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.
Bradley heard all this, and almost savagely he repeated after his informant, an old Italian waiter who spoke English well, the word ‘Gone!’
‘Gone where?’ he demanded. ‘You must know where she has gone to?’
‘Have me taken to the house she occupied when here,’ Bradley ordered; and he was driven to the house Alma had dwelt in.
There also he failed to learn Alina’s address. All that was known was that she had gone to Rome; that her departure had been sudden, and that she had said she would not return to Milan.
Dismissing the carriage that had brought him, he walked back to his hotel.
It was night; the cool breeze from the Alps was delightfully refreshing after the sultry heat of the day; the moon was full and the fair old city was looking its fairest, but these things Bradley heeded not. Outward beauty he could not see, for all his mind and soul was dark--the ancient palaces, the glorious Cathedral, the splendid Carrara marble statue of Leonardo, and the bronze one of Cavour, were passed unnoticed and uncared for. One thing only was in his mind--to get to Rome to find Alma. One thing was certain: she had left Milan in good health, and must surely be safe still.
‘Ah!’ he said to himself, ‘when did she leave Milan? Fool that I am, not to have learned,’ and, almost running, he returned to the house and inquired.