RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL,

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8387, 26 March 1907, Page 2

RIVEN ASUNDER. OR, BERYL GRAYSON'S ORDEAL,

A HO3IAN3E OF THE SAN FRANCISCO iHSASTEft.

CHAPTER XXI. —Continued. "It would b-well, I think," said Irma, "for you. to y.!:i\su:it!3 Mis:-; ' Uravscn to seek h-r ai his : cousin's on Nob H-T:. Her pride \ stands in the '.vay. but perhaps you j can eYen.o:n'' it." | Without another word Irma Leo j glided away and lest herself to view among the'wretched shelters erected by the fugitives. When Beryl, who was dreaming over the bit of paper placed in her hands by the minister, tarned to present Irma, she was gone. However, other thoughts, inspired by the certificate, were swirling in Beryl** bewildered brain. "Tonita—she (ouldnot have signed this in your home, sir?" Beryl asked. "She signed it at noon, when she came to our encampment after a fruitless, heart-breaking search for you," answered the minister. "Then she knows where you are?" cried Beryl, a flicker of joy crossing "her wan, sad face. "She knows, my child, and she will come again. She is tireless i.i her attempts to find you. The girl has a noble spirit, a fine, unselfish nature. She loves you dearly, little one, and feared much on your ac- ' count." Beryl clasped her hands. is like a dear sister to me," she murmured. Then, with a frightened, startled glance, she said falteringly: "And—and Neil—my husband?" Mr Bickerdyke saw the agony of doubt? the heart-breaking anxiety mirrored in the lovely face, and echoed the trembling words. "Courage," he smiled, seizing one of her hands in a fatherly clasp. "Your friend and I, after the first paralysis resulting from your abduction, had passed, carried Neil out of the house. A waggon we s passing, carrying wounded people to a temporary hospital. Neil was sent_ in the waggon, Tonita going with him. The last thing I called to Tonita was that she would find my daughter and me on this hill. Tonita came back to us, and said Neil had merely been stunned by the blow he had received and that he would not be long in the hospital." "Oh, where is this hospital?" cried Beryl, overwrought with joy and relief. "'I must go to my darling. I must be with him in the hour he needs me." "You cannot go to the hospital, little ope, for it has. been burned. But," lie added, noting the sudden woe that flashed out in the sweet face, "Neil could not have been there at the time. He is seeking you, and perhaps—we must not put •,'too much trust in circumstances, you ■know—perhaps Tonita will find him and lead him to you. But come, let us sit here on the grass while you,tell me all that has befallen you. Not one in the whole city but has met with sorrowing adventures this day. My daughter, even now, is ministering to the injured and distressed; and I," he added, sadly, "may be called at any'moment, as I have been most of the day, to give comfort to the dying." Russian Hill is the most lofty height within the city proper, and some eight blocks west of Kearney Street, and the same distance from the north shore of the peninsula on which the city is situated. There, while they watched the smoke'hovering over the city's heart, Beryl repeated he"r story. "Cruel fate," muttered the minister; ""that this tender form'should be buffeted about in the swirl and strife of such a mighty disaster. Yet you are but one among thousands, my child. You encountered much evil, yet you also met kindness and generosity. Neil had relatives in the city," he went on, suddenly changing the theme of his remarks, "among them a wealthy cousin living on Nob Hill. You knew this, did you not?" "Yes," she answered, averting her face. "And Neil knew that you knew it?" "He told me of his cousin himself," she answered. "Do you not think that he would imagine that this cousin's house would be the very place you would go to seekjiim?" asked the good,man gently. "No, Mr Bickerdyke," said Beryl. "Neil has told me things concerning his cousin, Arthur Preston, which would not allow him to imagine such/ a thing." ** The minister was no stranger to the enmity of the Prestons towards Beryl. Neil had made the minister his confidant. "To-day, my child," said Mr Bickerdyke, "pride has been brought to her knees in this great city. There are no rich, no poor, no aristocrats, no plebians. The millionaire and the beggar share their last cup of water, their last loaf of bread. It would be well, I think, if you called at the mansion of Niel's cousin and asked for news." "If you counsel it—" murmured Beryl, with trembling Ips. "I do counsel it. When you are rested and refreshed with such poor food as v/e have here, I will go with you." She clasped his hand in silent gratitude. While they* were eating .some of'the homely fare which the minister set out on the grass, fate, .seemingly, bent upon retrieving the hardships showered upon Beryl during the preceding part of the day, brought Tonita. Ho.w can one do justice to the joy which filled the two friend;; as they leaped into $: each other's arms? Tonita was wearied to exhaustion with her .fruitless search, and her glad tears mingled with Beryl's in the transport of this unexpected meeting. The minister could not remain long with the girls, being called away to attend upon the last moments

