"Right away!" he answered. "We'll ring for Ferris."
The chauffeur came in and received his orders. We got into our coats and walked out toward the front door. Suddenly I drew Jacky back and stood behind a pillar. A great touring car had turned the corner and was passing down the street. In it were three men,—the Chinese ambassador, Delora, and the man who had left the offices of Messrs. Halliday with them.
"Is that the road to London?" I asked the porter.
"It is the way into the main road, sir," he answered,—"two hundred and sixty-five miles."
They swung round the corner and disappeared. Our own car was just drawing up. I turned to Jacky.
"We'd better wait a few minutes," I said, "and tell your man not to overtake that car!"
Jacky looked at me in surprise. He was by no means a curious person, but he was obviously puzzled.
"What a mysterious person you have become, Austen!" he said. "What's it all about?"
"You will know some day," I answered, as we made ourselves comfortable,—"perhaps before many hours are past!"