he continued obstinate in his pretended ignorance; when Mr. secretary St. John produced his letter, and, with a force of eloquence inseparable from what he speaks, represented to monsieur de Guiscard the baseness, the blackness, of his crime; "to betray the queen, his benefactress; Britain, the country that had refuged, supported, trusted, honoured him by the command of her troops with such noble confidence, that made it double villany in him to be a villain;" exhorting him, "yet to be sincere, and give up to their information what he knew of the treacherous design he had formed."
Whilst the secretary's words were making an irresistible impression upon every mind but his to whom they were addressed; the criminal formed to himself the destruction of those two dreadful enemies of France, Mr. Harley and Mr. St. John. It seemed to him too hazardous to attempt the design at the full board; not in regard of his own life (that was already devoted), but lest they should not be both involved. It appeared reasonable to him, that if, upon the pretence of discovery, he could get Mr. St. John to withdraw, Mr. Harley might possibly be of the party, and he have a chance to murder both before they could be assisted. Accordingly, when he was pressed to discover, he desired to speak with Mr. St. John apart. The secretary told him, "That was impracticable: he was before the whole committee as a criminal; and what he had to say, must be said to all." Upon Guiscard's persisting to speak only to the secretary, they went to ring the bell, to call in the messengers, to carry him away; which he observing, cried out, "That is hard! not one word! pas un mot!" and, stooping down said, "J’en
