Marcantonio looked at her one moment, and then sprang to his feet. At that instant he could have killed Julius Batiscombe with his hands, as perhaps Diana herself would have done. She seized his hand as he stood, and drew him toward her.
"No," she said, understanding his thought, "remember your promise. You must do nothing now--except write the note."
But Carantoni was in no condition to write notes. He broke away, and walked wildly up and down the room, wringing his hands together, and muttering furious ejaculations. He was too angry, too much surprised, too much horrified at his own stupidity throughout the affair to be able to think clearly. Diana sat motionless on the sofa, as angry, perhaps, as he, in her own way, but full of pity and sympathy for him, and trying to devise some means of helping him. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and her eyes followed him anxiously in his quick, irregular walk. And as she looked he seemed gradually to fall under her influence, and went and sat in a deep chair away from her, and buried his face.
Then Diana rose, and went to the table in the corner and arranged the light, and wrote, herself, the note to Batiscombe, leaving a blank at the foot for a signature. She looked round, and saw her brother watching her.
"Come, dear boy," she said kindly, "I have written the note for you; sign it, and I will see that he gets it in the morning."
Marcantonio rose and came to her with uncertain steps. He put his hand on her shoulder a moment. Then he fell on his knees beside her, and pressed her close to him, silently. Presently he rose, she put the pen between his fingers, still trembling with his anger, and he signed the note as best he could. She put it into an envelope, sealed it, and directed it to Julius Batiscombe.
"He will be out of the house before we are up," she said in a tone of certainty. "Go to bed, dear boy, and never let him trouble your peace again."
"But I will trouble his peace," answered Marcantonio, bending his smooth brows.
"We will see about that afterwards," said Diana. "If you think best to fight him, I will not oppose you; but we will talk about it. We cannot talk now. Good-night my dear, dear brother."