He lied, like the brazen, self-seeking adulator that he was, and for which he should have been soundly whipped.  Her nose was a shade too long, her chin a shade too short to admit, even remotely, of such comparisons.  Still, that she had a certain gracious beauty, as I have said, it is not mine to deny.  There was an almost childish freshness in her face, an almost childish innocence in her fine gray eyes, and, above all, a golden and resplendent hair as brought to mind the tresses of God’s angels.

That fair child—­for no more than a child was she—­drew a chair to my bedside.

There she sate herself, whilst I thanked her for her concern on my behalf, and answered that I was doing well enough, and should be abroad again in a day or two.

“Brave lad,” she murmured, patting my hand, which lay upon the coverlet, as though she had been my sister and I anything but a Fool, “count me ever your friend hereafter, for what you have done for Madonna Paola.  For although it was my own family you thwarted, yet you did so to serve one who is more to me than any family, more than any sister could be.”

“What I did, Madonna,” I answered, “I did with the better heart since it opened out a way that was barred me, solved me a riddle which my Lord, your Illustrious brother, set me—­one that otherwise might well have overtaxed my wits.”

“Ah?” Her gray eyes fell on me in a swift and searching glance, a glance that revealed to the full their matchless beauty.  Care seemed of a sudden to have aged her face.  The question of her eyes needed no translation into words.

“The Lord Cardinal of Valencia entrusted me with a letter for you, in answer to your own,” I informed her, and from underneath my pillow I drew the package, which during Magistri’s absence I had abstracted from my boot that I might have it in readiness when she came.

She sighed as she took it, and a wistful smile invested the corners of her mouth.

“I had hoped he would have found better employment for you,” she said.

“His Excellency promised that he would more fitly employ me in the future did I discharge this errand with secrecy and despatch.  But by aiding Madonna Paola I have burned my boats against returning to claim the redemption of that promise; though had it not been for Madonna Paola and what I did, I scarce know how I should have penetrated here to you.”

She broke the seal, and rising crossed to the window, where she stood reading the letter, her back toward me.  Presently I heard a stifled sob.  The letter was crushed in her hand.  Then moments passed ere she confronted me once more.  But her manner as all changed; she was agitated and preoccupied, and for all that she forced herself to talk of me and my affairs, her mind was clearly elsewhere.  At last she left me, nor did I see her again during the time I was confined to my bed.