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Chapter 3: Bibelgesellschaft

June 1634


A couple days after they returned home, Neustatter sent Hjalmar to the high school to gather information about one of the upcoming missions.

Astrid waited until the men had left. “Why are we investigating our clients? Do you not trust them?”

“I want to know what the other students at the high school think of this Bibelgesellschaft. Who thinks well of them and who does not will tell us a lot.”

Hjalmar spent the better part of a couple days at the high school. On the third day, he gave his report to Neustatter and Astrid.

“The Bibelgesellschaft is complicated,” he began. “It is actually students—Lutheran, Catholic, and Anabaptist—with the Catholic priest Athanasius Kircher and the up-time pastor Albert Green as their advisors. I actually found a couple papers members wrote.” He handed those to us. “They’re available for purchase in the library, just like any other research paper. I figured it was worth the money.”

Neustatter nodded absently. He skimmed one paper, while Astrid skimmed the other. Her English was steadily improving. She recognized canon, but textual criticism meant nothing to her.

“So, they are trying to find the original text of Scripture,” Neustatter drawled. “Less Indiana Jones, lots more painstaking research.”

Astrid nodded in agreement. From what she had been able to understand, that seemed a good summary.

“What is strange,” Hjalmar continued, “is that there are at least two, and maybe more, beliefs about this that have nothing to do with Lutheran, Catholic, Calvinist, and so on. That seems to be how they all get along well enough to keep working together.”

“What do you mean?” Astrid asked.

“If their chief differences were Lutheran, Catholic, and Calvinist, they would get caught up on the larger arguments. They have their own disagreements that almost no one else understands. So there is no outside pressure against them working together.”

“Did you find any problems?” Neustatter asked.

“Besides escorting Catholics and Anabaptists to the University of Jena? Nein. Oh—I did find one problem for them, but not for us. Some of them are not able to travel to Jena. I think their parents will not allow it.”

Neustatter shrugged. “Based on what I found out about the riot at the Rudolstadt Colloquy last year, that does not seem unreasonable to me.”


Friday, June 9, 1634


Neustatter and Hjalmar were waiting in the office when a knock sounded at the door. It swung open, and a man in black clerical robes stepped in, closely followed by a young man in his teens. A girl about the same age followed. Pastor Al Green brought up the rear.

Astrid rose from behind the desk, and Neustatter and Hjalmar both stood. Astrid saw the girl was eyeing Neustatter’s gun belt.

“Guten Morgen, Magister Kircher, Magister Green.” Neustatter considered the young people for a moment. “And Master Felke and Miss Meisnerin, if I’m not mistaken.” He shook hands with all of them. “I am Edgar Neustatter. I will be commanding your escort today.”

Neustatter was speaking English with an Austrian accent. He had been playing with it ever since seeing Terminator 2.

“I don’t recall mentioning the names of any of the students,” Al Green commented.

“You did not,” Neustatter confirmed. He switched back to German. “I am training my men in investigation. I sent one of my team leaders to Grantville High.” He gestured toward my brother. “May I introduce Hjalmar Schaub? I assure you, he is older than he looks. Hjalmar has been in the field just as long as I have, since 1626.”

Miss Meisnerin and Pastor Green exchanged glances. They both looked unsettled at Neustatter’s words.

“I apologize for seeming to investigate you,” Neustatter said smoothly, “but sometimes my clients are not aware of something that affects their safety. As a security consultant, I dislike surprises.”

“Did we surprise you with any safety concerns?” Athanasius Kircher asked. The Jesuit scholar hadn’t blinked an eye at Neustatter’s explanation.

Neustatter gave them a wry grin. “I have learned more about church politics than I ever wanted to know. I understand enough to know that your BGS would like to find the most accurate Greek Bible so that you can make better translations.”

Neustatter was still speaking. Astrid wondered if any of their clients had noticed that the Austrian accent had vanished as soon as he got down to business.

“I also understand that collaboration between people from several different churches alarms the more extreme members of all of those churches. Which is why you came to us, ja? Hjalmar, would you assemble your team out front?”

After he left, Neustatter gestured toward Astrid. “May I introduce Miss Astrid Schäubin. Miss Meisnerin, you and Miss Kellarmännin will be her principals.”

