So many thoughts flooded the mind of Gustav von Schmundt at this moment. This was the land of his childhood. Had it really been as innocent as the memory now seemed? Had he in truth played and talked and been on such friendly terms with a man he might actually have to kill?

How could such a thing be?

Was this a terrible dream?

Kill… him!

Could he pull the trigger? Could he kill Sabina’s father?

What would become of Sabina then? He knew her well enough to realize she would sooner die like an animal at Auschwitz than marry her father’s murderer!

Yet Korsch would expect nothing less of him.

Not only was his own future on the line, perhaps too was his very life. Promotions and benefits did not brightly bode on the horizon for SS agents who balked in the line of duty, especially ones who turned soft on Jews and their sympathizers.

What had he gotten himself into, Gustav wondered.

He was beginning to recognize the landmarks of the countryside. It wouldn’t be much farther now!

92 The Communion Supper

92

The Communion Supper

Unaware of the peril speeding toward them, the baron rose again and walked to the table beside him, folding back the right side of the linen cloth. There sat an identical basket of bread and a large cup of wine.

“We too celebrate this event you have spoken of,” said the baron. “Our Lord taught his followers likewise to remember the Passover and to pass the tradition on. When he ate this same Passover feast with his friends, it was a night just such as this, a night of parting, a night when the portent of death hung in the air. He knew his time on earth was through, that his work had reached the fulfillment of its purpose. Therefore, not only was death present, but, through that death, freedom as well.

“So many of our symbols and traditions have common meaning. It is my prayer we can tonight celebrate that unity toward which the things of our Father are always pointing.

“You were taught to do this in remembrance of God’s faithfulness. We have been taught to do this in remembrance of his Son. He broke bread with his followers at their last meal together. This will be our spiritual Last Supper, our Passover supper, as my cousin—” he glanced over at the rabbi with a smile—“has expressed it. As Christians we eat the same bread as you, and we drink the wine in remembrance of the blood that was shed.”

He paused and looked around the room, flickering in candlelight, knowing full well the import of his words, then added: “Tonight, we will share the bread.”

He turned back to the table, joined now by the rabbi, where together they folded back the linen cloth in the center of the table to reveal an empty bread basket identical to the two on either side.