The time came, about the middle of December, when George left Greenway Court for Mount Vernon. It was in a mild spell of weather, and advantage had to be taken of it to make the journey, as the roads were likely to be impassable later in the season. He was to travel on horseback, Billy following him on a mule and carrying the portmanteau. The night before he left he had a long conversation with Lord Fairfax in the library. The earl gently hinted at a wish that George might remain with him always, and that ample provision would be made for him in that event; but George, with tact and gratitude, evaded the point. He felt a powerful attachment towards Lord Fairfax, but he had no mind to be anybody’s son except his father’s and his mother’s son. The earl’s last words on parting with him that night were: “I desire you to promise me that, in any emergency of any kind--and there will be many in your life--you will call on me as your friend if not your father.” George answered, with gratitude in his heart: “I will gladly promise that, my lord; and it is great encouragement to me to feel that I have such a friend.” Next morning, after an early breakfast, George’s horse and Billy’s mule were brought to the door. All the negroes were assembled to bid him good-bye. Cæsar hoped he would come back soon, but not for any more fights with Indians, and each had some good wish for him. After shaking bands with each one, George grasped Lance’s hand. “Good-bye, Lance,” said he. “I never can thank you enough for what you have taught me; not only fencing, but”--here George blushed a little at the recollection of his first fencing-lesson--“teaching me to control my temper.” “You were the aptest scholar I ever had, Mr. Washington,” answered the old soldier; “and as for your temper, I have never seen you anything but mild and gentle since that first day.” George then went to the library to find the earl. He had meant to say something expressive of gratitude, but all through his life words failed him when his heart was overflowing. Lord Fairfax, too, was silent for a moment; but taking down the smaller of the two swords over the mantel-piece he handed it to George. “This sword,” he said, “I wore in the service of the Great Duke. I give it to you as being worthy to wear it, and I charge you never to draw it in an unworthy cause.” “I promise you, my lord,” was all that George could say in reply; but Lord Fairfax, who was a good judge of men, knew all that was passing in the boy’s heart. The two wrung each other’s hands, and George, going out, mounted his horse and rode off, with Billy trotting behind on the mule, and Rattler running at his heels.