Lady Molly of Scotland Yard | Page 7

five. My lady sent
the telegram without condescending to tell me anything of its
destination or contents; then she took me to the Castle Hotel and
graciously offered me tea.
"May I be allowed to inquire whether you propose tramping back to
Ninescore to-night?" I asked with a slight touch of sarcasm, as I really
felt put out.
"No, Mary," she replied, quietly munching a bit of Sally Lunn; "I have
engaged a couple of rooms at this hotel and wired the chief that any
message will find us here to-morrow morning."
After that there was nothing for it but quietude, patience, and finally
supper and bed.
The next morning my lady walked into my room before I had finished
dressing. She had a newspaper in her hand, and threw it down on the
bed as she said calmly:
"It was in the evening paper all right last night. I think we shall be in
time."
No use asking her what "it" meant. It was easier to pick up the paper,
which I did. It was a late edition of one of the leading London evening
shockers, and at once the front page, with its startling headline,
attracted my attention:
THE NINESCORE MYSTERY
MARY NICHOLL'S BABY DYING
Then, below that, a short paragraph:--

"We regret to learn that the little baby
daughter of the unfortunate girl who was
murdered recently at Ash Court, Ninescore,
Kent, under such terrible and mysterious
circumstances, is very seriously ill at the
cottage of Mrs. Williams, in whose charge
she is. The local doctor who visited her
to-day declares that she cannot last more
than a few hours. At the time of going to
press the nature of the child's complaint was
not known to our special representative at
Ninescore."
"What does this mean?" I gasped.
But before she could reply there was a knock at the door.
"A telegram for Miss Granard," said the voice of the hall-porter.
"Quick, Mary," said Lady Molly, eagerly. "I told the chief and also
Meisures to wire here and to you."
The telegram turned out to have come from Ninescore, and was signed
"Meisures." Lady Molly read it aloud:
"Mary Nicholls arrived here this morning.
Detained her at station. Come at once."

"Mary Nicholls! I don't understand," was all I could contrive to say.
But she only replied:
"I knew it! I knew it! Oh, Mary, what a wonderful thing is human
nature, and how I thank Heaven that gave me a knowledge of it!"
She made me get dressed all in a hurry, and then we swallowed some
breakfast hastily whilst a fly was being got for us. I had, perforce, to
satisfy my curiosity from my own inner consciousness. Lady Molly
was too absorbed to take any notice of me. Evidently the chief knew
what she had done and approved of it: the telegram from Meisures
pointed to that.
My lady had suddenly become a personality. Dressed very quietly, and
in a smart close-fitting hat, she looked years older than her age, owing
also to the seriousness of her mien.
The fly took us to Ninescore fairly quickly. At the little police-station
we found Meisures awaiting us. He had Elliot and Pegram from the
Yard with him. They had obviously got their orders, for all three of
them were mighty deferential.
"The woman is Mary Nicholls, right enough," said Meisures, as Lady
Molly brushed quickly past him, "the woman who was supposed to
have been murdered. It's that silly bogus paragraph about the infant
brought her out of her hiding-place. I wonder how it got in," he added
blandly; "the child is well enough."
"I wonder," said Lady Molly, whilst a smile--the first I had seen that
morning--lit up her pretty face.
"I suppose the other sister will turn up too, presently," rejoined Elliot.
"Pretty lot of trouble we shall have now. If Mary Nicholls is alive and
kickin', who was murdered at Ash Court, say I?"
"I wonder," said Lady Molly, with the same charming smile.

Then she went in to see Mary Nicholls.
The Reverend Octavius Ludlow was sitting beside the girl, who seemed
in great distress, for she was crying bitterly.
Lady Molly asked Elliott and the others to remain in the passage whilst
she herself went into the room, I following behind her.
When the door was shut, she went up to Mary Nicholls, and assuming a
hard and severe manner, she said:
"Well, you have at last made up your mind, have you, Nicholls? I
suppose you know that we have applied for a warrant for your arrest?"
The woman gave a shriek which unmistakably was one of fear.
"My arrest?" she gasped. "What for?"
"The murder of your sister Susan."
"'Twasn't me!" she said quickly.
"Then Susan is dead?" retorted Lady Molly, quietly.