It was out of sight in a few minutes, and in a few minutes more it
was out of hearing; but in that time George, who was quick-witted,
had shrewdly guessed the name and rank of the gentleman with the
plain clothes and the diamond-hilted sword. It was the great Earl
of Fairfax--the soldier, the wit, the rich nobleman--who for some
mysterious reason had chosen to come to this new land, and to build
a lodge in the wilderness. The boy had often heard his mother, Madam
Washington, speak of Earl Fairfax. Meeting with him was one of the
events of that great journey she had made in her girlhood to England,
where for a time she lived in the house of her brother Joseph Ball,
at Cookham, in Berkshire, who had left his Virginia home and had
taken up his residence in England. Here Mary Ball had met Augustine
Washington, then in England upon affairs connected with his property.
Augustine Washington was one of the handsomest men of his day, and
from him his eldest son George inherited the noble air and figure that
marked him. Mary Ball was a Virginia beauty, and although admired by
many Englishmen of distinction, she rather chose to marry Augustine
Washington, albeit he had been married before, and had two motherless
boys. In England, therefore, were they married, sailing soon after for
Virginia, and within twelve years Mrs. Washington was a widow with
five children. She loved to talk to her children of those happy English
days, when she had first pledged herself to Augustine Washington. It
had also been the only time of excitement in her quiet life, and she
had met many of the wits and cavaliers and belles of the reign of
George the Second. She sometimes spoke of Lord Fairfax, but always
guardedly; and George had conceived the idea that his mother perhaps
knew Lord Fairfax better, and the reasons for his abandonment of his
own country, than she cared to tell.
He began to wonder, quite naturally, where the earl was bound; and
suddenly it came to him in a flash--“He is going to pay his respects to
my mother.” In another instant he was on his feet and speeding like a
deer through the woods towards home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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