The Council of Justice | Page 5

violence,
'These Christs who deputize their Calvaries,' she called them with fine
scorn, and the hall roared its approval of the imagery.
It was the fury of the applause that disconcerted her; the taller of the
two men who sat watching her realized that much. For when the
shouting had died down and she strove to resume, she faltered and
stammered and then was silent. Then abruptly and with surprising
vehemence she began again. But she had changed the direction of her
oratory, and it was upon another subject that she now spoke. A subject
nearer to her at that moment than any other, for her pale cheeks flushed
and a feverish light came to her eyes as she spoke.
'...and now, with all our perfect organization, with the world almost
within our grasp--there comes somebody who says "Stop!"--and we
who by our acts have terrorized kings and dominated the councils of
empires, are ourselves threatened!'
The audience grew deadly silent. They were silent before, but now the
silence was painful.
The two men who watched her stirred a little uneasily, as though
something in her speech had jarred. Indeed, the suggestion of
braggadocio in her assertion of the Red Hundred's power had struck a
discordant note.
The girl continued speaking rapidly.
'We have heard--you have heard--we know of these men who have
written to us. They say'--her voice rose--'that we shall not do what we
do. They threaten us--they threaten me--that we must change our

methods, or they will punish as--as we--punish; kill as we kill--'
There was a murmuring in the audience and men looked at one another
in amazement. For terror unmistakable and undisguised was written on
her pale face and shone from those wondrous eyes of hers.
'But we will defy--'
Loud voices and the sound of scuffling in the little anteroom
interrupted her, and a warning word shouted brought the audience to its
feet.
'The police!'
A hundred stealthy hands reached for cunning pockets, but somebody
leapt upon a bench, near the entrance, and held up an authoritative
hand.
'Gentlemen, there is no occasion for alarm--I am
Detective-Superintendent Falmouth from Scotland Yard, and I have no
quarrel with the Red Hundred.'
Little Peter, transfixed for the moment, pushed his way towards the
detective.
'Who do you want--what do you want?' he asked.
The detective stood with his back to the door and answered.
'I want two men who were seen to enter this hall: two members of an
organization that is outside the Red Hundred. They--'
'Ha!' The woman who still stood upon the platform leant forward with
blazing eyes.
'I know--I know!' she cried breathlessly; 'the men who threatened
us--who threatened me--The Four Just Men!'
CHAPTER II.

The Fourth Man
The tall man's hand was in his pocket when the detective spoke.
When he had entered the hall he had thrown a swift glance round the
place and taken in every detail. He had seen the beaded strip of
unpainted wood which guarded the electric light cables, and had
improved the opportunity whilst the prosy brother was speaking to
make a further reconnaissance. There was a white porcelain
switchboard with half a dozen switches at the left-hand side of the
platform. He judged the distance and threw up the hand that held the
pistol.
Bang! Bang!
A crash of broken glass, a quick flash of blue flame from the shattered
fuses--and the hall was in darkness. It happened before the detective
could spring from his form into the yelling, screaming crowd--before
the police officer could get a glance at the man who fired the shots.
In an instant the place was a pandemonium.
'Silence!' Falmouth roared above the din; 'silence! Keep quiet, you
miserable cowards--show a light here, Brown, Curtis--Inspector, where
are your men's lanterns!'
The rays of a dozen bull's-eye lamps waved over the struggling throng.
'Open your lanterns'--and to the seething mob, 'Silence!' Then a bright
young officer remembered that he had seen gas-brackets in the room,
and struggled through the howling mob till he came to the wall and
found the gas-fitting with his lantern. He struck a match and lit the gas,
and the panic subsided as suddenly as it had begun.
Falmouth, choked with rage, threw his eye round the hall. 'Guard the
door,' he said briefly; 'the hall is surrounded and they cannot possibly
escape.' He strode swiftly along the central aisle, followed by two of his
men, and with an agile leap, sprang on to the platform and faced the

audience. The Woman of Gratz, with a white set face, stood motionless,
one hand resting on the little table, the other at her throat. Falmouth
raised his hand to enjoin silence and the law-breakers obeyed.
'I have no quarrel with the Red Hundred,' he said. 'By the law of this