Van Koon, who had been staring about him as they crossed over from the corner of Wellington Street, turned and glanced at the occupants of the car.  Allerdyke was looking there, too.  He had never seen Delkin as yet, and he was curious to set eyes on a man who had made several millions out of canning meat.  He had no very clear conception of American millionaires, and he scarcely knew what he expected to see.  But there were two men in the car with the Princess Nastirsevitch, and they were both middle-aged.  One man was a tall, handsome, military-looking fellow, dressed in grey tweeds and wearing a Homburg hat of light grey with a darker band; his upturned, grizzled moustache gave him a smart, rather aggressive appearance; the monocle in his eye added to his general impressiveness.  The other man was not particularly impressive—­a medium sized, rather plump little man, with a bland, smiling countenance and mild eyes beaming through gold-rimmed spectacles; he sat with his back to the driver, and was just then leaning forward to tell something to the Princess and the man in the Homburg hat who were bending towards him and, smiling at what he said.

“Which of ’em is Delkin, then?” asked Allerdyke as the automobile swept into the courtyard.  “Big or little?”

“The little fellow with the spectacles,” replied Fullaway.  “Quiet, unobtrusive man, Delkin—­but cute as they’re made.  Know the other man, Van Koon?”

Van Koon had twisted round and was staring back in the direction from which they had come, he shook his head, a little absent-mindedly.

“Not from Adam,” he answered, “but there’s a man—­Bostonian—­just gone along there that I do know and want to see badly.  Wait a bit for me in the courtyard there, Fullaway—­shan’t be long.”

He turned as he spoke, and darted off through the crowd, unusually dense at that moment because of the luncheon hour.  Fullaway, making no comment, walked forward into the courtyard and looked about him.  Suddenly he nodded his head towards a far corner.

“There’s Delkin and the Princess, and the man who was with them, sitting at a table over there,” he said.  “I didn’t know that Delkin and the Princess were acquainted.  But then, of course, they’re both staying in this hotel, and they’re both American.  Well, shall we go to them now, Allerdyke, or shall we sit down here and wait a bit for Van Koon?”

“We’ll wait,” replied Allerdyke.  He dropped into a chair and drew out his cigarette-case.  “Have a drink while we’re waiting?” he suggested, beckoning a waiter who was passing.  “What’s it to be?”

“Oh—­something small, then,” said Fullaway.  “Dry sherry.  Better bring three—­Van Koon won’t be long.”

But the minutes passed and Van Koon was still absent.  Ten minutes more went, and still he did not come.  And Fullaway pulled out his watch with an air of annoyance.

“Too bad of Van Koon,” he said.  “Time’s going, and I know Delkin lunches at two o’clock.  Come on, Allerdyke,” he continued, rising, “we’ll go over to Delkin.  If Van Koon comes, he’ll find us.  He’s probably gone off with that other man, though—­he’s an absent-minded chap in some things, and too much given to the affair of the moment.  Come on—­I’ll introduce you.”