‘Certainly not,’ said Mrs. Piozzi Smith.
But Bradley, not heeding the interruption, still watched the girl and grasped her passive hand.
‘Answer me! Tell me the truth!’
‘How can I tell you?’ answered Eustasia. ‘I was tranced, and my spirit was far away. I don’t even know what happened.’
With a contemptuous gesture, Bradley released her, and walked from the room. All his soul revolted at the recent experience; yet mingled with his angry scepticism was a certain vague sense of dread. If, after all, he had not been deceived, and something had happened to Alma; if, as the séance seemed to suggest, she was no longer living! The very thought almost turned his brain. Dazed and terrified, he made his way down the dark passage and left the house.
No sooner had he gone than Eustasia uttered a low cry, threw her arms into the air, and sank swooning upon the floor.
Her brother raised her in a moment, and placed her upon the sofa. It was some minutes before she recovered. When she did so, and gazed wildly around, there was a tiny fleck of red upon her lips, like blood.
She looked up in her brother’s face, and began laughing hysterically.
‘Eustasia! For God’s sake, control yourself! You’ll make yourself downright ill!’
Presently the hysterical fit passed away.