"I beg your Excellency will be persuaded that no alteration in the temper of my mind, or apprehensions for my safety, induces me to take the step of addressing you; but that it is to secure myself from the imputation of having assumed a mean character for treacherous purposes or self-interest. It is to vindicate my fame that I speak, and not to solicit security. "The person in your possession is Major John Andre, adjutant-general of the British army.

"The influence of one commander in the army of his adversary is an advantage taken in war. A correspondence for this purpose I held; as confidential (in the present instance) with his Excellency, Sir Henry Clinton. To favor it, I agreed to meet upon ground not within the posts of either army, a person who was to give me intelligence. I came up in the "Vulture" man-of-war for this effect, and was fetched from the sloop to the beach. Being there, I was told that the approach of day would prevent my return and that I must be concealed until the next night. I was in my regimentals, and had fairly risked my person.

"Against my stipulation, my intention, and without my knowledge beforeheand, I was conducted within one of your posts. Thus was I betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy within your posts.

"Having avowed myself a British officer, I have nothing to reveal but what relates to myself, which is true, on the honor of an officer and a gentleman.

"The request I have made to your Excellency, and I am conscious that I address myself well, is, that in any rigor policy may dictate, a decency of conduct toward me may mark, that, though unfortunate, I am branded with nothing dishonorable; as no motive could be mine but the service of my king, and as I was involuntarily an impostor."

This letter he submitted to the perusal of Major Tallmadge, who was surprised and agitated at finding the rank and importance of the prisoner he had in charge. The letter being dispatched, and Andre's pride relieved on a sensitive point, he resumed his serenity, apparently unconscious of the awful responsibility of his situation. Having a talent for caricature, he even amused himself in the course of the day by making a ludicrous sketch of himself and his rustic escort under march, and presenting it to an officer in the room with him. "This," said he gayly, "will give you an idea of the style in which I have had the honor to be conducted to my present abode."

NOTE

Andre's propensity for caricature had recently been indulged in a mock heroic poem in three cantos, celebrating an attack upon a British picket by Wayne, with the driving into the American camp of a drove of cattle by Lee's dragoons. It is written with great humor, and is full of grotesque imagery. "Mad Anthony" especially is in broad caricature, and represented to have lost his horse upon the great occasion.

His horse that carried all his prog,

His military speeches,

His corn-stalk whisky for his grog

Blue stockings and brown breeches.

The cantos were published at different times in "Rivington's Gazette." It so happened that the last canto appeared on the very day of Andre's capture, and ended with the following stanza, which might be considered ominous:

And now I've closed my epic strain,

I tremble as I show it,

Lest this same warrio-drover, Wayne,
Should ever catch the poet.

CHAPTER TEN

Interview of Washington with the French Officers at HartfordPlan of Attack disconcerted-Washington's Return-Scenes at Arnold's Headquarters in the Highlands-Tidings of André's Capture-Flight of Arnold-Letters from the Traitor-Washington's Precautions-Situation of Mrs. Arnold

ON the very day that the treasonable conference between Arnold and Andre took place, on the banks of Haverstraw Bay, Washington had his interview with the French officers at Hartford. It led to no important result. Intelligence was received that the squadron of the Count de Guichen, on which they had relied to give them superiority by sea, had sailed for Europe. This disconcerted their plans, and Washington, in consequence, set out two or three days sooner than had been anticipated on his return to his headquarters on the Hudson. He was accompanied by Lafayette and General Knox, with their suites; also, part of the way, by Count Matthew Dumas, aid-de-camp to Rochambeau. The count, who regarded Washington with an enthusiasm which appears to have been felt by many of the young French officers, gives an animated picture of the manner in which he was greeted in one of the towns through which they passed. "We arrived there," says he, "at night; the whole population had sallied forth beyond the suburbs. We were surrounded by a crowd of children carrying torches, and reiterating the acclamations of the citizens; all were eager to touch the person of him whom they hailed with loud cries as their father, and they thronged before us so as almost to prevent

our moving onward. General Washington, much affected, paused a few moments, and pressing my hand, 'We may be beaten by the English,' said he, 'it is the chance of war; but there is the army they will never conquer!'"'

These few words speak that noble confidence in the enduring patriotism of his countrymen which sustained him throughout all the fluctuating fortunes of the Revolution; yet at this very moment it was about to receive one of the cruelest of wounds.

On approaching the Hudson, Washington took a more circuitous route than the one he had originally intended, striking the river at Fishkill just above the Highlands, that he might visit West Point, and show the marquis the works which had been erected there during his absence in France. Circumstances detained them a night at Fishkill. Their baggage was sent on to Arnold's quarters in the Robinson House, with a message apprising the general that they would breakfast there the next day. In the morning (September 24th) they were in the saddle before break of day, having a ride to make of eighteen miles through the mountains. It was a pleasant and animated one. Washington was in excellent spirits, and the buoyant marquis, and genial, warmhearted Knox, were companions with whom he was always disposed to unbend.

When within a mile of the Robinson House, Washington turned down a cross-road leading to the banks of the Hudson. Lafayette apprised him that he was going out of the way, and hinted that Mrs. Arnold must be waiting breakfast for him. "Ah, marquis!" replied he good-humoredly, "you young men are all in love with Mrs. Arnold. I see you are eager to be with her as soon as possible. Go you. and breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait for me. I

must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side of the river, but will be with her shortly."

The marquis and General Knox, however, turned off and accompanied him down to the redoubts, while Colonel Hamilton, and Lafayette's aid-de-camp, Major James McHenry, continued along the main road to the Robinson House, bearing Washington's apology, and request that the breakfast might not be retarded.

The family, with the two aides-de-camp, sat down to breakfast. Mrs. Arnold had arrived but four or five days previously from Philadelphia, with her infant child, then about six months old. She was bright and amiable as usual. Arnold was silent and gloomy. It was an anxious moment with him. This was the day appointed for the consummation of the plot, when the enemy's ships were to ascend the river. The return of the commander-in-chief from the East two days sooner than had been anticipated, and his proposed visit to the forts, threatened to disconcert everything. What might be the consequence Arnold could not conjecture. An interval of fearful imaginings was soon brought to a direful close. In the midst of the repast a horseman alighted at the gate. It was the messenger bearing Jameson's letter to Arnold, stating the capture of Andre, and that dangerous papers found on him had been forwarded to Washington.

The mine had exploded beneath Arnold's feet; yet in this awful moment he gave an evidence of that quickness of mind which had won laurels for him when in the path of duty. Controlling the dismay that must have smitten him to the heart, he beckoned Mrs. Arnold from the breakfasttable, signifying a wish to speak with her in private. When alone with her in her room upstairs, he announced in hurried words that he was a ruined man and must instantly fly for