He was courteously received, and asked his business.
‘My business is a painful one,’ Bradley began. ‘I wish to know if an English lady named Craik has joined your church?’
‘She did return to the true faith,’ replied the priest, raising his eyes to heaven, ‘and for her return the Holy Virgin and the Saints be praised!’
‘And now—where is she now?’
With painful expectancy he waited for the priest to answer.
‘Now! now, Signor, she is dead!’ was the reply.
Bradley heard, and fell prone upon the floor.
On recovering from his swoon, Bradley found himself surrounded by several priests, one of whom was sprinkling his face with water, while another was beating the palms of his hands. Pale and trembling, he struggled to his feet, and gazed wildly around him, until his eyes fell upon the face of the aged official whom he had just accosted. He endeavoured to question him again, but the little Italian at his command seemed to have forsaken him, and he stammered and gasped in a kind of stupefaction.
At this moment he heard a voice accost him in excellent English; a softly musical voice, full of beautiful vibrations.
‘I am sorry, sir, at your indisposition. If you will permit me, I will conduct you back to your hotel.’