&y Julia Edwards., AulJur of "Tie Little llidow," "Siulia, tie Eoschui," "PreHicd of All.'' "Stella Sterling," "Laura Drayton," etc.

of one who hr.d been stricken down and hud not been able to find the means for ret'.ehing a hospital. With hr.nd>. eianped and tired hearts reviving under the spell of tender companionship, fie two friends sat long together, each recounting- her varied experiences. Tor.it:;., after learning that Neil was not seriously injured, had written the hurried note for him and had gone'abroad into the city to search for Beryl. She had not much hope, knowing too well the evil daring and resourcefulness of Berdyne, Far and wid« and into many dangers her search had led her, but she had come safely, although with an unsuccessful errand, through them all. After hearing Beryl's story, the Mexicana was quite positive that Berdyne had succumbed when he had run the Red Flier into the live wire. '"lf he has met his death in this shattered city," breathed 'Tonita, "it is well. Many a better man has been killed or ruined this day, dear." The Mexicana shuddered. "Oh," she whispered, "I have seen such sights as I hope I may never live to see again. And they are being enacted over and over again, down there, at this very moment." Tonita waved one of her small brown hands towards the fi:ery distance. Evening had come while the friends were sitting and talking—a perfect evening. The air was warm, | the clear, pale stars shone in the i blue arch, and the hush of,nature was broken only by the sullen roar to the south and by the low voices of those who had clustered on the hill. The smoke of the fire arose a mile or more straight up into the air, a great shaft luminous with the flame that ■ laved its base. Beryl felt and believed that somewhere under that awesome pall her dear husband, with the bitterness of despair filling his heart, was seeking for her. Her bosom trembled under : spell of the thought. Suppose he had gone to his cousin's at Nob Hill? And suppose her own false pride had prevented a glad reunion with him? She arose suddenly. "Dearest," said she in quivering tones, "I must go to Nob Hill." "What?" cried the Mexicana, amazed. "You will go there now?'" "Yes," and she told her friend why. "Mr Bickerdyke has not returned," went on Beryl, "and I feel that I should not wait any longer." "You do not know the way, querida," said Tonita. "I can inquire." "But suppose that wicked man, Berdyne " "Heaven may have decreed that he shall never trouble me more," answered Beryl simply. "Besides," she added, laying her hand on her heaving breast, "something here seems to tell me that I should go to Arthur Preston—and go now." "I will go with you. then, dear," said Tonita, rising at her friend's side. "But you are tired, Tonita*/' "I have not borne half what you have Beryl. I could not let you go alone! Nothing shall separate us again while ■we are in this doomed city." ; "My dear, dear friend!" murmured Beryl. "I hope that some day I may be able to repay all your kindness to me." They would have liked to inform the minister where they were going, yet Beryl felt sure that, when he found them gone, he would under-> stand. Besides, it was he who had advised the step, and had humbled the foolish pride which had kept her from taking it before. When they left the little refugee camp on the grassy slope, it was eight o'clock—the very hour which saw Neil starting from Union Square for the same destination. But the girls did not know the way so well as Neil did. Many times they strayed from their direct course, and many times they were wrongly directed. So it chanced that when they finally reached the mansion, and were assured by a man that itwas the house of Artur Preston, they had been an hour longer on the way than Neil had been. Almost overcome with weariness, they sank down on the broad steps to rest before ascending to the stately entrance. All about them were Chinese, Japanese, • Italians, negroes, encamping for the night, or lugging their store of goods along to some other locality where they might rest and be secure. On the brown-stone enclosing wall of the mansion portable stoves were glowing, and tea was steeping in. little, Oriental kettles. These queer fires lighted the whole . front of the house, in weird contrast to the immense banners of flame that shivered overhead in the night sky. (To be Continued). '.