“And, when it comes, young man,” returned Bacon, haughtily, “be assured that I will not be backward in affording you an opportunity of defending yourself—meantime you are under my command—and will please remember that you are so. But, gentlemen,” he continued, turning to the others, “what say you to our conduct in these circumstances. Shall we proceed to Powhatan, against the enemy of a country to which we are traitors, or shall we march on this mendacious old Knight, and once again wipe off the stigma which he has placed upon our names?” “I think,” said Lawrence, after a pause of some moments, “that there is a good deal of truth in the views presented by Major Hansford. But, could not some middle course be adopted. I don't exactly see how it can be effected, but, if the Governor were met by remonstrance of his injustice, and informed of our determination to resist it as such, it seems to me that he would be forced to recant this last proclamation, and all would be well again.” “And who think you would carry the remonstrance,” said Bacon. “It would be about as wise to thrust your head in a lion's mouth, as to trust yourself in the hands of the old fanatic. I know not whom we could get to bear such a mission,” he added, smiling, “unless our friend Ingram there, who having been accustomed to ropes in his youth, if report speaks true, need have no fear of them in age.”[38] “In faith, General,” replied the quondam rope-dancer, “I am only expert in managing the cable when it supports my feet. But I have never been able to perform the feat of dancing on nothing and holding on by my neck.” “General Bacon,” said Hansford, stepping forward, “I am willing to execute your mission to the Governor.” “My dear boy,” said Bacon, grasping him warmly by the hand, “forgive me for speaking so roughly to you just now, I am almost ready to cut my tongue out of my head for having said anything to wound your feelings. But damn that old treacherous fox, he inflamed me so, that I must have let out some of my bad humour or choked in retaining it.” Hansford returned his grasp warmly, perhaps the more ready to forgive and forget, as he saw a prospect of attaining his object in protecting the family of his friend from harm. “But you shall not go,” continued Bacon. “It were madness to venture within the clutch of the infuriated old madman.” “Whatever were the danger,” said Hansford, “this was my proposition, and on me devolves the peril, if peril there be in its execution. But there is really none. Colonel Temple, although a bigot in his loyalty, is the last person to violate the rites of hospitality or to despise a flag of truce. And Sir William Berkeley dare not disregard either whilst under his roof.”