of France. Fifty thousand pounds a year, to which in strictness
of law he had no right, awaited his acceptance, if he would only
move to a greater distance from the country which, while he was
near it, could never be at rest. If, in such circumstances, he
refused to move, this was the strongest reason for believing that
he could not safely be suffered to stay. The fact that he thought
the difference between residing at Saint Germains and residing at
Avignon worth more than fifty thousand a year sufficiently proved
that he had not relinquished the hope of being restored to his
throne by means of a rebellion or of something worse. Lewis
answered that on that point his resolution was unalterable. He
never would compel his guest and kinsman to depart. "There is
another matter," said Portland, "about which I have felt it my
duty to make representations. I mean the countenance given to the
assassins." "I know nothing about assassins," said Lewis. "Of
course," answered the Ambassador, "your Majesty knows nothing
about such men. At least your Majesty does not know them for what
they are. But I can point them out, and can furnish ample proofs
of their guilt." He then named Berwick. For the English
Government, which had been willing to make large allowances for
Berwick's peculiar position as long as he confined himself to
acts of open and manly hostility, conceived that he had forfeited
all claim to indulgence by becoming privy to the Assassination
Plot. This man, Portland said, constantly haunted Versailles.
Barclay, whose guilt was of a still deeper dye,--Barclay, the
chief contriver of the murderous ambuscade of Turnham Green,--had
found in France, not only an asylum, but an honourable military
position. The monk who was sometimes called Harrison and
sometimes went by the alias of Johnson, but who, whether Harrison
or Johnson, had been one of the earliest and one of the most