On a lonely stretch of dirt road three kilometers west of Wloclawek, three figures—a woman, a boy, and a man carrying an awkward blanketed bundle—trudged forward through the night.

A drenching rain had made their progress miserable, though it would ensure that the dogs sent to find them a few hours from now would find muddy and unsuccessful work of it.

Some distance on, at a small bridge across a creek the man, leading the other two, turned right and pursued a course along the edge of the stream that bordered a fallow field. Half a kilometer from the bridge, he paused, glancing about the unfamiliar terrain with the aid of the moon, which was still battling the saturate clouds for supremacy of the night sky, then continued, bearing now on an angle away from the field, but still following the stream.

At length they came to the edge of a grove of birch and pine. He stopped, set down his burden, glanced nervously in every direction, and waited.

From the dark interior of the wood fifty meters away, a brief flicker of light flashed, then disappeared.

“That is the signal,” whispered Jakob.

“What if it is a trap, Jakob?” said Ulrike. “What if it’s a Gestapo agent?”

“It is the signal I was told to watch for. Come.”

Each of the two picked up one of the youngsters, then entered the wood, making their way through the trees, stumbling now and then, for there was no path.

When they had gone the distance Jakob calculated to be far enough, they stopped.

Several meters in front of him he detected the form of a man. It was only a shadow in the blackness. It moved. A voice spoke. It was Polish.

“Mr. Kropf,” he said.

“Yes, I am Jakob Kropf. Luddoff?”

“Come with me,” said the man without answering. “You are late.”

“The Gestapo raided our house. We had to hide for two hours.”

“We are an hour behind schedule. I must get you to my house before daybreak or all will be lost.”

The man began walking briskly through the woods. Jakob and Ulrike each did their best to keep up, still carrying the heavy children.

As the man set off, a second figure emerged from the trees and fell into step with them.

“Who is this?” asked Jakob. “I was told there would be only one man.”

“This, Mr. Kropf, will be your traveling companion.”

“I thought it was but my family and me.”

“There has been a change of plans. It is imperative he get out of this region and to a safe house away from here. His family will join you tomorrow.”

The second man stopped and turned around.

“I am sorry to be inconvenient, Mr. Kropf,” he said in perfect Polish. “I pray I do not endanger you in anyway. Perhaps I will be able to help you and your wife with the children. My name is Heziah Wissen.”