Then Mrs. Pankhurst turned to Inspector Jarvis, appealing to him, or to anyone, to take her message to the Prime Minister, but she was merely told to go away. "I absolutely refuse," she said, and the other ladies chimed in, "We absolutely support Miss Pankhurst." At that, whilst the rows of Members of Parliament policemen and newspaper reporters looked on with interest, Inspector Jarvis seized Mrs. Pankhurst by the arm and began to push her away.

There was no hope now that the deputation would be received and she well knew that if the women persisted in their demand to enter the House they would be arrested in the end. For the sake of their cause neither she nor they could ever consent voluntarily to retrace their steps. They must refuse to go and when, as they would be, they were forced rudely back, they must return again and again until they could do so no longer because they had been placed under arrest. This would mean a hard and a long struggle, for the police would first try every other means to overcome them. She knew that in a moment the violence would begin and that the frail old ladies behind her would be hustled and jostled and thrust ignominiously aside. And so, not for herself, for she had borne this sort of thing before, but to save these older women from ill-usage, she committed a technical assault on Inspector Jarvis, striking him lightly on the cheek with her open hand. As she did so, he said, "I know why you have done that." But one blow was not enough for the police began to seize the other women and the pushing and hustling began. Then she said, "Must I do it again?" and Inspector Jarvis answered, "Yes." At that, she struck him again on the other cheek and he said: "Take them in," and the eight women were placed under arrest and led away.

Meanwhile the people outside the police lines had waited patiently until at last the news filtered through that the deputation had not been received. Then suddenly a woman was seen struggling through the crowd bearing the colours. Cheers were raised at the sight and policemen rushed towards her. This was the signal for a general attempt on the part of the Suffragettes to reach the House of Commons and in ever recurring batches of twelve, that only too soon were to be torn asunder, the women bravely but hopelessly pressed on; whilst more than it had ever done before the crowd showed a disposition to help them and to prevent their arrest.

But Parliament went on as though nothing were happening and when a man in the Central Lobby suddenly shouted, "The women of England are clamouring outside," he was at once seized by numbers of by-standers and police and bundled through the door. Then tranquillity reigned once more. It turned out that the interrupter was Mr. Lawrence Housman, the well-known writer and artist.

At nine o'clock a great force of mounted police cleared the Square, beating the people back into Victoria Street, into Parliament Street, across Westminster Bridge or along Millbank. It was a familiar stratagem and, as on so many other similar occasions, Parliament Square was soon a desert. But now a strange thing happened, for little groups of women, six or seven at a time, kept issuing from no one knew where, and making determined rushes for the House. As a matter of fact the W. S. P. U. had hired thirty different offices in the Square for that night and in these offices women lay concealed and dashed out at preconcerted moments.

Whilst this was happening in the Square other Suffragettes succeeded in carrying out a time-honoured means of showing political contempt by breaking the windows of the official residence of the first Lord of the Admiralty, and of the Home Office, the Privy Council Office and the Treasury Offices in Whitehall. Having gone just after dusk, when the lights are lit in rooms where people are, they chose windows on the ground floor that were still dark. Then to small stones, around which were wrapped petitions, they tied string, and, holding fast to the end of the string, they struck the stones against the windows, and, having thus made holes, dropped them through. So they accomplished their purpose without the risk of injuring anyone. One hundred and eight women were at last taken into custody.

Long accounts of the affair appeared in the Press next morning and these were on the whole very much more favourable to the women than any that had gone before, as the following gleanings from some of the papers indicate:

The record of these attempted raids has been one of remarkable persistency in the face of every possible discouragement from the authorities.—Daily Telegraph.

The same paper also published a humorous pen-and-ink drawing of a mounted policeman, four constables and an inspector marching off to prison the tiny figure of Miss Neligan with the inscription, "Seventy-nine years old! Liberal treatment."

It is the most successful effort that the militant section of the party have made.... However much one may deplore their methods one cannot overlook their earnestness; they are out to win.—The Scotsman.