RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8380, 14 March 1907, Page 2

RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL.

A KOMAUCE OF THE BAN FRANCISCO DISASTER,

2 CHAPTER XII. - Continued

In that hour of chaos and confusion there was none to question the strong man's right to bear his victim from the house. There were others, who still kept their heads, assisting the maimed and injured to places of safety. Had those others time or thought for question, their curiosity could have been easily parried. But every refugee was intensely occupied with his own immediate affairs. Blinded and choked by the dust, Berdyne peered toward the curb. But, one vehicle remained there, and tha : was the automobile. Near it he saw a figure, but whether it was Trenwyck or Gorsline he could not tell from that distance. As he pushed forward, another form raced out of the] whitish-yellow pall toward the man by the automobile. "I want that automobile!" shouted the distracted voice of the man who had rushed to the Red Flier; "my wife is injured, perhaps dying! I must take her away to some place where she can have medical attention:" "You can't have the cal*, see!" returned the surly voicie of Gorsline. "It beloners to a cove as iest went in th& house, and I'm keeoin' it for him." / "I will have it! It is a matter of life and death!" There was a rush, a quick and cruel impact of blows, and the man who was doing his utmost for the woman who 'was dear to him was stricken in a senseless heap to the pavement. Berdyne had heard the altercation, and was close at hand, when Gorsline used his merciless ... , EtjMAjttj) IIStS. "It's'an earthquake!" cried (Berdyne, turning his evil gaze upon Gorsline, "the biggest 'Frisco ever had! The town is wrecked!" "It came in a good time for me!" exulted the villainous Berdyne. "Where's the hack?" "The cabby hiked away like he was shot when the shake commenced." "Where's Trenwyck?" "He was scared out of his wits, and ran as if the fiend was after him!"

Berdyne cursed under his breath. "Well," he cried, "get,into the car, and help me. -We must get out of this# and make for Sausalito." "Not I—not on your life! The pickin* will be too good." The ghoulish spirit had. already taken hold of the depraved soul of Dave Gorsline. Berdyne laid Beryl on the front seat, of the automobile, then reached ' for his revolver with the intention of driving Gorsline into the car at it 3 point—but the weapon j had been lost. Abandoning: the hope of taking Gorsline* with him, Berdyne jumped into the car; and, as he switched on the power, a look behind showed his accomplice leaning over the prostrate form on the walk, rifling it of valuables. The street was fissured and gashed, arid in places seemed almost impassable by heaps of debris. Berdyne was eager for speed, butj could only pick his way along at a snail's pace. Again and again he was all but stopped by frenzied men and women, clad in their nightclothes, or such articles as they could catch up in their hurried flight, beseeching him to take them in and carry them to some point' of safety. Every request of this kind he refused with brutal oaths. 1

At the first cross-street he turned south, with the vague idea of gaining Market Street and the ferry. He had a chartered yacht riding in the waters off Sausalito, but the comprehensiveness of the disaster to the city, which impressed him more and more'as he proceeded, filled him with despair of ever reaching the boat. If he could get across the bay to Oakland,, or to Alameda, or to Berkeley, hie felt that his crafty brain could find ways and means of keeping his lovely prisoner safe. Suddenly, from somewhere, a policeman darted in front of the car. "Stop?" he called, raising his club.

"What do you want?" demanded Berdyne, leaning forward and peering with determined eyes into the officer's face. - •• "I want that automobile," was the sharp rejoinder. "Every car is being impressed to take prisonersfrom the Hall of Justice to the Presido, where they can be guarded by the military. Get out quickly; I must have the machine." £ "I am taking my wife to the hospital," shouted Berdyne, "and neither you, nor all the officers in the city, can take this car from me." The officer saw the pallid, beautiful face of Beryl lying unconscious against the back of the cushion seat. Whatever sentiment lurked in his heart will never be known, but he stepped aside, .and permitted the vehicle to pass. "The Mechanics' Pavilion is to be turned into a hospital," said he, "and perhaps you had (better go there. Most of the city is in ruins." With a low, crafty laugh, Berdyne turned on the speed, and sent the car ahead. - "Luck is with me this day" he gloated; "Preston is dead, and the beautiful Beryl Grayson is in my power! On! on to Oakland, or Alameda, or the Bferkeley Hills! There we shall find refuge, and there my love shall finally win the day." Another automobile, loaded with men, women and children, swept by him. ''Where are you going?" some one yelled to him. "To the ferry," he answered back. "Useless!" came the tay. "The boats are not running! Fires are starting everywhere, and the watermains are bursting! If you would save yourself, take the San Bruno i Road, and go south!" The other car dashed on through] the' tumult, and clamor that cam ei from all sides and swept over the

