"The villain!" she exclaimed--"the base villain! Can you consider this man as your friend, Rochester, after such words as those to your affianced wife? Can you believe that he sought to serve you? Can you suppose that anything but his own interest injured, and his schemes for his own benefit defeated, could have induced him to speak thus of a lady whom you love?--No, no, the man betrays himself!--It is evident that he spoke with the rage of disappointment. It was for his own advancement that he sought to marry you to the Lady Arabella, not for your benefit. If it had been merely out of regard for you, would he have thus abused her who has sacrificed all for you? If he really loved you, would he have thus condemned her love? For whom have I made myself all that he calls me?--for whom have I risked everything, resigned everything? Did I ever give a thought to any other man on earth? With all his hatred and malice, he dare not say that; and had he possessed towards you one particle of true attachment, he would have learned to estimate that, which flings every other consideration but its love away,"--and, bursting into tears, she cast herself, sobbing passionately, upon Rochester's bosom.
He had gazed at her with admiration, not unmixed with wonder, as he beheld her lustrous eyes flashing, and all her beautiful features lighted up with indignation; and when the shower followed the thunder, he held her tenderly to his heart, and tried to soothe her with words of love and promises of everlasting affection.
"No, Rochester, no!" she cried, at length, raising herself, and wiping away the drops from her cheeks; "it is not for myself I care. Of me he may say what he likes, but he must not deceive and betray you any longer. He seeks but to make a tool of you for his own advancement; and to it he will not fail to sacrifice you as soon as the opportunity occurs. Your fortune and high favour, your noble qualities and distinction, have, as they always do, created many enemies, all eager to pull you down; and, in such circumstances, it needs but a faithless friend to bring about a man's destruction."
"I do not think he would betray me," replied Rochester.
"Not, perhaps, exactly betray you," replied the Countess, "for traitors are always despised even by those they serve; and he is too cunning for that. But, step by step, he will undermine you with the King, if he be not removed. He will first begin by opposing our marriage----"
"If he do that, I will cut his throat," cried Rochester.
"Perhaps he will not do so openly," continued the Countess, "but he will speak of me to James as he has to you, and will beseech him all the time not to betray his words. He will teach the King to think you weak, foolish, and intemperate, because you persevere in loving one who has devoted herself to you. Let this Overbury,--let him, if he can, or if he dare, make such sacrifices for you as I have made; and then I will believe he is your friend. As it is, he must be removed.--Yes, if you love me, if you would wed me, if you would be safe yourself, if you would consult my peace, he must be removed."
"Not slain," said Rochester, in a low tone, "not slain--that I cannot consent to."
"Nay," answered the Countess, with one of her bright and beaming smiles again, at seeing that his apprehension of her meaning had so far outrun the reality, that any minor act of vengeance or precaution would seem moderate, "I meant not to slay him. You men are so vehement and violent in all your passions, that the death of your adversary is the only thing you think of. I am not so bloodthirsty, nor do I speak from anger, Rochester. I could pardon him all that he has said of me, did it not show me that he is dangerous to you, and that, if he be not removed, his presence near the King will be the great stumbling-block which will throw down our hopes and wishes. He must be sent to the Tower, or into banishment."
"But there must be some pretext," said Rochester. "He cannot be punished without a cause."