RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL,

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8385, 20 March 1907, Page 2

RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL,

A KOMANOE OF THE SA.N FRANCISCO DISASTEa,

CHAPTER XVl.—Continued. "Fool!" shouted a husky voice. ""You've tipped our bnr.d now, an' spoiled everything for :ill I know. Get out o' here. if you're sober enough. Go an' find Berdyne !" Beryl caught one glimpse of the fierce, lowering visage of Dave Gorsline. The next moment she was seized roughly, and hurled into a chair. CHAPTER XVII. NEIL'S DREAM OF HOPE. , "I stand like one Has lost his way, and no man near • him to inquire it of; Yet there's a providence above, that knows The roads which ill men tread, and can direct Inquiring justice. The passengers that travel In the wide ocean, where no paths are,

Look up, and leave their conduct to a star." . Neil, heart-sick at the workings of fate which had prevented him from finding his lost darling at the ruined rectory, hurried off in the direction indicated by the soldier. Poor, wandering Beryl was somewhere within a few.blocks.of him, but, ah! how helpless he was to go directly to her, or to acquaint her with his presence in that part of the city. Like one demented he raced through one desolated street after another, gazing Jstaringly at all he passed, halting now and again at places where refugees had gathered, to call her name. Only a mocking silence greeted his cries, and at every step pitiless fortune : seemed at war with him. Yet ever and always he kept repeating to himself, with the grimness of despair: "I will find her! I Tvill find her!" ■ . , He seemed to have been made the sport of circumstances. Had he hastened a little faster on his way from the Mechanics' -Pavilion, had he hot been turned aside so many times by/ the soldiers, he would have reached the dismantled house

in Pine Street in time to meet his • 'dear one, to kiss away her tears, 'dispel her wild doubts, and lead .her to safety. How his Spirit "writhed with the thought of what a few minutes had denied him—and "her. Still, "I will find her, I will find her," ho muttered through his tense lips,-and kept relentlessly on. He had scarcely slept since Irma Lee had sought him out, and told him that his sweetheart was at Sunset Ranch. Tuesday had been a day of Jhappiness, of "sorrow, and of unremitting action. Tuesday night unceasing vigilance had been demanded of him in guiding the Red Flier. And now Wednesday—that fateful . Wednesday!—was calling upon him for his keenest faculties, his greatest energy, and he felt endurance failing under the strain. His injury did not claim a single thought. In fact, the wound did not pain him in the least. His only pangs were those at his heart, and a sort of insensate fury because brain -and limbs should rebel at a time when they were needed most. His fruitless search brought him finally opposite a small store which had not yet Vbeen abandoned by its proprietor. He ; had no heart for ~,,fQod,l ?y et.knew that he must eat if he would revive his stmigth, so he filed into the dilapidated shop with others of the famished refugees. || Everything was free. One had but to' help himself from the shelves, taking whatever he could. find. JJ "Hurry!" urged "the proprietor; ;'it won't be long before the fire gets here, and then everything will go up in smoke." The proprietor of that little gro-cery-shop was a rare spirit! He eyen joked as he pointed out the food most suitable, for the homeless and wretched ones to whom he was giving his stock. Somehow, the cheeriness •of the man heartened Neil wonderfully. Neil was but one of thou•sands upon whom misfortune had descended heavily that day! While the grocer's kindliness revived Neil's drooping spirit, the rough-and-ready fare exerted a wholesome influence on his waning strength. When he left the place it was with hope renewed.' He passed among the Orientals who had taken refuge in Portsmouth Square; he even halted for a space beside the very spot at the foot of the Stevenson Memorial from which Beryl had been conducted by Trenwyck. Near him stood' two men, Americans. One was grizzled_and gray, his hands horny and seamed with toil. The other was of fifty, or thereabouts, with a refined and intellectual face. The first carried a •small tool-box, j such as carpenters sometimes use, j and the second held in his hands a Boston bag. ' "I was worth half a million this .morning," said the second, "but it's all gone. Not only that, but my family, is scattered to the four rwinds."^ "So's~ muie >" returned the other. ' "I livedsouth of Market Street, but all I saved was this kit of tools." 1 j They looked at each other and smiled wearily, but hopefully. Then, moved by some. impulse reaching him out of the distant past, the ruined merchant sang in a low tone, but wjith thrilling earnestness: *' We. have worked out our claims, we have spent .our gold, ~ Our barks.are astrand on the bars;' We are battered and old, yet all ' night we behold, • Ontcroppings of gold in the stars. And though few and old, our hearts are bold;