By Julia Eslwards,, Author of "The Little TF idow," "Sadia, the Rosebud," "Prettiest oj All, "Stella Sterling"Laura. Bravton,'' cU'..

| fated city like a requiem for the lost. I Dismay gripped its strangling I fingers about Berdyne'rf throat. He I had first set his heart on Sausalito; j then on the Berkeley Hills; now he j was thinking' of the houseboat in | Belvedere Cove. Would it be posj sible to reach the water-front and | hire a launch. I Unlike most in that dazed and stupified throng of refugees, Berdyne had plenty, of ready money in his pockets. Money would secure a boat; money would do anything! He turned into another street, and started eastward, toward San Francisco Bay and the wharves. Abruptly he heard a cry, and became sensible of a movement beside 'him. He looked, and there sat Beryl, erect, conscious, with a blank, bewildered look in her' great voilet eyes. Through all that had passed since-leaving the minister's she had been as one dead; now her senses were struggling to shake off the numbing effects of what had gone before, and to realise where she was and what was happening. Fitting links v into tho dread chain of events was a slow and alnrj&t fruitless task. She was like ojj<j stricken. But; the handsome, leering face of Berdyne, gloating her as she sat beside him, struck terror to her soul and'brought her realisation, in part. She nought to leap from the car, but . tme of his heavy hands stayed Vier. She fought for release like a man woman, but was like a child in his grasp. " Help! help!" she screamed. Strange that among all that clamour of distress her one, small voice should find ears. Yet so it chanced. A strong man, his face calm in the midst of all that excitement, hastened toward the car. Berdyne would have given added speed to the machine, had not a heap of bricks barred his wpy and compelled him to turn toward the approaching stranger in order to get around the barrier. "What's the matter here?" demanded the fnan aggressively. "My poor wife!" cried Berdyne, in seeming anguish. "Her ordeal has turned her brain. I am seeking to convey her to some place where : we can find refuge." | "I am not his wife!" screamed I Beryl. ".He is a monster, a fiend. ! Oh, save me, save me!" | She stretched out her little hands towards the man, but he shook his head sadly, and drew back, impressed by Berdyne's assumed air and superb acting. "It is sad," said the man. "but only one case among thousands. Make for the crest of Telegraph Hill, my friend; I think you and your poor wife will be safer there than anywhere else." Berdyne thanked him, rounded the heap of bricks,, and glided away. Sick and despairing, Beryl could only eontitue her struggles. She was pitting her feeble strength against"' the physical powers and crafty brain of a fiend. Her soul sickened within her. She begged, she implored, she threatened, but her only answer was a mocking laugh. "I am Mrs Preston!" she cried in her desperation. " You will be called to sore account for this, Nicholas Berdyne!", "I do not believe it," he said tauntingly. "Yet, even so, you are Neil Preston's widow. Did you not see him struck down before you? You are mine, my ravishing little beauty! The earthquake has given you to me; and I shall keep you in spite of fate—in spite of Heaven itself!" The mockery of the words must have drawn down the wrath of powers above. At that instant some one—some one with the mercy to think of others in that dreadful time —called out: "The live wires! Look oUt for the live wires!" But it was too late. A tangling wire struck against the front of the automobile, hissing, spluttering, and sending out sharp, bluish flames. Berdyne shut off the power and applied the brakes, using one hand, and still keeping tight hold of Beryl with the other. Suddenly his grip relaxed, all his great strength going from him in a flash. Drooping like a broken reed, he tumbled head first from the car into the littered road. Beryl, her lips moving voicelessly to frame the prayer that welled up from her heart, leaped out of the other side of the car. A few minutes later, Berdyne, who had been merely stunned, got unsteadily to his feet in the roadway. Beryl had vanished, and the Red Flier, seized by some of the frightened refugees who had found it ! standing, idle, was gliding out of sight. Recovering himself quickly, and lashed to fury by the mishap, Berdyne rushed blindly along the street, seeking the fair unfortunate girl who had escaped from him. (To be Continued).