The major, my uncle, had said I should ride by his side, and so I did, down the road at the heels of the Tory scoundrels, ever as we had done the night previous. Then on, and on, striking down a foe here and there until we were come, nearly the whole brigade, into that encampment which Gavin Witherspoon and I had looked upon, believing it could not be taken by such a force as ours.
Out of all those scoundrels who had so lately held the place, believing that those true to the Cause had been virtually crushed by the defeat of General Gates, only two men came forth to meet us, and those two, my brother and Gavin Witherspoon.
Is there any need I should say how warm was the greeting between us two lads when I threw myself from the horse and clasped to my heart the dear boy whom I had thought never to see again in this life?
It needed no more than an hundred words for him to tell his story.
While he remained in the thicket guarding Sam Lee a body of men, who had lately served under Major Gainey, came upon them by chance, and, as a matter of course, he was at once taken prisoner, Sam Lee immediately telling the story of his own capture.
Then it was the Tory Sam who became the jailer, and Percy the prisoner.
My brother was conducted to Barfield's camp, and there kept under guard of Sam, who did all that lay in his power, save by way of personal violence, to pay off old scores.
Gavin Witherspoon, wily as an Indian, had crept up to the very edge of the encampment, and was lying there in the vain hope that some opportunity would come for the rescue, when our force, sent as a decoy, appeared.
An hundred or more men were left to guard the encampment, and Gavin hoped the moment had come when he might be of service to the lad.
Believing that the Tories would be victorious in the chase, because of superior numbers, he ventured too near Percy, and was himself captured.