induced me to obey. My daughter," continued Macpherson, "was in the power of the count:—she had listened too readily to his suit. 'I will expose her to the world—I will send her forth unprovided,' he said, 'if you betray me, or refuse to obey."
"No excuses," cried the duke, fiercely: "proceed. It is sufficient you willed the crime. Now tell me how amongst you you achieved it." "I must be circumstantial in my narrative," said Macpherson; "and since your grace has the condescension to hear me, you must hear all with patience; and first, the Count Viviani did not slay the Lord of Delaval: he did not employ me in that horrid act. I think no bribe or menace could have engaged me to perform it: but a strange, a wild idea, occurred to him as he passed with me through Wales, in our journey hither; and months and months succeeded, before it was in my power to execute his com-
