When Rodney mounted his horse, Mr. Jefferson stood stroking the animal's nose, for he ever admired a fine horse, and he said: "If worse comes to worst this colt would help pay off the mortgage, and, should you decide to sell him, I would like to have a chance to buy him;" then, seeing that the lad's face had become very serious, he quickly added: "but there won't be any need of that yet awhile. By the way, why did you give him the name, 'Nat?'" "I named him after Nathaniel Bacon. Father says he'd rather have had Bacon's fate and reputation than Lord Berkeley's." "Berkeley didn't believe in encouraging boys in Virginia to read books, so he and I wouldn't have agreed," and as the boy rode away he said to himself, "and the Berkeleys in this generation think the good English blood of these colonies can be ruled like serfs!" As for Rodney, the brightness somehow seemed to have departed from the bright day which had held such promise. His mind had been full of the importance and pleasure of his visit. Now, he could only think, "Must I sell Nat?" It had never occurred to him until suggested by Mr. Jefferson. Was it his duty to part with the colt? Well, if necessary he would do it, "But first I'll work my fingers off, Nat," and he patted the glossy, arching neck while Nat champed impatiently at the bit. By the time they reached the cabin, the boy had recovered much of his cheerfulness, and entertained his father with a glowing account of his visit. David Allison was busily engaged in cleaning the old rifle he had carried through the French and Indian war. It was apparent that he had not put away altogether his desire to join Clark's company. When Rodney told of Mr. Jefferson's offer to give him work, his father, turning to his wife, said, "Harriet, I think I should go." For some minutes nothing was said. Rodney noted the shadow on his mother's face. Finally she replied, "It does seem that the hand of Providence is shaping matters," and both father and son knew that the struggle was past; she would spare no effort to assist in her husband's departure. The thought of what the wives and mothers endured, in the work of winning this mighty land, ought to bring the blush of shame to the face of every son of woman who does aught to sully its fair fame! One week later David Allison left for the land "over the mountains," and disappeared into the great forest, which swallowed him as a huge cave the one who explores it. Both wife and son noticed that he did not seem bent and old as he had of late. He was the brave soldier going forth to battle again. Before he left he arranged, if all went well and another party the following year should leave for the West to join them, that Rodney might go with them.