"I have no motive for concealment," said Butler, "since I am already in your power. Myself and four comrades are strictly your prisoners; the rest of this party are inhabitants of the neighboring country, having no connexion with the war, but led hither by a simple wish to perform an office of humanity to a deceased friend. In surrendering myself and those under my command, I bespeak for the others an immunity from all vexatious detention. I am an officer of the Continental service: Butler is my name, my rank, a major of infantry."
After a few words more of explanation, the party were directed by the British officer to continue their march to Drummond's cabin, whither, in a brief space, they arrived under the escort of their captors.
A wakeful night was passed under the woodman's roof; and when morning came the circumstances of the recapture of Butler were more fully disclosed. The detachment under Captain McAlpine were on their way to join Ferguson, who was now posted in the upper district; and being attracted by the sound of voices engaged in chanting the psalm at the funeral of John Ramsay, and still more by the discharge of the volley over the grave, they had directed their march to the spot, which they had no difficulty in reaching by the help of the torches borne by the mourners.
The detachment consisted of a company of horse numbering some fifty men, who had no scruple in seizing upon Butler and his companions as prisoners of war. It was some relief to Butler when he ascertained that his present captors were ignorant of his previous history, and were unconnected with those who had formerly held him in custody. He was also gratified with the assurance that no design was entertained to molest any others of the party, except those whom Butler himself indicated as belligerents.
Captain McAlpine halted with his men at the woodman's cabin, until after sunrise. During this interval, Butler was enabled to prepare himself for the journey he was about to commence, and to take an affectionate leave of Musgrove and his daughter, David Ramsay, and the woodman's family.
Allen Musgrove and Mary, and their friend Ramsay, deemed it prudent to retreat with the first permission given them by the British officer; and, not long afterwards, Butler and his comrades found themselves in the escort of the Tory cavalry, bound for Ferguson's camp.
Thus, once more, was Butler doomed to feel the vexations of captivity.