to the president, "not set the 'Saturday's' staff
against the 'Spectator's.' If about equally matched, they might
exterminate each other."

So his days of probation passed, and the time drew nigh for Andrew to
show what stuff was in him.

CHAPTER VIII

Andrew had set apart July 31 for killing Lord Randolph Churchill.

As his term of probation was up in the second week of August, this
would leave him nearly a fortnight to finish his thesis in.

On the 30th he bought a knife in Holborn suitable for his purpose. It
had been his original intention to use an electric rifle, but those he
was shown were too cumbrous for use in the streets.

The eminent statesman was residing at this time at the Grand Hotel, and
Andrew thought to get him somewhere between Trafalgar Square and the
House. Taking up his position in a window of Morley's Hotel at an
early hour, he set himself to watch the windows opposite. The plan of
the Grand was well known to him, for he had frequently made use of it
as overlooking the National Liberal Club, whose membership he had
already slightly reduced.

Turning his eyes to the private sitting-rooms, he soon discovered Lord
Randolph busily writing in one of them.

Andrew had lunch at Morley's, so that he might be prepared for any
emergency. Lord Randolph wrote on doggedly through the forenoon, and
Andrew hoped he would finish what he was at in case this might be his
last chance.

It rained all through the afternoon. The thick drizzle seemed to
double the width of the street, and even to Andrew's strained eyes the
shadow in the room opposite was obscured.

His eyes wandered from the window to the hotel entrance, and as cab
after cab rattled from it he became uneasy.

In ordinary circumstances he could have picked his man out anywhere,
but in rain all men look alike. He could have dashed across the street
and rushed from room to room of the Grand Hotel.

His self-restraint was rewarded.

Late in the afternoon Lord Randolph came to the window. The flashing
waterproofs and scurrying umbrellas were a surprise to him, and he
knitted his brows in annoyance.

By-and-by his face was convulsed with laughter.

He drew a chair to the window and stood on it, that he might have a
better view of the pavement beneath.

For some twenty minutes he remained there smacking his thighs, his
shoulders heaving with glee.

Andrew could not see what it was, but he formulated a theory.

Heavy blobs