author of "The Little Uidow," "Sadia, tli'e liosehud" "Prdtictt of J11." "Stella Sterling," "Laura Brat/ton," etc.

' ■ Yet oft do we repine " For the days of old, For the days of gold. For the days of Forty-nine. The words reached farther than the singer knew. A tidal wave of feeling ran through every American in that vast crowd of Orientals. Half a hundred voices united in the refrain: "And though few and old, our hearts are bold; Yet oft do we repine For the days of old, For the days of gold, For the days of Forty-nine.." That was the spirit that, even then, while the city was still in the grip of overwhelming beat in the breast of every citizen. Neil was inspired, and took fresh- courage of his despair. Half-an-hour later he was among the refugees on Telegraph Hill, searching for that dear, sweet face which had so suddenly been blotted from his' sight. The unkind fates still held him in thrall, and he roamed fruitlessly from spot to spot. He heard some one say that the Grand Opera House was afire, that wholesale stores in the vicinity of Clay Street were blazing, and that the homes of the poor in the district south of Market Street could not last long. But he gave little heed to such talk, and took only passing notice of the smoke-plumes waving in the sky to the south. His heart was .elsewhere.

chapter xviil "tell me all, or you shall DIE!" Once within the house, Neil could hear voices talking in one of the rooms that opened off the hall. There were two men, but neither had the voice of Berdyne; of that Neil was sure. Closing the door as softly as he had opened it, he stood for a space under the broken transom. As he lingered, trying to decide what he had better do, a fluttering firebrand was blown in at the gap above t!ie spacious doors. He smothered it under his foot, advanced a few steps, and then halted and looked up through the opening. (To be Continued).

Which way should he go? To what point in all that sea of forlorn and drifting humanity, should he carry his search? He felt his helplessness, and clenched his hands, and groaned aloud. "(Heaven help me," he whispered, "Heaven help and direct my wandering steps!" So far, he told himself as he descended the slope of the hill, he had but one thing to be thankful for on his darling's account. She had escaped Berdyne. Fearful as it was for her to be alone at such a time, yet that was a thousandfold better than for her to;be the power of such a man.

He tried to assure himself that Beryl would meet with kindly hearted people, who would shield and cherish her. In his dreary rounds he had encountered so much nobility of soul that he felt his lost one must I fall into the hands of those who would he good: to her. Once more his aimless wanderings carried him to Portsmouth Square, and then and here came his first gleam of hope. His eyes rested on, a form that moved through the' throng with unsteady steps; one glance at the face and he would have leaped upon the form like a tiger, had not a quick thought restrained him. The man he saw was Hartley Trenwyck, the very person who had 'borne Beryl from the ranch-house to the waiting automobile the night before. The night before! Ah, it seemed like years.since the night before! Neil had known. of the lawyer in Denver. His unscrupulous character was no secret. Now he appeared to be. looking for somebody. Who could it be? Intuition counselled patience. Neil drew back and waited, then followed at a distance, hoping the lawyer would lead him to that masterrogue whom he served. For an hour Neil hung' upon the man's steps, yet cleverly keeping out of his sight. At the end of that time, the lawyer turned into the; house in Sutter Street, closing the front door behind him. ' Neil was perplexed by this move. What could Trenwyck be doing in that house when every dwelling in that part of the town had been deserted by its occupants? He resolved to investigate, but to do it secretly, j 1 Window-openings gapeU in the house walls, but Neil preferred to enter by the , door. Running up the steps, lie opened the door noiselessly and let himself in.