They reached home at dark, and found the cheerful welcome of a roaring fire in the great hall awaiting them. At supper Lance, with a great flourish, handed a dish to Lord Fairfax which George thought the most uninviting he had ever seen--huge lumps of something burned black; but the aroma was delicious. Seeing Lord Fairfax take one of the black lumps, George courageously followed his example, and, attacking it, found it perfectly delicious. “Bears’ paws generally taste better than they look,” remarked Lord Fairfax; and George remembered that Lance had told him there would be bear meat for supper. The evening was spent in the library, the earl reading and writing. He pointed out a smaller table than his own, in a corner, saying, “That is for you to read and write at, and to keep your books and papers on.” George found writing-materials on it, and, seating himself, wrote a long letter to little Betty, and then wrote in his journal for his mother, describing Billy’s expedition, and that the boy was safe with him. He then took a volume of the _Spectator_, and soon became absorbed in it. Presently Lord Fairfax, who was watching him with pleased eyes, asked: “What paper interests you so much, George?” “I will read it to you, sir, if you care to hear it,” George replied. Lord Fairfax liked to be read to, and listened very gravely to the reading. George laid down the book when the paper was finished, saying, “There is no name at the end of it, sir. Most of them have Mr. Addison’s or Captain Steele’s or Mr. Arbuthnot’s or Mr. Pickell’s or some other name at the bottom, but this has none.” “I wrote that paper,” remarked the earl. “I had the honor of contributing several papers to the _Spectator_; but while appreciating the honor, I did not seek the notoriety of an author, and so, except to a few persons, my writings are unknown.” George nearly dropped the book in his surprise, but he regarded Lord Fairfax’s attainments with greater respect than ever. The next day and the next and the next were passed in much the same way, only that George no more lost his temper in fencing or in any other way. The instant he became cool and self-controlled he learned the science of the sword with great rapidity. Every morning for two hours he and Lance practised--sometimes in the arsenal, sometimes out-of-doors, when they would go through the sword-exercise on horseback. Every day George grew fonder of the old soldier. He was a man of great natural intelligence, and could talk most sensibly upon every subject connected with the profession of arms. One thing he said remained fixed in George’s mind, and was recalled many years afterwards at a very critical time. They were one morning at the stables, which were directly at the back of the house, and were resting after a bout on horseback with swords.