André was in possession of all necessary information concerning the post to be surrendered. Arnold was to make a show of resistance on the arrival of the British on 25th September, while Washington himself was to be delivered into the hands of the enemy on his return that way on September 27th. Benedict Arnold was to receive some £6500 as a reward for his treachery, a sum which was eventually paid though the surrender of West Point never took place. On leaving Smith's residence and bidding adieu to Arnold, the Major discovered to his surprise that the _Vulture_ had disappeared. The sloop had been cannonaded during the night and compelled to drop down the river. As the Major considered his difficult position, the vessel returned to its previous moorings and André requested Smith to convey him aboard. Smith refused, pleading reasonably enough that he was afraid of the consequences to himself of rendering such a service. No bribe being sufficient apparently to move the farmer, André found himself forced to remain where he was and to his undoubted peril, until nightfall. Smith offered to provide the Major with an American uniform, but finding it impossible to procure one, gave him instead an old-fashioned coat of the cavalier style, purple in colour, with faded gold lace. A melancholy beaver hat completed the strange attire of the British officer who covered the whole with an ordinary surtout. Contrary to express instructions from Clinton, André took away the papers which Arnold had given him at the farmhouse, concealing them in his top-boots—an entirely senseless as well as purposeless proceeding, which eventually led to his undoing. Accompanied by Smith and a negro, André crossed the Hudson at King's Ferry on 22nd September, rode boldly into the American lines, spending, indeed, a night at another farmhouse in the midst of the enemy. On the 23rd, bidding his companions adieu, the Major, following directions given him by Smith, made for so-called neutral ground which swarmed with Tories and where he might feel reasonably safe. Mistaking a turn, however, in the old Tarrytown Road, along which he rode his horse slowly and with some hesitation, he came suddenly upon a group of farmers who were ranging the countryside in quest of suspicious persons. One of them, Paulding by name, wore a Hessian surtout given him by a friend. When André came in sight the company was playing cards, and on the Major's approach, Paulding, the master spirit of the gang, stepped to the front, musket in hand, commanding the traveller to halt and account for himself. Seeing the Hessian coat—a garment peculiar to King George's troops—André stopped his horse. "My lads," he said, "you belong to our side, I see." "What side?" asked Paulding. "The British side," André replied. "We do," answered Paulding.