At last, after asking
the way several times, he arrived within a short distance of the
village. The ground had now become undulating, and the slopes were
covered with trees. The village lay up a valley, and it was evident
that the road he was travelling was but little frequented, ending
probably at the village itself. Proceeding for nearly two miles
through a wood he came suddenly upon Glogau.
It stood near the head of the valley, which was here free of
trees, and some cultivated fields lay around it. The houses were
surrounded by fruit trees, and an air of peace and tranquillity
prevailed such as Malcolm had not seen before since he left his
native country. One house was much larger than the rest; several
stacks stood in the rick yard, and the large stables and barns gave
a proof of the prosperity of its owner. The war which had already
devastated a great part of Germany had passed by this secluded
hamlet.
No signs of work were to be seen, the village was as still and
quiet as if it was deserted. Suddenly Malcolm remembered that it
was the Sabbath, which, though always kept strictly by the Scotch
and Swedish soldiers when in camp, for the most part passed unobserved
when they were engaged in active service. Malcolm turned his steps
towards the house; as he neared it he heard the sound of singing
within. The door was open, and he entered and found himself on the
threshold of a large apartment in which some twenty men and twice
as many women and children were standing singing a hymn which was
led by a venerable pastor who stood at the head of the room, with
a powerfully built elderly man, evidently the master of the house,
near him.
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