Down the river he marched, he and his six hundred, and in the summer heat entered Jamestown and drew up before the Capitol.
The space in front of this building was packed with the Jamestown folk and with the six hundred.

Bacon, a guard behind him, advanced to the central door, to find William Berkeley standing there shaking with rage.
The old royalist has courage.

He tears open his silken vest and fine shirt and faces the young man who, though trained in the law of the realm, is now filling that law with a hundred wounds.

He raises a passionate voice.

"Here! Shoot me! 'Fore God, a fair mark--a fair mark! Shoot!" Bacon will not shoot him, but will have that promised commission to go against the Indians.