form erect and noble--his face somewhat paler,
and his eagle eye somewhat brighter than usual. But these are the only
signs he gives of emotion, as he looks down upon that hostile crowd,
with a smile of bitter scorn encircling his lip. He quails not, he
blenches not, before that angry foe. His pulse beats calmly and
regularly, for it is under the control of the brave great heart, which
knows no fear. And there he stands, all calm and silent, like a firm-set
rock that defies in its iron strength the fury of the storm that beats
against it.

Yet Berkeley is in danger. He is the object, the sole object, of the
bitter hate of that incensed and indignant soldiery. He has pledged and
he has broken his word to them, and when did broken faith ever fail to
arouse the indignation of Virginians? He has denied them the right to
protect, by organized force, their homes and their firesides from the
midnight attacks of ruthless savages. He has advised the passage of laws
restricting their commerce, and reducing the value of their staples. He
has urged the erection of forts throughout the colony, armed with a
regular soldiery, supported in their idleness by the industry of
Virginians, and whose sole object is to check the kindling flame of
liberty among the people. He has sanctioned and encouraged the exercise
of power by Parliament to tax an unrepresented colony. He has advised
and upheld His Majesty in depriving the original patentees of immense
tracts of land, and lavishing them as princely donations upon fawning
favourites. He has refused to represent to the king the many grievances
of the colony, and to urge their redress, and, although thus showing
himself to be a tyrant over a free people, he has dared to urge, through
his servile commissioners, his appointment as Governor for life.

Such were some of the many causes of discontent among the colonists
which had so inflamed them against Sir William Berkeley. And now, there
he stood before them, calm in spite of their menaces, unrelenting in
spite of their remonstrances. Without a word of command, and with one
accord a hundred fusils were pointed at the breast of the brave old
Governor. It was a moment of intense excitement--of terrible suspense.
But even then his courage and his self-reliance forsook him not. Tearing
open his vest, and presenting himself at the window more fully to their
attack, he cried out in a firm voice:

"Aye, shoot! 'Fore God, a fair mark. Infatuated men,