"Right well," she answered; "it is that very noble gentleman, the Earl of Essex----"
Rochester's left hand fell upon the hilt of his sword; but the Countess proceeded,--"Do you think that, at any distance, I should not know that form, the hateful shadow of which has haunted me, waking and sleeping, for so long a time?"
"Shall we avoid him?" said Rochester, who, though as ready as any one to draw the sword, was not, to do him but justice, inclined to wrangle in the presence of a woman.
"No," answered the Countess, calmly, "I have no wish to shun him. Methinks I will take off my mask."
"No, no!" cried Rochester, "not so,--give him the opportunity of not seeming to know thee, if he will;" and, with a deliberate step, they proceeded along the alley, up which the Earl of Essex advanced in the same thoughtful mood.
When he was within a few steps of them he raised his head. His brow contracted, but that was the only sign of emotion he displayed. With a firm, steady look, he gazed at Rochester from head to foot, and then turned his eyes upon the Countess, fixing them upon her masked face sternly and sadly. It was evident that he knew her; and, indeed, the beauty of her form, and the queenly grace of her step, were not to be mistaken.
Not the slightest quivering of her hand, nor any clinging to the arm of Rochester, indicated agitation or alarm on her part. She trod, as she passed the man whose happiness she had wrecked, with a foot as bold and unwavering as if her path were one of virtue and honour. It seemed as if she wished him to see and know, how completely she had cast off all sense of right and decency; and perhaps it was indeed so, for her object was to drive him to have their incomplete marriage annulled, and set her free to wed the man for whom she had disgraced herself.
"I shall cut that man's throat some day," said Rochester, after they had passed; "saw you the glance he gave me? That cannot be long borne."
"I beseech you do nothing of the kind," replied the Countess, the few better points in whose character require to be displayed as well as the darker ones. "'Tis not that I am afraid for you, Rochester; but you must not spill his blood. I hate, abhor, loathe him; but still I have brought upon him much misery, and I wish not to do more. Did he stand in my way, did he still persist in his claims upon me, I know not what I might not do to free myself from him. Anything, anything, I believe. But such is not the case; thank God, he hates me as much as I hate him, and therefore I would injure him no further. Were he even to lash me with his tongue, instead of trying to look me down with his eyes, I could forgive him. No; you must do nothing against him. But now we are coming near the palace, and I must leave you; you can follow in a few minutes. I shall be with the Queen all night."
From these last words, the reader will learn that the Countess still strove to conceal her conduct from the eyes of the Court in general; but in this, as might be expected, she was unsuccessful. Fond of scandal and of gossip, King James showed no reprobation of the gross immorality and vice that reigned in his Court, and seemed, indeed, to tolerate it, for the sake of the amusement which it afforded him to hear of all the intrigues that were going on around him. But the encouragement he gave to every one of his confidential attendants, to pry into and report to him all the secrets of the ladies and gentlemen attached to the Queen and to himself, ensured that nothing should be concealed which the cunning and acuteness of low-minded and unscrupulous men could discover.