At six o'clock, Mrs. Drummond returned, promptly to the moment, and the two other prisoners walked calmly downstairs and into the offices. Inspector Jarvis and a detective in plain clothes were already waiting and, after the warrant for their arrest had been read out to them, they were taken in a cab to Bow Street. The Court having risen, it was impossible for the trial to be proceeded with that evening and when they applied to be allowed out on bail until the next morning their application was refused and they were hurried away to the cells. The police court cells are about five feet wide by seven feet long, exceedingly badly lit and furnished only with a wooden bench attached to the wall and a sanitary convenience. There are neither washing utensils nor bed of any kind, but each prisoner is given a dark and dirty-looking rug in which to wrap herself during the night. Mrs. Pankhurst at once claimed her right as an untried prisoner to communicate with the outside world and immediately despatched telegrams to several Members of Parliament. A weary hour or two went by. Then the door of Mrs. Pankhurst's cell was thrown wide open, and the tall, breezy presence of Mr. Murray, Liberal Member of Parliament for East Aberdeenshire, appeared. He was horrified to find the three ladies in these unpleasant surroundings and, promising to return soon, he hurried to the Savoy Hotel, and there arranged for various comforts to be sent in to the prison. Then he prevailed upon the authorities to allow the three Suffragettes to take their evening meal together and, in an incredibly short space of time, they were ushered into the matron's room. The bare little place with its dingy walls, its wooden chairs and two deal tables, had been wonderfully transformed. Numbers of tall wax candles had been lighted, the tables were laid with silver, flowers and brightly coloured fruit, and three waiters were ready to serve the prisoners with a most elaborate meal. At the same time, Mr. Murray, with his face wreathed in smiles, was superintending the carrying in to the cells of three comfortable beds. The management of the Savoy had thrown themselves into the enterprise with the greatest eagerness and, having acted throughout with almost overwhelming kindness and courtesy, ended by refusing to charge anything at all for what they had provided. As well may be imagined, the three comrades were in no haste to finish the meal and return to the dark and solitary cells. [Illustration: Reading the Warrant, October 13th, 1908]