The men surrounded them; but, vigorous both and exasperated, they succeeded in fighting their way through with their fists: "To the Butte-aux-Loups," said Jorance, "and keep to the left of the road." "We're not on the left," said Morestal, who saw, after a moment, that they had branched off to the right. They re-entered French territory; but the police who were pursuing the deserter, having lost his tracks, now fell back in their direction. Thereupon they made a bend to the right, hesitated for a moment, careful not to cross the road, and then set off again; and, still tracked by the men, whom they felt close upon their heels, they reached the acclivity of the Butte-aux-Loups. At that moment, surrounded on all hands and utterly blown, they had to stop to take breath. "Arrest them!" said the leader of the men, in whom they recognized the German commissary, Weisslicht. "Arrest them! We are in Germany." "You lie!" roared Morestal, fighting with wild energy. "You have not the right.... It's a dirty trap!" It was a violent struggle, but did not last long. He received a blow on the chin with the butt of a rifle, reeled, but continued to defend himself, hitting and biting his adversaries. At last, they succeeded in throwing him and, to stifle his shouting, they gagged him. Jorance, who had taken a leap to the rear and was standing with his back to a tree, resisted, protesting: "I am M. Jorance, special commissary at Saint-Elophe. I am on my own ground here. We are in France. There's the frontier." The men flung themselves upon him and dragged him away, while he shouted at the top of his voice: "Help! Help! They're arresting the French commissary on French soil!" A report was heard, followed by another. Morestal, with a superhuman effort, had knocked down the policeman who held him and once more took to flight, with a cord cutting into one of his wrists and with a gag in his mouth. But, two hundred yards further, as he was turning towards the Col du Diable, his foot knocked against the root of a tree and he fell. He was at once overtaken and firmly bound. * * * A few moments later, the two prisoners were carried by the police to the road leading through the Albern Woods and hoisted on the backs of a couple of horses. They were taken to the Col du Diable and, from there, past the Wildermann factory and the hamlet of Torins, sent on to the German town of Boersweilen. PART II CHAPTER I THE TWO WOMEN Suzanne Jorance pushed the swing-gate and entered the grounds of the Old Mill.