e, 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.

She was dressed in white and her face looked fresh and cool under a
large hat of Leghorn straw, with its black-velvet strings hanging loose
upon her shoulders. Her short skirt showed her dainty ankles. She walked
with a brisk step, using a tall, iron-shod stick, while her disengaged
hand crumpled some flowers which she had gathered on the way and which
she dropped heedlessly as she went.

The Morestals' peaceful house was waking in the morning sun. Several of
the windows were open; and Suzanne saw Marthe writing at the table in
her bedroom.

She called out:

"Can I come up?"

But Mme. Morestal appeared at one of the windows of the drawing-room and
made an imperious sign to her:

"Hush! Don't speak!"

"What's the matter?" asked Suzanne, when she joined the old lady.

"They're asleep."

"Who?"

"Why, the father and son."

"Oh!" said Suzanne. "Philippe too?..."

"Yes, they must have come in late and they are resting. Neither of t