ame, he went forward to his
doom, to his death, to Arnold's ruin as an American citizen, and to the
preservation of the infant republic.

For the third time, Providence appears to have thwarted the shrewdest
plans of the enemies of America. First came the fog in New York Bay,
enabling Washington to withdraw his troops from Brooklyn without the
knowledge of the British; second, the knowledge of Hale's fate and the
preservation of his last words by a humane English officer, despite the
malice of Provost Marshal Cunningham; third, and apparently most
important of all, the capture of Andre, involving the defeat of Arnold's
traitorous plans to ruin his country's cause.

From the moment Andre fell into the hands of the Americans, he was
treated with the utmost courtesy. Every possible opportunity for him to
prove his innocence was given him, and an offer to exchange him for
Arnold, who had fled to the British camp, was made to the commanders of
the English. This, however, could not be done honorably by Sir Henry
Clinton, and Andre had to face a fate he had not for a moment thought
possible.

He bore himself bravely, and he certainly won the hearts of those who
held him prisoner. When he came to die in Tappan--not, as he had hoped,
as a soldier, shot to death, but hanged as a spy--he seemed for a moment
greatly affected. Then recovering himself before the fatal drop he said,
"Gentlemen, I beg you all to bear witness that I die as a brave man."

Self-pity, the desire to be honored despite the manner of his death,
marked Andre's exit from the world. Hale had gone hence without one
personal expression of regret save that he could not add to his service
for his country.

Andre had died pitied and lamented even by loyal Americans. England,
remembering what he had done to serve her, and that he had died in her
service, rendered his memory the highest honor. She conferred knighthood
on his brother, and a pension of three hundred guineas a year on his
mother and sisters, already well provided for.

Forty years later she sent one of her war vessels to America to bring
his body back to England; and then the doors of stately Westminster
Abbey, in which lie buried the dust of those she most delights to honor,
were opened to receive his remains; there they will lie till the old
Abbey crumbles.

Thus England honors the men who try to serve her in any line of heroic
service, proving that if she "expects every man to do his duty," she