criminals, [777]

Dunlop was, in the mean time, magnifying, wherever he went, the divine
goodness which had, by so humble an instrument as himself, brought a
noble person back to the right path. Montgomery no sooner heard of this
wonderful work of grace than he too began to experience compunction. He
went to Melville, made a confession not exactly coinciding with Ross's,
and obtained a pass for England. William was then in Ireland; and Mary
was governing in his stead. At her feet Montgomery threw himself.
He tried to move her pity by speaking of his broken fortunes, and to
ingratiate himself with her by praising her sweet and affable manners.
He gave up to her the names of his fellow plotters. He vowed to dedicate
his whole life to her service, if she would obtain for him some place
which might enable him to subsist with decency. She was so much touched
by his supplications and flatteries that she recommended him to her
husband's favour; but the just distrust and abhorrence with which
William regarded Montgomery were not to be overcome, [778]

Before the traitor had been admitted to Mary's presence, he had obtained
a promise that he should be allowed to depart in safety. The promise was
kept. During some months, he lay hid in London, and contrived to carry
on a negotiation with the government. He offered to be a witness against
his accomplices on condition of having a good place. William would bid
no higher than a pardon. At length the communications were broken off.
Montgomery retired for a time to France. He soon returned to London, and
passed the miserable remnant of his life in forming plots which came to
nothing, and in writing libels which are distinguished by the grace
and vigour of their style from most of the productions of the Jacobite
press, [779]

Annandale, when he learned that his two accomplices had turned
approvers, retired to Bath, and pretended to drink the waters. Thence he
was soon brought up to London by a warrant. He acknowledged that he had
been seduced into treason; but he declared that he had only said Amen to
the plans of others, and that his childlike simplicity had been imposed
on by Montgomery, that worst, that falsest, that most unquiet of human
beings. The noble penitent then proceeded to make atonement for his own
crime by criminating other people, English and Scotch, Whig and Tory,
guilty and innocent. Some he accused on his own knowledge, and some
on mere hearsay. Among those whom he