“Then two angels, it must be; and think of another side to that if you can.”
“I can only think of God, Bonbec.”
He looked at her, and laughed again; but suddenly was silent.
That night Fanchette, preparing her mistress for bed, made an impromptu statement, quite innocently:
“I have put the pot of basil in your Highness’s chambre-à-coucher.”
Isabella, guilty of an involuntary start, paused a moment to recover her self-possession.
“What pot of basil, girl?”
“O! I thought your Highness would know. It was delivered as from M. le chevalier, with his respectful compliments.”
“I recollect now. M. Tiretta, uncertain of his movements, begged me to hold the stakes, as it were, between himself and Aquaviva. You remember the challenge?”
Indeed, that explanation of his gift had been offered to the Infanta by M. Tiretta himself; and not as a contingent one. If there was to be any question of subterfuge, the guilt should rest with him.