Katharina shot Neustatter a surprised look and examined Miss Schäubin. Astrid’s long, blonde hair was swept forward over one shoulder and curled inward at the ends. Her blouse was the latest Grantville fashion, a more or less up-time style made of heavier down-time fabric. She wore full-length riding skorts, leather boots, and a gun belt, although hers was the neat black polizei type, not a gunfighter’s rig like Neustatter’s.

Neustatter was very perceptive. “She is quite good.” He didn’t sound offended.

“I am sorry, Miss Schäubin,” Katharina apologized. “I have never met a lady soldier before.”

Astrid returned the observation. “I have never met a lady theologian before.”

Katharina smiled. “Fair enough. But that is not really what I am.”

“Me, either. As Herr Neustatter said, you and Miss Kellarmännin are my principals.”

“Does it bother the men?” Katharina blurted out. “That you are a bodyguard?”

“Sometimes. It worries my brother, and some of the men have their doubts.”

“Me, too. Being in the Bibelgesellschaft, I mean. Some people do not take us seriously. Come meet Barbara. She is outside.”

The two of them left, still comparing notes in being a woman in what was usually a man’s profession.

Once outside, they saw that the rest of the Bibelgesellschaft members who were going to Jena had arrived.

“Barbara!” Katharina called. “This is Miss Astrid Schäubin. She is our bodyguard.”

“Miss Kellarmännin,” Astrid said.

Barbara giggled. “I am not anyone important. Only teachers call me Fräulein. I am Barbara.”

“And I am Katharina,” Miss Meisnerin put in.

“Then you must call me Astrid.” She smiled at the two of them.

“I do not think I have met anyone named Astrid before,” Barbara said.

“It is Danish. My family settled in Holstein long ago. We lived there before the men went off to war.”

“Did you go with them?”

“No, after they first came to Grantville they came back and got their families. We all came to Grantville then.”

Katharina and Barbara seemed to expect more, but that was everything Astrid intended to say on the matter.

Hjalmar reappeared with Karl and Otto, and Neustatter introduced them. Father Kircher introduced the other Bibelgesellschaft members.

Katharina’s brother Georg had loaded everyone’s baggage already, so they climbed aboard the wagon. Kircher and Green seated themselves on the bench next to Georg, while the students sat on the benches along the sides of the wagon. Katharina was right behind Georg with Barbara next to her and then Markus Fratscher and Guenther Kempf. Horst Felke, Johann Speiss, and Mattheus Beimler were across from them on the right side. Astrid knew the Meisners and Barbara were Anabaptists, and Horst Felke was Catholic. She was a little hazy about the others, but the two next to Horst were probably the other Catholics. The one with dark hair—Johann—wanted to be a priest, and Mattheus was sort of a protégé of Athanasius Kircher. That meant the other two were the Lutherans. She thought Guenther was the one in the Young Crown Loyalists, the youth wing of the political party that wanted less sweeping changes to society than did the Fourth of July Party. That made Markus the one who wanted to attend the University of Wittenberg. On the one hand, it was a little unsettling how much information Hjalmar had been able to learn, just by asking around at the high school. On the other, it meant that the students generally did not have deep, dark secrets and did not hide their ambitions from students of other creeds. She supposed on the whole that was reassuring.

The NESS agents were riding horses today. Hjalmar and Neustatter were out in front of the wagon while Karl, Otto, and Astrid followed it. Traffic was heavy enough that right now flanking guards would just get in the way.

The wagon rolled steadily along. Occasionally it slowed. Astrid realized that Georg Meisner was a skilled teamster who planned ahead for what might happen so that he rarely had to bring the horses to a complete halt. Plus, he did not seem to have any problem letting his sister take the lead on the Bibelgesellschaft.

So, when the wagon slowed at the base of the hill leading up out of the Ring of Fire, Astrid wondered why. Any momentum the wagon had would be useful. Then she saw the men blocking the road.

Neustatter and Hjalmar had already turned around. Hjalmar spurred to a gallop as soon as he reached level ground. Neustatter’s horse ambled back to the wagon, giving every sign of being bored.

“It seems there will be a slight delay,” Neustatter drawled.

“Who are those men?” Horst Felke demanded. “They have no right to block the road!”

“I believe I mentioned extreme factions in each of the churches,” Neustatter reminded him.

“But we’ve accounted for everyone. Catholic, Lutheran, Methodist, Disciples of Christ, Church of Christ, Baptist, and Anabaptist,” Green protested.

