"I know not, sir, of what or whom you speak," replied Butler; "and it is due to my honor to say, that I will not be induced, for the sake of saving my life, to interfere with any operations which the soldiers of Congress may have undertaken in the cause of the country. In this sentiment I admonish Colonel Innis that I desire to be put in possession of no facts from him that may be communicated under such an expectation. And having made this determination known to you, I will add to it that, from the same motives, I will answer no questions you can propose to me. You may spare yourself, therefore, the useless labor of this visit. My life is in your hands, and I have already experienced with what justice and clemency you will use your power when you dare." "A more humble tone," said Innis, with a bitter smile, "I think would better suit your circumstances." And with this remark the commandant haughtily walked out of the apartment. The next morning, whilst Butler was taking his breakfast, which had been brought to him by one of the soldiers of the guard, he heard a loud cheering from the troops that at that hour were on parade in the plain. This was followed by the discharge of a _feu de joie_ from the whole line, and a flourish of drums and trumpets. "What is that?" he inquired eagerly of the soldier, who, forgetful, in the excitement of the moment, of the order to restrain his intercourse with the prisoner, answered-- "They have just got the news from Camden: two days ago Cornwallis defeated Gates, and cut his army to pieces. The troops are rejoicing for the victory, and have just had the despatches read." Butler heaved a deep sigh, as he said, "Then all is lost, and liberty is but a name! I feared it; God knows, I feared it." The soldier was recalled to his duty by the sentinel at the door, and Butler was again left alone.