RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8375, 8 March 1907, Page 2

RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL.

A KOMANOE OF TEE SAN FRANCISCO DISASTER.

CHAPTER VII. j THE FAITHLESS FRIEND. j ""Oh! colder than the wind that freezes Founts, that but now in sunshine 3 placed, l r Is that congealing pang that seizes l The trusting bosom when be- I trayed." j. "You are happy, Beryl?" Mr Jackman came into the sitting- g room where Beryl, her lovely face j. radiant with joy. was moving about, collecting some of the books and keepsakes which she had brought with her from Denver. She had been singing, out of the fulness of her heart, but ■ stopped and turned brightly upon the rancher. "Happy, you ask, Mr Jackman?" she repeated. "Ah, yes! I believe o I am the happiest girl in all the s world! Why should I not be? My S darling has returned to me, and to- i: morrow"—she blushed like the rose t —"to-morrow lamto be his bride." t The rancher was carrying a salver r. containing a pitcher and two glasses, p One of the glasses was filled with a t liquid that sparkled ruby-red to the i: brim. His hands trembled a little as \ he placed salver and its burden on a table. * "Ah, well," said he, with a short, unnatural laugh, ',' love is a wond- ' rous thing. What some men wilt do c for it is past all understanding." There was a quiver in the rancher's i strong voice, and he seemed even - more ill at ease than when he had met Beryl and Neil on the verandah ' a few hours before. But, Beryl, so completely wrapped up in her own i happiness, paid little heed to these ' visible signs of a strange mood in Mr ; Jackman. « " 'True love is at home on a carpet, And mightily likes his ease, And true love has an eye for a dinner, And starves beneath shady trees. His wing is the fan of a lady, His foot's an invisible thing, And his arrow is tipped with a jewel, And shot from a silver string.' " So sang Beryl's sweet young voice, mirroring her lightsome mood. The last word glided off into a laugh, musical as the waters of a brook. "Are you going to miss the melancholy little girl that has been your guest for so long, Mr Jackman?" she archly asked, sinking into a chair. , "More than I can tell," said he, his eyes wandering under the look she gave him. "Will Mother Jackman be back before I leave, do you think?" "I hope not," said he, absently. "You hope not?" she repeated, with a bewildered smile. "I mean," he answered confusedly,' *"that I hope you will not leave before she comes. I have come to drink to your happiness in a glass of homemade wine," he went on. "I know you do not care for* wine, Beryl, but on this, occasion, and since I have drawn it' with my own hands from my choicest store, you will not refuse, a glass with me?" ' Mr Jackman was English; and whenever he wished to celebrate he must do it with a glass of wine from the small vineyard on the estate. Beryl felt that she could not refuse the slight request. "It will be my first glass of wine, Mr Jackman," said she; "but since you have gone to the trouble to get it, I shall not be disobliging." He brought her the filled glass, then poured another for himself. His hand was unsteady, and he spilled some of the pitcher's contents on the salver. "Will you give me a toast?" cried Beryl, raising her glass and peering at him with her dancing eyes. "If your future holds a trace of disappointment," said the grizzled rancher, "may seeming misfortune turn out a blessing in disguise." ! It was a queer sentiment and queerly spoken; but the glasses tinkled together, and passed to the ■waiting lips. The rancher swallowed 'his wine at * ( gulp. Beryl drank only half of hers, then set the glass back on the salver. "I shall never forget your kindness to me, Mr Jackman," said she. "Don't speak of it !" exclaimed the rancher, almost harshly. "A girl has so few trifles that men care for," she went on, "that I have nothing to leave with you in the way of a keepsake, but I shall certainly send you a little remembrance from San Francisco." "Don't bother" about me, Beryl," he huskily murmured. "Oh, but I she declared, with girlish insistence. "This little gold cross," she went on, untying a bit of ribbon that held the trinket against her white throat, ' 'used to be my mother's. I am going to leave it for Mother Jackman. She will prize it for my sake, I know." She stepped over to the rancher, and pressed the cross intp his hand. His face was like stone, and his eyes, although fixed upon her, did not seem to see her at all. "Strange," she murmured, picking up an armful of books and pictures, "but I feel dizzy and sleepy. I believe I will go to my room for awhile, and lie down before I finish packing." Thereupon she passed out of the apartment, and Jackman could hear her,,little feet climbing the stairs. Trenwyck came in from an adjacent room." /'Did she drink it?" he whispered. "Yes," answered the rancher drearily; "she did not suspect me, because she thinks I am her friend. Trenwyck, that little girl is as pure and innocent as she is beautiful. God help me for this day's work!" "Why; maii," murmured the lawyer, clapping him on the back, "it's the best day's work you ever your life. You have saved your

By MM Edwards, Author of "The Little Widow," "Sailia, the Rosebud," '-Prettiest of All," "Stella Sterling," "Laurx llrai/toii." etc.

