LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume I, Issue 12, 13 June 1874, Page 3

LITERATURE.

VERY LOW PEOPLE INDEED.

By Marion Northcott, author of ' tim twinkleton's twins,' ETC. [From "Belgravia.:'] Concluded. I guessed who 'twas at once—indeed I half suspected it was Liz before I come to her. As I turned, we came full into the blaze of the lights from the Red Lion window She was very pale—much paler than she used to be ; but her eyes gleamed with a wild fiendish sort of look that I didn't half like. 'Liz,' I said, 'you ain't well, my gal. What's the matter with you V ' O, never mind me,' she says ; ' I've been, working early and late to drive away thoughts of the past, and it's pulled me down a bit. What of him ? Does he look as ill as they say I do ?' •Well, to tell you the truth,' I says, 'he doesn't. But he's on the drink frightful.' ' Look here, Arry,' she says, clutching my arm so that my face came round full in front of hers. ' Do you think—now speak the truth man, for I can tell if you're lying —do you think Jim's sorry for our quarrel ? Do you think he'd asked my pardon for his conduct-aboard the boat?' ' Liz,' I said, ' Jim ain't the man to beg anybody's pardon, as you know it. Your temper the other night frightened him, and I think nothing pardon will bring him round.' ' And that I'll never do 1' she said fiercely; ' but, Arry, if you like, you can take him a note. I'll wait here for the answer. Don't be long, for its precious cold.' With that she pressed a bit of paper into my hand, and hurried me back into Jim's room. My pardner was just putting Borne coal on to the iron crate which stood on the floor when I entered. When I told him who I'd seen, he snatched the note from my hand and after reading it, threw it in the fire. ' She wants to come and see me, and asks if I'm sorry for the other night. Tell her I I ain't going to give way one bit, and that I would sooner chuck myself into the Thames than marry such a jealous devil. Tell her so wcrd for word ; and if she likes to come and see me tomorrow, why she can.' In his rage Jim gave the crate a violent stir with the poker, and I left him. Liz was waiting outside, and as near as I could I give her his exact words. She took it very quietly, as though she had been expecting just that message, and then seizing my hands she kissed 'em. 'Arry,' she says, 'you've always been a good friend to me. If anything should happen that I mayn't see you again, goodbye and God bless you.' Her rapid action took me somewhat by surprise, and before I could recover myself, she had darted off through the back streets in the direction of.the Clare. Well, the next day \va3 a very we' uu. The rain came down that steady I knew it was no good for business, so I stayed in the court in Gray's inn lane, where I waa then lodging,

Bering to my instrument, and practising a few new tunes we were going to bring out for the holidays. Towards dusk the rain began to clear off a bit, and by six o'clock the stones were aa dry as you could expect 'em to be on a muggy night in January. I thought I might as well give Jim a look up, so down I walks to his place. Jolly miserable I felt too while I was about it. 1 put a pipe on, but 'twas no good. I couldn't drive the thoughts of that girl out of my head. Says Ito myself, » She ain't going to sit down quietly, and see Jim happy with another. She means mischief in some way.' Then there was her funny parting from me the night before. I put a little down to the fact that Liz was rum un, quite different to any other gal I'd ever met with; still there was no doubt she'd act desperate if she was put to it. Almost drearier than my own place looked thecourtJim livedin. There'dbeen a chimney a fire during the day, and what with the engines comiDg and the day's rain, there was as nice a mens of mud and slush as the children could wish to see. There was more than the usual gossiping going on at the street doors, by reason of the day's event, and the passage of Jim's house had a select party of a dozen in it. Seeing no light up in his room, I concluded Jim wasn't in, but I thought I might as well ask. A woman who lived downstairs said she knew he was in, because three or four hours ago a young woman with a bundle in her hand had been inquiring for him, and neither of 'em had gone out since. Of course I knew at once who the young woman was —it couldn't be anybody but Liz, so up the stairs I goes. The house was always a smoky un ; but.as I groped my way through the crowd of children playing about the stairs, I thought it smelt worse than usual—at least, 'twas a different sort of smell, which grew stronger and stronger the higher you got to the top of the house. The stairs tired me a bit, and the smell got down my throat eo bad, that when I'd knocked twice at Jim's door (which was locked inside), and there was no answer, I was out of patience. I hollared and beat against the pannel, but 'twas no use. All was as quiet within as could be. From what the down stair people said, it was evident Liz was still there, and suddenly her words the previous night returned to my mind. In a moment I'd called some of the people living in the house, and without telling them my suspicions, we were endeavoring to burst open the door. As we pushed against it and tried to force the lock, the close stifling smell increased; but the men, who had noticed it more or less for an hour or two, had pnt it down to their neighbors chimney. At last a strong push and a push all together drove the door before us, and stumbling over a heap of bed-clothes thrown down just at the entrance, we found ourselves in Jim's room. A sudden gust of wind rushing np the staircase blew out our light, but the momentary glimpse we had, made us cease all noise and speak only in whispers. 'This smell,' remarked a man, ' is from charcoal.' "When, to let out the fumes which filled the room, we had broken the glass in the window and another light was brought, we found Jim lying dead upon the floor with his face upward, looking quite placid, and a rum bottle by his side. Seated in a chair, with her arms thrown across the table and her head resting upon them, was Liz. I raised her, and turning her face towards me saw written on its pale immovable foatureß the same expression of determination I had so often noticed.

• Look here,' said one of the men ; ' here's the charcoal on the fire, and they've shoved rags and bed-clothes and things into every hole and corner where the air could get in. As clear a case of suicide as ever I sec.' I didn't contradict him. but I knew the man was mistaken. Liz had simply had her revenge. It was evident to me that she had come prepared for the worst, and that failing to make it up with Jim, she had induced him to drink what perhaps was drugged liquor. When he had fallen asleep upon the ground, she must have carefully stopped up all the air entrances, raked the coals from the iron grate, and put on the charcoal she had brought with her hidden in the bundle, and then, settling herself by the table, had calmly waited for the end. Of course there was an inquest, but I managed to keep out of it. There wasn't much fuss made, for the jury wanted to get back to their businesses, and very qnickly decided upon a verdict of suicide, and there was just a paragraph in the papers, that's all. You see, there was a big divorce case on at the time, and it's so much more interesting to read of your great rich educated folk going wrong than of us ignorant commoners. There seems more spice and relish about it; and after all, we street professionals ain't worth much notice—being very low people indeed.