"And you will risk your life and liberty by endeavouring to strike this murderous blow, of which you do not feel yourself physically capable? For my sake, Sonia, defer the attempt until another occasion." "I cannot, even though _you_ love me;" and her slim fingers tightened upon mine. Then, a second later, she clasped her hands to her forehead, and, reeling, would have fallen, had I not supported her. "How--how very foolish I am!" she said, a few moments later. "Forgive me." Then, as she steadied herself and strolled slowly by my side, she suddenly asked earnestly-- "Do you really love me, Andrew?" "I do," I answered fervently. "Then dare you--dare you, for my sake, Andrew--dare you _throw the bomb_?" she whispered hoarsely. Her suggestion startled me. I halted amazed. "I--I could not--I really could not," I stammered. "Ah! it is as I thought--you do not love me," she said reproachfully. "But it is time I took up my position at the next corner. If I die, it will be because you refused your assistance. Farewell!" Before I could detain her, she had turned into the Strand, and was lost among the bustling crowd. Hurrying, I overtook her before she gained the corner of Burleigh Street. "I have changed my mind, Sonia," I said. "Give it to me; I will act in your stead. Fly to a place of safety, and I will meet you in Warsaw on the day appointed." From beneath her shawl she carefully handed me the bomb. It was heavy, weighing fully eight pounds. Slipping it into the capacious pocket of the covert coat I was wearing, I stood at the street corner. Sonia refused to leave, declaring that she would remain to witness the death of the son of the Autocrat. Trembling and breathless, I stood dreading the fatal moment, knowing that my pocket contained sufficient picric acid to wreck the whole street. Seconds seemed hours. "As soon as you have thrown it, fly for your life," urged Sonia. Then we remained silent in watchful readiness. Suddenly, almost before we were aware of it, one of the Marlborough House carriages dashed round the corner past us, and drew up before the small door at the rear of the Lyceum. It was an exciting moment. Without hesitation I took out the deadly missile, and none too soon, indeed, for a second later the Tzarevitch's carriage followed, and just as it passed, I hurled it with all my force against the wheels. Turning, I dashed away across to the opposite side of the Strand, and was there overtaken, a few seconds later, by Sonia and Karamasoff. "It has not exploded!" they panted, in one breath. "No," I said. "How do you account for it?" "The tube of acid has not broken," Karamasoff said. "I predicted failure when I saw it. But let us go. Sooner or later a horse will kick it, or a wheel will pass over it, and then--pouf!" "Farewell," I said, and we hurriedly separated, each going in a different direction, both of my companions momentarily expecting to hear a terrific report.