■anch, and Berdyne will be your ,'riend for all time." "I have bought my place for a dear jrice, if my conscience is to pay for t," growled Jackman; "and as for Berdyne, I want none of his friendship or yours. I have agreed to help roa in tHis contemptible business in irder to keep a roof ovei' ( my head, md you may count on me 'to do my >art as well as I may." Tremvyck drew back and surveyed lim with a basilisk smile. "Go up-stairs and lock her door," aid he coollv, "then give me the :ev." " • CHAPTER VIII. OUT OF THE SNARE. Neil Preston returned at the edge f evening. A comfortable twoeated carriage brought him back to unset Ranch, and a hired driver sat [i front and held the reins over he spirited horses. Hurrying up 0 the front door of the ranchiouse, Neil gave the bell an imatient pull. Jackman answered he summons in person, and seemed ntensely surprised on beholding his isitor. ' "Why," he exclaimed, "is it you, ir Preston?" "Certainly," replied Neil briskly. 'You knew I was coming for Beryl, lidn't you?" "But you changed your plans, 'altered Jackman, "and sent a note tt "I sent no note," cried Neil. 'Tell Beryl I am here, and waiting." "But she has gqne," said Jacknan, in well-feigned consternation. 'She left about the middle of the afternoon, bag and baggage, in the carriage you sent for her." Neil was astounded. A clammy band seemed gripping his heart, and 3queezing-.out every drop of blood. "Do not trifle with me," he wildly cried. "I sent Beryl no note, and I sent no carriage after her. It was the understanding that I was to come for her in person." "Can this be possible?" muttered Jackman, seemingly aghast. "Why, 1 found the note on the stairs, where Beryl must have dropped it in her haste. Come in, Mr Preston. This is somethng that must be looked into at once." . Neil staggered, rather than walked, into the lighted room. His handsome face had turned pale under its tan, and his dark eyes were wild with anxiety. Jackman gave him -the note, which ran thus: "My Precious One: I am detained in San Jose. Will you come, without delay, in the carriage I have sent for you? The driver of the carragc will give you this. With love and kisses, in haste, NEIL." "Heaven help myjpoor- Beryl" groaned Neil, dropping the paper and covering his face with his hands. "That is not my handwriting, Jackman, It is a trick of Berdyne's." * Only an instant did he give way to his grief, then he leaped at Jackman and caught his arm asjjin a vise, his eyes fairly gleaming with the fury that ran hot in his veins. "This happened, about the middle of the afternoon, you say?" he demanded.|£3igS^&Sl . ' "And which way did the carriage drive when it left here?" SSSS "Down into the valley, toward town." " Hfi Without ' Neil whirled, dashed from i the house, and ran to his waiting vehicle. g "Back to San Jose, driver!" he cried. "Do not spare the horses! Use your whip, man!" . The startled ([driver turned back along the,tree-lined road, but he had not urged his horses a quarter of a mile Jbefore k cloaked figure leaped out into the highway and a woman's voice called, "Stop!" The horses, frightened 5 at the dusky figure, which had appeared so suddenly in front of them, reared back in the harness. Neil,' who was sitting beside the driver, leaned out over the dashboard. ' "Away!" he cried warningly. "Do not attempt to stop us! An errand/it may be, of life and death calls on us! The whip, driver!" he added. , The woman, however, did not move from the road. 1 "Is it the Senor Neil Preston to whom I am speaking," she asked. r "Yes, yes," he answered. "Who are you? What do you wish?" "I know whom you are seeking," answered the woman, "and I am almost sure that you are on the wrong course. The .welfare of her whom you wish to find is very dear to me, and I beg you, senor, to descend, and grant me a short interview." (To be continued.)