“Ah, but if I’m not mistaken, Master Fratscher and Master Kempf are from Pastor Kastenmeyer’s Lutherans. The men in the road are from Pastor Holz’s Lutheran church. That is the church my men and I belong to as well.”

Astrid saw Katharina tense, but got diverted by Pastor Green’s question.

“Did you know about this, Neustatter?”

“I had my suspicions,” Neustatter acknowledged. “I suspect that Pastor Holz assumes he can block the road because the place he is doing it is outside the Ring of Fire. He might think it is outside Chief Richards’ jurisdiction.”

“It seems Holz has outthought us,” Kircher said.

“Not entirely,” Neustatter said. “I sent Hjalmar to find an SoTF marshal. This is within the marshals’ jurisdiction.”

Katharina’s jaw dropped.

Neustatter noticed, of course. “Don’t worry, Miss Meisnerin,” he said. “I will get you to Jena.”

“I suppose we ought to see what they want,” Pastor Green said. “Georg, keep hold of the reins.”

Kircher climbed down from the wagon to let Green out. Some of the men in the road started shouting at them as soon as they realized Kircher was wearing his clerical robes.

Neustatter turned to one of his men. “Karl!” The two of them spurred forward on either side of Green and Kircher.

“If you gentlemen are almost done with the road, we would like to pass through to Jena,” Green said mildly.

“You heretics will not be going to Jena.”

“Why is that?” Neustatter demanded.

“Because they are heretics, Neustatter,” Pastor Pancratz Holz explained. “They want to change the Bible.”

“What I gather, Pastor,” Neustatter drawled, “is they’re wanting the University of Jena’s help in finding old Bibles.”

“They are trying to change the Scripture! I have read their books. They questioned everything about the Bible uptime!”

“No, we’re not!” Al Green burst out. “I’m no liberal! And I’m not a higher critic, either.” He proceeded to call the wrath of God down on a couple individuals named Graf and Wellhausen and then loudly pointed out that the Bibelgesellschaft had freedom of assembly, and if they wanted to assemble in Jena, they would, thank you very much. Pastor Pancratz Holz retorted that his congregation also had freedom of assembly, and if they wanted to assemble on the road to Jena, they would, thank you very much.

Astrid heard Katharina ask her brother, “What’s happening?”

“The Lutheran pastor is shouting,” Georg reported. “And Pastor Green is shouting back. And they all look confused and angry.” He sighed. “And now the Lutherans are shouting again.”

Someone in the crowd threw a rock. Astrid did not know why anyone would think that was a good idea.

Neustatter immediately sent his horse plunging into the crowd, who scattered in all directions. Neustatter wheeled the horse around and pursued a couple who hadn’t scrambled quite far enough for his liking. Karl circled in the opposite direction, opening a gap.

“Take the wagon forward!” Astrid shouted to Georg.

Georg glanced between her, the disturbance ahead, and Katharina. Then he flicked the reins.

“Is it safe?” Katharina asked.

Astrid brought her horse alongside the wagon. “I’ll watch this side. Otto will watch the other side. Keep moving.”

Georg looked rather startled but complied. When he reached Kircher and Green, he slowed not quite to a complete stop, and the two clerics scrambled onto the wagon.

“Holz is rallying his men,” Kircher pointed out.

Sure enough, the mob was coming back together further ahead, minus a handful of men whom Neustatter and Karl had driven far to the side of the road. Neustatter turned back toward the road and nudged his horse to a canter. A couple seconds later, Karl did the same.

Astrid wished her pastor weren’t trying to forcibly prevent her clients from traveling to Jena. Pastor Holz did have a point—their clients were mostly heretics—Catholics and Anabaptists. On the other hand, their clients had a point, too—they were bound for a Lutheran university to present their case as to why denominations that disagreed with each other should work together to examine and preserve ancient copies of the Scriptures.

One man pitched a stone at Neustatter as he cantered toward the men who had reformed to block the wagon again. It went wide. Neustatter kept going. Astrid saw the men edging backwards, and then the crowd broke. Neustatter and Karl scattered them again.

Georg kept the wagon rumbling steadily forward. Holz was determined, but he and his men had to scramble to block the road a third time. Neustatter and Karl were able to keep them away from the wagon. They were growing more and more frustrated but fortunately there wasn’t much available to throw at the horsemen.

