"You shall know hereafter," replied Lady Essex: "what I have said, is sufficient for the present."
"Nay, but dear lady," urged her infamous confederate, "I fear Dr. Foreman may not like to engage in the matter without knowing who the person is. I have no curiosity, for my part."
"Why should he hesitate?" demanded the Countess, sharply; "one man must, to him, be the same as another, if what you have said of him be true. The butcher asks not where the ox he slays was bred or fattened, what green meadows fed it, from what streams it drank. The blow that ends it is all he has to think of; and so let it be here."
"I doubt that will not satisfy him, my Lady," said Mrs. Turner; "there are some great men he might not like to deal with--any of his kind friends and patrons, would give him pain to injure. Perhaps this very gentleman may have been favourable to him--may have employed him in things of the same kind."
"'Tis not unlikely," answered the Countess, with a gloomy smile; "but, if he have, he will employ him no farther. The walls of a prison are round him, from which he will ne'er pass out alive. However, as your friend cannot penetrate into the Tower, to tell the secret to him who must die; and as he dare not, I think, betray it to any other, the man is Sir Thomas Overbury;" and she fixed her beautiful eyes steadfastly upon the countenance of Mrs. Turner, as if to read the effect which her words produced upon the woman's mind.
It was not such as she expected; for the passion in her own heart gave even her victim higher importance than he had possessed in the eyes of others. "What! Sir Thomas Overbury!" exclaimed Mrs. Turner, in some surprise; "the friend of my Lord of Rochester?"
"He was his friend," replied the Countess, with marked emphasis; "but now----"
She left the sentence unconcluded, and Mrs. Turner exclaimed, "Ah! I see how it is; I understand it all, now! Such friends may become dangerous, Lady. He may have secrets of my Lord of Rochester's, which must not be betrayed; perhaps, some of the King's, too."
"Perhaps so," answered the Countess; "all we know, however, is, that he lies a close prisoner in the Tower, by the King's own order; that no man--except such as have licence from his Majesty himself--is permitted to speak with him, on pain of high displeasure; and that it were better for all parties that such things were brought to an end. See to it, good Mrs. Turner, see to it! and come up to me at Northampton House to-night at supper time. The Earl will then be in the country; and you will find Lord Rochester and myself alone. If you have seen this Doctor Foreman, then, you may bring him with you; and so, farewell!"
Thus saying, the Countess left her, hurried to the barge, and seating herself by her lover's side, was rowed back to Northampton House. But, as she went, she vainly endeavoured to assume the light gaiety which she had displayed as they came; for the terrible conversation which she had just held with her instrument still cast its shadow upon her. While the act was merely a matter of vague contemplation, she had felt it but little; but, as with those who approach to climb a mountain, which at a distance looked soft and easy of ascent, she found the task more fearful than she had anticipated when she came to deal with the details. Even her bold and resolute spirit felt oppressed with the first steps to the terrible crime that was to be committed; the very lowness and pettiness of the means to be employed had something strangely horrible to her imagination which, she could not shake off. She sat silent and gloomy then as the boat glided over the water; and Rochester easily divined that preparations were already made for the dark act they meditated.