Next evening, as the General sat in his quarters at the Alexandria Tavern, surrounded by his officers, most of them drinking and swaggering, the General most of all, a knock came at the door, and when it was opened Captain Vanbraam's short figure appeared, and with him George Washington, the finest and most military figure that General Braddock ever remembered to have seen. Something he had once heard of the great Condé came to General Braddock's dull brain when he saw this superb young soldier: "This man was born a captain."
When George was introduced he was received with every evidence of respect. The General, who was a good soldier after a bad pattern, said to him at once:
"Mr. Washington, I have much desired to see you, and will you oblige me by giving me, later on, a full account of your last campaign?" The other officers took the hint, and in a little while George and the General were alone. They remained alone until two o'clock in the morning, and when George came out of the room he had entered as a private citizen he was first aide-de-camp on General Braddock's staff.
As he walked back to Captain Vanbraam's quarters in the dead of night, under a wintry sky, he was almost overwhelmed with conflicting feelings. He was full of joy that he could make the campaign in an honorable position; but General Braddock's utter inability to comprehend what was necessary in such fighting filled him with dread for the brave men who were to be risked in such a venture.
Captain Vanbraam was up waiting for him. In a few words George told what had passed.
"And now," he said, "I must be up and doing, although it is past two o'clock. I must bid my mother good-by, and I foresee there will be no time to do it when once I have reported, which I promised to do within twenty-four hours. By starting now I can reach Ferry Farm by the morning, spend an hour with her, and return here at night; so if you, Captain, will have my horses brought, I will wake up my boy Billy"—for although Billy was quite George's age, he remained ever his "boy."
That morning at Ferry Farm, about ten o'clock, Betty, happening to open the parlor door, ran directly into George's arms, whom she supposed to be forty-five miles off. Betty was speechless with amazement.
"Don't look as if you had seen a rattlesnake, Betty," cried George, giving her a very cruel pinch, "but run, like a good child as you are, though flighty, and tell our mother that I am here."
Before Betty could move a step in marched Madam Washington, stately and beautiful as ever. And there were the three boys, all handsome youths, but handsomer when they were not contrasted with the elder brother; and then, quite gayly and as if he were a mere lad, George plunged into his story, telling his mother that he was to make the campaign with General Braddock as first aide-de-camp, and trying to tell her about the officers' letter, which he took from his pocket, but, blushing very much, was going to return it had not Betty seized it as with an eagle's claw.
"Betty," cried George, stamping his foot, "give me back that letter!"