One man made a run at the wagon, and Neustatter wheeled his horse around to head him off. Twenty yards from the wagon he lashed out with a boot and sent the man sprawling. Neustatter gestured at Astrid to take it from there while he turned back toward Holz—just in time to find another man making a break toward the wagon. He stopped that one, too. The third one was on his way in when everyone heard a siren.

A Grantville Police Department cruiser rolled up behind the wagon. One officer got out but the driver stayed in the vehicle.

“This isn’t Grantville!” Holz shouted. “You have no jurisdiction here!”

The officer passed the wagon. “Brother Green. Father Kircher.”

“He’s not Grantville police,” Georg observed.

“That’s Marshal Thomas. The marshals work throughout Thuringia-Franconia,” Astrid told him.

Up ahead, Marshal Harley Thomas was explaining that fact to Pancratz Holz.

“You cannot give orders here! This is Schwarzburg!”

“No, this is part of West Virginia County. But I’m a SoTF marshal. We have jurisdiction throughout the entire state, including Schwarzburg. Pastor Holz, it’s illegal to interfere with other people’s right to assemble peaceably.”

“But it won’t be peaceably! They’re going to Jena to try to destroy the Scriptures!”

Harley Thomas sighed. It looked like it could be a long morning.

“There’s only one of you.”

The marshal stepped up in Holz’s face. “Yeah. But it looks like you only brought one riot with you, Holz. So get out of the way. Now.”

The situation wasn’t improved by Neustatter laughing out loud at that point. But Holz very grudgingly got his men out of the road.

They did make a few threats as the wagon rolled by.

“Any Lutheran who consorts with you heretics is risking excommunication!”

Green looked over his shoulder and said, “I’ll be sure to warn Johann Gerhard.”

Astrid was not at all happy with the situation. Neustatter was shaking hands with Marshal Thomas, and it seemed to her that he was the only one who was not obviously upset. Well, Karl did not seem too distressed, either. Otto was frowning, as were Pastor Green and Father Kircher. Katharina and Barbara looked concerned, but it seemed to Astrid that as Katharina looked around, she was doing the same thing Astrid was—assessing their party.

Hjalmar had caught up while Marshal Thomas was dispersing Holz’s men. At Neustatter’s signal, Karl took the lead, and Georg got the wagon moving. Neustatter and Hjalmar were deep in conversation as they rode behind the wagon, so Otto took one side, and Astrid took the other. About ten minutes later, Neustatter rode up beside Astrid.

“Miss Schäubin, I have sent Hjalmar back to Grantville to talk to the other men and their families. And to keep an eye on Pastor Holz. I know he wanted to be along on your second mission, but someone needs to brief Ditmar’s team. The men won’t care. We all had to pretend to be Catholics in Wallenstein’s army. But Stefan and Wolfram’s families have been Lutherans all their lives.”

“We could all just go to St. Martin’s in the Fields,” Astrid pointed out. “It’s Philippist but it would do until the new Flacian church on the Badenburg Road opens.”

Katharina had been listening in. “Excuse me. I haven’t studied much about the Flacian-Philippist dispute, but you obviously have strong feelings about it.”

Neustatter shrugged. “Flacians follow Luther more closely. It pi . . . annoys the Catholics more. Uh, begging your pardon, Father Kircher.”

“Our pastor in Holstein was Flacian,” Astrid added.

“And our pastor in Holstein was Flacian,” Neustatter agreed.

Katharina started to say something, but did not get past, “Um . . . ”

“Yes, of course,” Neustatter agreed. “If Miss Schäubin and the others want to go somewhere else or all go to different churches, that is quite all right. Well, no, it probably is not, but they are allowed to. Miss Meisnerin.” He touched the brim of his hat and rode off to join Karl in front of the wagon.

After Katharina had recovered, she ventured, “Does he do that often?”

“Read your mind?” Astrid asked. “Ja.”

“Does it not bother you?”

“I am the secretary. It is quite helpful, actually.”

* * *

The rest of the journey to Jena was uneventful. They hired rooms at an inn and then walked to the university where they were met by the superintendent Dr. Johann Major. Neustatter and his team stood back while Pastor Green made the introductions.

“I am pleased to meet you, Dr. Green. I really should have seen to that before now. Master Kircher.”

