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The greater my success, the more numerous my employers. I was the slave of a multitude. Could the position of any toiling man be more precarious than mine? I tremble now as I think of it, tremble as I should in watching some one who walked carelessly on the edge of an abyss.
She took the fence at the edge of the clearing and then reined in a moment to look behind her. A mile away she saw the head and shoulders of a horseman above some low bushes the pursuers had found a way through the gully. Turning once more to her flight the girl rode rapidly across the fields toward the wood.
These were laid flatways, with their edges not quite plumb with the outside edge of the wall, and being frozen into place, left an uncovered space about five feet six inches square.
And the long days of effort had terminated in this last agony of disappointment; but now, and almost mercifully, he felt the fruitless struggle was ended. All that remained was the acceptance of an inexorable fate. He drew forward his chair for her, and as she sank wearily into it, he seated himself on the edge of the cot at her side.
But none of them had found what they were looking for.... They had looked in all the difficult places where a clever player would be most likely to conceal himself, yet in vain; there was no definite sign of him, no footprints on the flower-beds or along the edge of the shrubberies. The garden proper had been searched from end to end without result.
"As they came nearer, they saw that the light came from the window of a poor little hut on the edge of a clearing. "They went to the door and knocked. The door was opened by a dirty old woman, who lived in the hut with her husband, who was a farmer. "The boys told the old woman that they had lost their way, and asked her if she could give them a place to sleep.
Six white figures slipped through the remaining bushes, six white figures reached the edge of the river, and then all six slid silently into the water, which received them and enveloped them to the chin. Henry, Seth Cole, and a man named Tom Wilmore bore the three iron pots above their heads, swimming with a single hand.
At the edge of the desert, and close to a few palm-trees, some white huts shimmered in the morning light. "Are those the tabernacles of Light, father?" asked Thais. "Even so, my daughter and my sister. Yonder is the House of Salvation, where I will confine you with my own hands." Soon they saw a number of women busy around the buildings, like bees round their hives.
It usually came in about one o'clock, but that hour and another had passed and yet we watched for the first change. Without a breeze our chances of overhauling the stranger were gone. Only a white speck like the wing of a gull now marked her whereabouts on the edge of the horizon, and in another hour she would be invisible even from the masthead.
He could not resist the desire to lie down upon his breast and edge himself forward till his face was over the edge and he could look right down into the water, which was all in motion, swaying and eddying, foaming round the half-submerged blocks of weed-hung stone, and behaving generally according to its custom as the tide went and came, for these chasms displayed little change, the water being very deep and never leaving any part of the bottom bare.
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