The Morestals were sitting down, when a sound of voices struck their ears and, through the opening in the fly of the tent, they caught sight of a person in a general's uniform, very tall, very thin, looking like a bird of prey, but presenting a fine appearance in a long black tunic. With his hand on the hilt of his sword, he was striding along the road in the company of the under-secretary.
Morestal whispered:
"The Statthalter.... They have already had one meeting, an hour ago."
The two men disappeared at the end of the Butte, then returned and, this time, doubtless embarrassed by the propinquity of the German officers, penetrated a few paces into French territory.
A word, here and there, of the conversation reached the tent. Then the two speakers stood still and the Morestals distinctly heard the Statthalter's voice:
"Monsieur le ministre, my conclusion is necessarily different from yours, because all the police-officers who took part in the arrest are unanimous in declaring that it was effected on German soil."
"Commissary Jorancé and M. Morestal," objected M. Le Corbier, "state the contrary."
"They are alone in saying so."
"M. Philippe Morestal took the evidence of Private Baufeld."