It was William's turn to start. It was a fact. The ceremony, owing to the haste in the purchasing of his command and of the departure of Colonel Forsyth from England, had been omitted. "What are you going to do with us?" asked the Captain. "How did you come to be in command?" "Through fate, perhaps," responded William; "it has decided many things. I am going to take you to Morristown, if I can; and as for myself, I shall turn myself in as a prisoner of war with the rest of you. I cannot explain. Some day you will understand." It was necessary to hasten the march now, for a messenger had arrived, stating that re-enforcements of the British were approaching from Elizabethtown. They marched ahead at a faster pace. It was a strange tale that William Frothingham related when he brought his command to the American lines. The idea of an English officer leading an American attack, and after victory convoying his prisoners to his enemy's lines, and there insisting upon giving himself up also as a prisoner of war--this was something new in the annals of history. He found himself in the most remarkable position that probably a man had ever been placed in before. After hearing his tale and recovering from the astonishment of finding that it was not the Lieutenant Frothingham they knew, the Americans would not accept him as a prisoner. The Commander-in-Chief expressed the sentiment of the meeting in these words: "You are free to return, sir, without exchange; but it is my advice that you do not do so. What you can explain to us you could never explain to the gentlemen who are temporarily in New York city." Colonel Roberts, of Washington's staff, here whispered a suggestion. It was taken up at once, and the sentence of the court to which William had presented his remarkable petition was as follows: "Lieutenant William Frothingham, late of his Majesty King George's service, is hereby ordered to free confinement at the Manor House of Stanham Mills, to be paroled there on honor not to escape or desert a country that has profited by his free service." * * * * * It was at Stanham Mills. "Yes, I knowed it all de time," said old Cato to the group in the kitchen. The old man was breathless from reiterating this statement.