“The poll opens at eight tomorrow morning,” said the chief organiser; “we must have him out by 7 a.m. ”

“Seven-thirty,” amended the prime minister; “we must avoid any appearance of precipitancy.”

“Not later than seven-thirty, then,” said the chief organiser; “I have promised the agent down there that he shall be able to display posters announcing ‘Platterbaff is Out,’ before the poll opens. He said it was our only chance of getting a telegram ‘Radprop is In’ tonight.”

At half-past seven the next morning the prime minister and the chief organiser sat at breakfast, making a perfunctory meal, and awaiting the return of the home secretary, who had gone in person to superintend the releasing of Platterbaff. Despite the earliness of the hour a small crowd had gathered in the street outside, and the horrible menacing Trelawney refrain of the “Fifteen Hundred Voting Men” came in a steady, monotonous chant.