Major was accompanied by a couple students, Hans and Christoph, and within a few minutes, he had neatly split off Green and Kircher to go meet a colleague. Neustatter fell in behind them.

That left Karl, Otto, and Astrid with the students. Katharina, Barbara, and Astrid quickly became the center of attention.

“Are you from St. Martin’s?”

“No.”

Astrid could tell Katharina was concerned about where the conversation was going. Barbara was hanging back a little bit, observing.

“Flacian, then.”

“No.”

“Then?”

“You know the Bibelgesellschaft contains students from several denominations?”

“Yes.”

“I am Anabaptist.”

Christoph deflated. Hans turned to Barbara. “And you?”

“Anabaptist.”

He looked to Astrid. “And you are?”

“Armed.” She patted her holster.

“You are . . . you are . . . ” Christoph stammered.

“A mercenary,” Hans finished.

“I work for Neustatter’s European Security Services. So does Karl over there.” Astrid saw no reason to draw attention to Otto.

Heads swiveled. “Well, yes, obviously,” Christoph agreed. “But bodyguards? Here?”

“There was an anti-Catholic riot here last year,” Astrid reminded them. “Go ahead. I will watch the flank.”

They got the grand tour of the University of Jena, ending up at a display of books.

“Alchemia?” Georg asked.

“By Andreas Libavius. He was a student here in the arts and medical curricula,” Christoph explained. “He died in 1616. But it is the first systematic chemistry book. These are all books by university faculty or students.”

Katharina was reading the titles. Methodus tractandarum controversiarum theologicarum.

“That’s one of Dr Himmel’s books. And Passionale Academicum, right next to it.”

There was one in English. Sixe Bookes of Politickes or Civil Doctrine, Done into English by William Jones.

“Oh, Justus Lipsius wrote that one. He was a professor here for a while. He converted from Catholicism. Then when he got hired at Leiden he converted to Calvinism. They say he was really a Stoic all along. But a lot of influential men speak well of these books—Richelieu, Olivares, Maximilian.”

“Perhaps those are not the best possible endorsements,” Guenther remarked.

“And these?” Katharina asked.

“Loci communes theologici and Meditationes sacrae are Dr. Gerhard’s books,” Markus answered. “Some of us are Lutheran.”

“And this is a draft of the first section of Confessio Catholica,” Christoph announced proudly. “Dr. Gerhard is demonstrating the catholicness of the Augsburg Confession from Catholic sources.”

“Oh, please,” Johann Speiss protested. Mattheus just rolled his eyes.

“A draft?” Katharina put in quickly.

“Yes. He has just started it. It probably will not be published for a few years. The book display is to show some visiting students. They are here from Latin schools and from some other universities. It’s some sort of up-time idea. They call it ‘recruiting.’ As if a university were an army.”

As if on cue, a number of other students entered the hall. Introductions were made all around, and shoptalk broke out. Katharina edged back out of the crowd and tried to locate Barbara but found herself talking to a student from the University of Erfurt.

They shook hands. “Johannes Musaeus.”

“Katharina Meisnerin.”

“You are . . . ”

“Not a student here, nein. I am with the Bibelgesellschaft in Grantville.”

After the tour, they rejoined Kircher and Green. The Bibelgesellschaft had a couple hours on their own before a formal dinner with the theology faculty. Astrid listened to Katharina and hoped she could remember everyone’s name. Apparently, the important faculty members were the three Johanns: Johann Gerhard, considered the number three Lutheran theologian ever, after Luther and Chemnitz; Johann Major, the superintendent who had welcomed them; and Johann Himmel, who had written a couple of the books on the display table.

During the dinner, the NESS agents “held up the wall,” as Neustatter put it. That was fine with Astrid. It meant she did not have to demonstrate whether she actually remembered everyone’s name.

After the dinner, the BGS went back to the inn. Neustatter and his team fell in around them as they left the building.

“You didn’t get to eat!” Katharina realized.

“We will eat at the inn,” Astrid said.

“That is not fair.”

“I would rather be able to just eat than worry about etiquette and professors. What did you have?”

Katharina recited high-class but quite traditional fare.

Astrid smiled. “The main reasons we picked this inn are because we trust the innkeeper, and it is safe. It also has a well-deserved reputation for cheap food. But that is okay—I like stew and fries.”

When we reached the inn, most of the BGS elected to stay up for a while. Neustatter pulled Astrid aside.

