Several of them had already reached the door of the café and were rushing down the street in the direction which Falkenberg had taken.
"There were two others," a grim voice shouted from behind.
A waiter, who had seen the two men sit down, looked doubtfully towards them. Kendricks pushed a note into his hand.
"Serve us with something quickly," he begged.
The man pocketed the note and set before them the beer which he was carrying. Kendricks, whose knuckles were bleeding, laid his hand under the table. Julien took a long drink of the beer and began to recover his breath.
"So far," he declared, "I have found your evening with the masses a little boisterous."
Kendricks laughed.
"Wait till my hand has stopped bleeding," he said, "and we will slip out. That was a narrow escape for Falkenberg. What a pluck the fellow must have!"
"It seems almost like a foolhardy risk," Julien muttered. "If those fellows could have got at him, they'd have killed him. Have they gone back to their room, I wonder? Let us hear what the people say about the affair."
"What was the disturbance?" he asked.