In his graduating year, he was so popular as to be elected president of his class, and so scholarly as to be made valedictorian.
These achievements on his part were so remarkable that the Associated Press telegraphed the news over the country, and many were the laudatory notices that he received.

The night of his graduation, when he had finished delivering his oration that swept all before it as does the whirlwind and the hurricane, as he stepped out of the door to take his carriage for home, a tall man with a broad face and long flowing beard stepped up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.
Bernard turned and the man handed him a note.

Tearing the envelope open he saw in his mother's well known handwriting the following: "Dear Bernie: "Follow this man and trust him as you would your loving mother.
"Fairfax Belgrave." Bernard dismissed his carriage, ordered to take him to his lodging, and spoke to the man who had accosted him, saying that he was at his service.

They walked a distance and soon were at the railroad station.
They boarded the train and in due time arrived in Washington, D.C., Bernard asking no questions, knowing that a woman as habitually careful as his mother did not send that message without due care and grave purpose.
In Washington they took a carriage and were driven to one of the most fashionable portions of the city, and stopped before a mansion of splendid appearance.

Bernard's escort led the way into the house, having a key to which all of the doors responded.