“Miss Schäubin, you and Otto go ahead and eat.”

“But you . . . ”

“Will eat later. You have first watch.”

Astrid discovered that being on watch was boring. After an hour, she upgraded that to really boring. Finally, a door swung open and Neustatter ambled out, looking ridiculously chipper.

“Guten Morgen, Miss Schäubin.” His eyes twinkled. “Get some sleep.”


Saturday, June 10, 1634


The next day, the NESS agents spent a lot more time holding up the walls. The theologians and students were seated behind tables. Each row was up a bit higher than the one in front, and the floor was sloped like the one in the Grantville High School auditorium.

The theological discussion was a lot more interesting than nighttime guard duty. Or rather, it was not a theological discussion. Pastor Green—Doctor Green was actually the title that mattered here—spoke first, followed by Horst, Katharina, Markus, and Guenther. Doctors Gerhard, Major, and Himmel asked quite a few questions.

At one point, Dr. Himmel asked, “But why should we join with you to do this?”

“We will get more done, faster, if we work together.”

“I don’t think we should work with sectarians and Anabaptists.”

Astrid could see people stiffen.

Then Al Green grinned. “You don’t think we’re saved. Well, fair enough. I’m not entirely convinced about you all, either.”

There were gasps throughout the room, and a couple people sprayed their drinks.

Green’s eyes twinkled. “I think we both have concerns about our brother Athanasius here. And he about us, no doubt. As for me, I’m more than a little concerned that seventeenth-century Lutheranism seems to value adherence to a body of doctrine more than adherence to Christ. And I can only assume that you in turn are quite concerned that I’m not under any ecclesiastical authority outside of my own church’s board of elders.”

“That is, indeed, chief among my concerns,” Gerhard answered.

Astrid sensed that Gerhard was truly concerned but also just a little bit amused. She decided she liked him. Although she would not able to repeat what the up-timers called the technical details, she could tell that the theology faculty’s questions were shifting from if to how. Finally, Dr. Gerhard requested that the University of Jena theology faculty be able to confer amongst themselves.

The NESS team stepped outside with the Bibelgesellschaft. Johannes Musaeus joined them, since he was a guest as well.

Once we were all outside, he spoke first. “That was a good presentation. I was not sure what to expect, but now I hope the faculty works with you.”

“Danke,” Katharina said.

“If they accept, I definitely need to attend here. If you will have me, I would like to join your Bibelgesellschaft.”

“Welcome aboard.” Markus was the first to shake his hand. “We can always use more Lutherans. Flacian, I assume?”

“Ja, definitely.”

They settled down into shop talk. After about an hour, Katharina got up and started pacing. Eventually, Georg joined her.

“Relax, Kat.”

“I cannot. What if they do not want to work with us?”

“I think they will.”

The morning dragged on. Katharina kept pacing. Astrid was pretty sure some of the Bibelgesellschaft were praying. A discussion of whether they should send a few people to get lunch had begun when Dr. Gerhard finally came out. Everyone converged on him.

“One question, bitte,” Gerhard asked. “Magister Kircher, you did not say anything.” The Lutheran theologian studied the Catholic theologian for several seconds. “Rome wants information on the manuscripts, does it not?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Have you been ordered to send it?”

“Yes. Dr. Gerhard, I would much prefer not to race you to the manuscripts. Rome wants the information. I have no directives concerning anyone else having the information as well.”

“But we would have to work with Catholics.”

“And I would have to work with Lutherans.” Kircher grinned. “I am willing to make that sacrifice. But I would very much like to study some Sahidic manuscripts.”

Astrid found herself holding her breath along with everyone else.

“Magister Kircher,” Gerhard said, “I think I would also prefer not to race you to the manuscripts. I might not get as many as I would like.” He glanced at Dr. Green. “You two have made this work so far?”

“Well, we’re both pretty busy,” Dr. Green answered. “It mostly works because the students make it work.”

Dr. Gerhard smiled. “I expect that will continue. Very well, ladies and gentlemen, the University of Jena theology faculty will join the Bibelgesellschaft.”

The students erupted in cheers. Katharina hugged Georg and then sought out Horst and extended her hand. Horst had a big grin on his face as they shook hands.

“If all of you would come back inside?” Dr. Gerhard waved Kircher and Green through the door. “We’re going to need some Calvinists. I think we should start with the University of Basel.”


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