Summary

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace The Four Just Men (1920) — CHAPTER XI (1920)

All the world had been searched before they—the first Four—had come together—Manfred, Gonsalez, Poiccart, and the man who slept eternally in the flower-grown grave at Bordeaux. As men taking the oaths of priesthood they lived down the passions and frets of life. Each man was an open book to the other, speaking his most secret thought in the faith of sympathy, one dominating thought controlling them all.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace The Four Just Men (1920) — CHAPTER XI (1920)

For a mob is a cruel thing, heartless and unpitying.
Seven o’clock boomed forth, and the angry hum of talk ceased. London watched in silence, and with a quicker beating heart, the last hour crawl round the great clock’s dial.
There had been a slight alteration in the arrangements at Downing Street, and it was after seven o’clock before Sir Philip, opening the door of his study, in which he had sat alone, beckoned the commissioner and Falmouth to approach. They walked towards him, stopping a few feet from where he stood.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Wallace Edgar Wallace The Four Just Men (1920) — CHAPTER XI (1920)

In Sir Philip’s room the commissioner, backed by Falmouth, made his last appeal to the stubborn man whose life was threatened.
“I tell you, sir,” said the Commissioner earnestly, “we can do no more than we have done, and I am still afraid. These men affect me as would something supernatural. I have a horrible dread that for all our precautions we have left something out of our reckoning; that we are leaving unguarded some avenue which by their devilish ingenuity they may utilise. The death of this man Marks has unnerved me—the Four are ubiquitous as well as omnipotent.
Source: Wikisource

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