The Temple on the Hill [antikvár]

PROLOGUE In a poplar-girt Vallach village of Transylvania there lived once upon a time a boy whose world was a large green meadow full of daisies. There was a brook at one end of the meadow, bordered with nettles, and purple gladiolus, and raspberry bushes that hung over the sides. And at the other end there was a deep, black ditch skirted with sun-flowers. A gleaming silver spire—the spire of the church —rose in the distance above the large yellow heads of the flowers; and beyond it, just where the sun went down, the blue hills drew a line that rose and fell, and rose and fell, yet changed not, during the days nor the years. And there were geese in the meadow, that went down to the brook and flapped their wings till the silver drops flew. And there were large, furtive water-rats that climbed up and down the bank and looked out from under the nettles with grave, mysterious eyes. And there where the water was deepest there a i