There was a footstep behind, and he fell back.

It was Sir William Harcourt.

Lord Randolph heard him, and, seeing who it was, increased his pace.
The illustrious Liberal slackened at the same moment.
Andrew bit his lip and hurried on.
Some time was lost in getting round Sir William.
He was advancing in strides now.
Lord Randolph saw that he was pursued.
When Andrew began to run, he ran too.
There were not ten yards between them at Whitehall Place.
A large man turning the corner of Great Scotland Yard fell against Andrew.

He was wheeled aside, but Mr.Chaplin had saved a colleague's life.
With a cry Andrew bounded on, his knife glistening.
Trafalgar Square was a black mass.
Lord Randolph took Northumberland Avenue in four steps, Andrew almost on the top of him.
As he burst through the door of the Grand Hotel, his pursuer made one tremendous leap, and his knife catching Lord Randolph in the heel, carried away his shoe.
Andrew's face had struck the steps.
He heard the word "Fenian." There was a rushing to and fro of lights.
Springing to his feet, he thrust the shoe into his pocket and went home..