing across the room toward his daughter. “Matthew and his father have offered to take you with them—it would only be for a time, until the danger is past. You have my blessing to accompany them. I would like you to, in fact, though your mother and I would miss you desperately. We would make any sacrifice to see that no harm comes to you.”

“Thank you, Papa,” said Sabina.

“But you are eighteen now, and this is a life-changing decision… one I must leave in your own hands.”

“Will you come with us, Sabina?” asked Thaddeus.