“Having finished his work in New York, Hale recrossed to Brooklyn and threaded his way through the lines to Huntingdon. By this time he felt so secure in his disguise that he entered without hesitation the tavern of Widow Chichester and sat down among a group of loungers, with whom he talked in his character of a Quaker school teacher. He was happy over the thought that his dangerous work was over and the important knowledge he had gained would soon be in the hands of General Washington.
“Among the strangers in the place was one whose face seemed familiar to Hale, but he could not recall where he had ever met the man. He decided that the resemblance was one of those accidental ones that are occasionally seen, and he gave the matter no further thought. By and by the fellow, who silently studied the beaming young Quaker, slipped out of doors and did not return.
“Ah, why did Hale fail to see the sinister meaning of all this? After escaping so many perils, why did he not continue alert and suspicious until safe within his own lines? Sad to say, not a single misgiving entered his thoughts, and after awhile he bade the company good night and went to his room.
“The next morning at dawn he walked to the bay to meet the boat that was to come for him. With a thrill of delighted expectancy, he saw a craft containing several men approaching. He sprang lightly down the bank and then suddenly stopped in consternation. The boat was filled with British marines under command of an officer!
“He whirled about to flee. Had he discovered his peril sooner and gained a few minutes’ start, no pursuer could have overtaken him. But six muskets were leveled, and he was ordered to surrender under threat of instant death. He paused, came down the bank again and stepped into the boat, which was rowed out to the British ship Halifax. There he was searched and the fatal papers were found on him.
“The tradition is that the man in the tavern who betrayed Hale was a distant Tory relative who recognized him as soon as he entered the place. Upon leaving the inn, he went to a British naval officer in Huntingdon Bay with the news.
“Captain Hale was taken to New York on the 21st and brought before Lord Howe, who read the documents that had been captured with the prisoner. It was useless to try to conceal the truth and Hale denied nothing. He said he wished no court-martial and was ready to meet his fate.
“Howe was naturally a kind-hearted man, but just then he was greatly irritated over a fire which had destroyed several hundred houses in New York, and which he believed had been started by the Americans to prevent his use of them. He condemned Hale to be hanged at daylight the next morning and placed him in the custody of William Cunningham, Provost Marshal and one of the most brutal wretches that ever lived. It is some consolation to know that this miscreant was hanged himself some years later for scores of confessed murders to which he had been accessory. He thrust Hale into a prison cell, and would not have unpinioned him except for the intercession of a British officer. When the prisoner asked for the presence of a chaplain, it was refused with curses, as was his request for a Bible. The same friendly officer obtained permission for Hale to write letters to his mother, sisters and the girl to whom he was betrothed. The missives were handed to Cunningham to be forwarded. With a leer he read each and then tore them up and flung the fragments on the floor. Hale looked scornfully at him but did not speak.
“The next morning he was led to the gallows, which was the limb of an apple tree, exactly where is not known. In accordance with the military custom of those days, a ladder was placed under the branch. The prisoner climbed two or three rounds, when at a signal the support was turned and he was left dangling in the air. A moment before, he had looked down in the faces of the hushed spectators and uttered his last noble words:
“‘I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country!’