They returned in the direction of the Butte-aux-Loups, but were at once caught up:
"Halt!" commanded a rough voice. "I arrest you.... You are accomplices.... I arrest you."
"We are in France," retorted Jorancé, facing his aggressors.
A hand fell on his shoulder:
"We'll see about that.... We'll see about that.... You're coming with us."
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 Jorancé, "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.