Václav Suk, soldier of the emperor’s regiment under Hiller, standing far out in the front guard on the edge of the grassy dale, heard that song. Thick underbrush concealed half his body. Because it was cold he had rolled his gray cape closely up to his three-cornered hat so that not even his braided cue was visible. And now came that song—as if from directly opposite him! Was the enemy so close? How could it be?
Suk liked best a worldly song with his comrades beside the fire or before the booth of some youthful female cantinière, but this time the religious song moved him strangely. His grandmother used to sing it from parlor to bedroom and from chamber to garret, when her loose slippers, pattering, woke the whole household.
Suk took up the song also. The voice opposite ceased for a moment, then sounded anew and the old song was carried on the waves of the gradually lifting fog.
Václav, however, could not stand it long. His curiosity got the better of him. The unknown on the other side of the hollow sang on like a music master and it seemed as if he wished to finish out the stanzas just as Suk’s grandmother used to do.
“Say, you, over there, are you a soldier?”
That is how Suk began the conversation and he did not speak into unanswering mist. He learned that he was talking with a soldier of the Prussian advance guard.
