Edwin Balmer

Edwin Balmer

Summary

Portrait of Edwin Balmer Edwin Balmer The White Bead (1913)

She was flung upon his neck and clung, not to be thrown, so that she did not see who was the rider who passed. She made out only that he was passing the others, striking their horses as he reached them, and driving them in rout down the valley. But the other man stayed behind, for, following the single shot, a volley, a rippling, irregular cracking of rifles, ripped and ripped and ripped sharply, clearly, in the still air, and as she looked back, the horse lay dead, already motionless, in the middle of the trail—a bay horse—Jim's horse—under him his rider.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edwin Balmer Edwin Balmer The White Bead (1913)

THE old people were still asleep on the floor. No one of them stirred as she crept within, but she could not compose herself to lie down. The moon, hung high over the valley, silvering it all with its shimmering light, emphasized the rugged, impassable sheerness of the rocks on both sides—the impossibility of fighting a way out.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edwin Balmer Edwin Balmer The White Bead (1913)

Kirk stared away from her.
"Isn't it better for one to go back, even if he isn't drawn, than for four to be shot?"
"Hush!" she stopped him. "He can hear you."
Reilly came to the door, disheveled. "I did hear you," he said quickly. He looked at Kirk. "I won't force you to go back." He stood a moment, looking vacantly up the moonlit valley. He turned back to the others. "It's not midnight yet. But we can go on, can't we, Kirk?" he asked quietly.
Kirk nodded. Jim went into the hut. After an instant Alice started back to wake up the older people.
Source: Wikisource

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