“I learned it in the—,” the cook said, and then he lost all color.

Mimo dashed into the room, covered in sweat, at the same time Brother Bormio said, “Nazis to Motta.”

“I saw them from above!” Mimo cried. “Four or five lorries down in Madesimo, and soldiers going door to door. We skied across as fast as we could.”

Father Re looked to the refugees. “We have to hide them.”

“They’ll search,” Brother Bormio said.

One of the refugee mothers got up, shaking. “Should we run, Father?”

“They’ll track you,” Father Re said.

For some reason, Pino thought of the oxen that had woken him up that morning.

“Father,” he said slowly. “I’ve got an idea.”

An hour later, Pino was in the bell tower, nervous as hell, and looking through Father Re’s binoculars, when a German army Kübelwagen appeared from the woods on the cart track from Madesimo, the jeep-style vehicle’s tires spinning and throwing up mud and snow. A second, larger German lorry lumbered behind it, but Pino ignored it, trying to see through the mud-spattered windshield of the smaller lead vehicle.

The Kübelwagen slid almost sideways, and Pino got a strong look at the uniform and the face of the officer in the front passenger seat. Even at a distance, Pino recognized him. He’d seen the man up close before.

Terrified now, Pino clambered down the ladder and sped out a door behind the altar. Ignoring the ox bells clanking behind him, he sprinted through the back door of Casa Alpina, then into the kitchen and the dining hall.

“Father, it’s Colonel Rauff!” he gasped. “The head of the Gestapo in Milan!”

“How can you—?”

“I saw him in my uncle’s leather shop once,” Pino said. “It’s him.”

Pino fought the urge to flee. Colonel Rauff had ordered the massacre at Meina. If he would order innocent Jews to jump in a lake and see them machine-gunned, would he stop at executing a priest and a group of boys saving Jews?

Father Re went out onto the porch. Pino hung back in the hallway, not knowing what to do. Was his idea good enough? Or would the Nazis find the Jews and kill everyone at Casa Alpina?

Rauff’s vehicle slid to a stop in the slush, not far from where Tito had threatened them all earlier in the day. The Gestapo colonel was as Pino remembered him: balding, medium build, jowly, with a sharp nose, flat, thin lips, and flat, dark eyes that gave away nothing. He wore calf-high black boots, a long black double-breasted leather jacket speckled with mud, and a brimmed cap with the death-head totem.

Rauff’s eyes fixed on the priest, and he almost smiled as he climbed out.

“Is it always this difficult to reach you, Father Re?” the Gestapo colonel asked.

“In the spring it can be trying,” the priest said. “You know me, but I—”

“Standartenführer Walter Rauff,” Rauff said as two lorries came to a stop behind him. “Chief of Gestapo, Milan.”

“You’ve come a long way, Colonel,” Father Re said.

“We hear rumors about you, Father, even in Milan.”

“Rumors about me? From who? About what?”

“Do you remember a seminarian? Giovanni Barbareschi? Worked for Cardinal Schuster, and, it seems, you?”

“Barbareschi served here briefly,” Father Re said. “What about him?”

“We arrested him last week,” Rauff said. “He’s in San Vittore Prison.”

Pino suppressed a shudder. San Vittore Prison had been a notorious and terrible place in Milan long before the Nazis took it over.

“On what charges?” Father Re asked.

“Forgery,” Rauff said. “He makes fake documents. He’s good at it.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Father Re said. “Barbareschi led hikes here and helped in the kitchen.”

The Gestapo chief seemed amused again. “We have ears everywhere, you know, Father. The Gestapo is like God. We hear all things.”

Father Re stiffened. “Whatever you may think, Colonel, you are not like God, though you were made in his loving image.”

Rauff took a step closer, gazed icily into the priest’s eyes, and said, “Make no mistake, Father, I can be your savior, or your condemner.”

“It still doesn’t make you God,” Father Re said, showing no fear.

The Gestapo chief held his gaze a long moment, and then turned to one of his officers. “Fan out, search every centimeter of this plateau. I will look here.”

Soldiers began jumping out of the lorries.

“What are you looking for, Colonel?” Father Re asked. “Maybe I can help you.”

“Do you hide Jews, Father?” Rauff asked curtly. “Do you help them get to Switzerland?”

Pino tasted acid at the back of his throat and felt his knees go wobbly.

Rauff knows, Pino thought in a panic. We’re all going to die!

Father Re said, “Colonel, I adhere to the Catholic belief that anyone in harm’s way should be shown love and offered sanctuary. It’s also the way of the Alps. A climber always helps someone in need. Italian. Swiss. German. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Rauff seemed bemused again. “Are you helping anyone today, Father?”

“Just you, Colonel.”

Pino swallowed hard, trying not to tremble. How do they know? His mind searched for answers. Has Barbareschi talked? No. No, Pino couldn’t see it. But how—?

“Be of help, then, Father,” the Gestapo chief said. “Show me around your school. I want to see every bit of it.”

“I’d be glad to,” the priest said, and stood aside.

Colonel Rauff came up on the porch, kicked his boots free of mud and snow, and drew a Luger pistol.

“What’s that for?” Father Re said.

“Swift punishment for the wicked,” Rauff said, and stepped into the hallway.

Pino hadn’t expected him to come inside, and he was flustered when the Gestapo chief looked at him hard.

“I know you,” Rauff said. “I never forget a face.”

Pino stammered, “In my aunt and uncle’s leather store in San Babila?”

The colonel cocked his head, still studying him. “What’s your name?”

“Giuseppe Lella,” he said. “My uncle is Albert Albanese. His wife, my aunt Greta, is Austrian. You spoke to her, I believe. I used to work there sometimes.”

“Yes,” Rauff said. “That’s right. Why are you here?”

“My father sent me to escape the bombs and to study, like all the boys here.”

“Ahh,” Rauff said, hesitated, and then moved on.

Father Re’s face was set hard when he glanced at Pino and fell in behind the Gestapo chief, who stopped at the wide entrance to the empty eating hall.

Rauff looked around. “A clean place, Father. I like that. Where are the other boys? How many are here these days?”