In the council-chamber were several gentlemen standing, in silence――Mr. Speaker Robinson, Colonel Cary, and my Lord Fairfax, as I was pleased to see, he having arrived that morning to be a guest of Governor Dinwiddie. There were also others, all standing in groups, but who they were I fail now to remember. All of them appeared to be serious as I went in, and there was, of a sudden, silence, except that the governor, a bulky man, very red in the face and of choleric temper, was walking about cursing in a most unseemly way. Lord Fairfax alone received me pleasantly, coming forward to greet me, but no one else did more than bow. The governor came toward me, and holding the capitulations in one hand, struck them with the other hand and cried out: “Explain, sir――explain how you, sir, an officer of the King, came to admit over your signature that you were an assassin, and twice, sir, twice. I consider you disgraced.” Lord Fairfax laid a hand on my arm to stay me and said: “Your Excellency, it is not the manner among us to condemn a man unheard; nor, sir, to address a gentleman as you have permitted yourself to do.” Colonel Cary said: “That, sir, is also my own opinion.” For this I was grateful, because on a former occasion he had himself been lacking in civility. Then my cousin Willis came across the room and said very low: “Keep yourself quiet, George.” I bowed and asked to be shown the translation. I read it over with care, while no one spoke. What had been said was correct. For a moment I was too amazed to speak. As I looked up, utterly confounded, Lord Fairfax said: “Well, colonel?” Upon this I related the facts of the case, and that Captains Mackay and Stephen had heard Van Braam translate the articles, and that he had never used the word _assassination_, but, in place of it, _death_; and that I considered it to have been ignorance on his part, and no worse. I saw also that, while I had been given to understand by Van Braam that for a year we were pledged not to make any forts on the lands of the King of France, I had really agreed that we were not for that period to do so beyond the mountains. When I had thus fully accounted for my misapprehension, Lord Fairfax said at once: “Then, gentlemen, this unfortunate mistake and this unlucky pledge were due to the governor’s council having failed to provide Colonel Washington with a competent French interpreter.” I could hardly help smiling at this transfer of the blame to the governor and his advisers. Colonel Byrd laughed outright, as the governor, with a great oath, cried out, “Nonsense, my lord,” and to me, “You should be broke, sir; you are unfit to command.” Lord Fairfax said quietly, “Be careful of your words, governor.” This stayed his speech, but amid entire silence he stood shaking with anger, so that, although his wig was covered with a net, the powder fell over his scarlet coat.