strongest passion of his nature, and he
had stood by him always. He had grieved over the refusal of Congress
to promote him in due order and had interceded with ultimate success
in his behalf. He had sympathized with him in his recent troubles
in Philadelphia, and had administered the reprimand awarded by the
court-martial so that rebuke seemed turned to praise. He had sought
to give him every opportunity that a soldier could desire, and had
finally conferred upon him the command of West Point. He had admired
his courage and palliated his misconduct, and now the scoundrel had
turned on him and fled. Mingled with the bitterness of these memories
of betrayed confidence was the torturing ignorance of how far this
base treachery had extended. For all he knew there might be a brood of
traitors about him in the very citadel of America. We can never know
Washington's thoughts at that time, for he was ever silent, but as we
listen in imagination to the sound of the even footfalls which the
guard heard all through that September night, we can dimly guess the
feelings of the strong and passionate nature, wounded and distressed
almost beyond endurance.

There is but little more to tell. The conspiracy stopped with Arnold.
He had no accomplices, and meant to deliver the post and pocket the
booty alone. The British tried to spread the idea that other officers
had been corrupted, but the attempt failed, and Washington's prompt
measures of defense checked any movement against the forts. Every
effort was made by Clinton to save Andre, but in vain. He was tried
by a court composed of the highest officers in the American service,
among whom was Lafayette. On his own statement, but one decision was
possible. He was condemned as a spy, and as a spy he was sentenced to
be hanged. He made a manly appeal against the manner of his death, and
begged to be shot. Washington declined to interfere, and Andre went to
the gallows.

The British, at the time, and some of their writers afterwards,
attacked Washington for insisting on this mode of execution, but there
never was an instance in his career when he was more entirely right.
Andre was a spy and briber, who sought to ruin the American cause
by means of the treachery of an American general. It was a dark and
dangerous game, and he knew that he staked his life on the result. He
failed, and paid the penalty. Washington could not permit, he would
have been grossly and feebly culpable if he had p