Thou moanest an old incantation, thou troublest earth with thy
cries....
Ah, God, if the bones should hear thee, and join once again,
and arise!—Home: a Poem.
As the days passed, Bradley found his state of suspense and anxiety intolerable. Day after day he had hoped to hear from Alma, until at length disappointment culminated in despair.
He then determined he should know with certainty what had become of her, and resolved to go to Milan.
What he had seen at the séance had impressed him more than he would admit to himself. He could not believe that any evil had happened—he would not believe it without the most positive evidence of the fact. So he said to himself one hour, and the next his heart grew sick with an uncontrollable dread; and he refused to hope that the revelation of the séance was a delusion.
He left his home and proceeded to the station in the former mood, but the train had hardly moved from the platform when his despair seized him, and if he could he would have relinquished the journey. Alternating thus between hope and despair, he travelled without a break, and in due course he reached Milan.
His inquiries about Alma were promptly answered.
The beautiful and wealthy English lady was well known. She had, until quite recently, been the occupant of a splendid suite of apartments in the best quarter of the city; but she had gone.