He had a sound brain, nourished by a well sustained body; his intelligence was apt and rapid, but these unheard-of complications demanded a morbid analysis of which he was incapable.
On this basis, however, as his uncle had proceeded, Robert had been able to develop a suggestion; he could offer that, at least.
In reply, therefore, to the feverish questions of his uncle, the young man said:
“In so far as I am able to see, your disasters have narrowed your range of discernment. They are too recent; they affect you too nearly. Under such conditions we take counsel of our prejudices instead of our judgment. Your thoughts are apt to return to the central feature of your loss. It is not natural to expect one to dismiss such a consideration in order to make way for others which might help you in your search.
“On my part, the incident is new and stimulating, but the ideas it awakens lead to nothing. However, I should not regard the case as impossible until I had tried at least one means of solution.”
“What is that?” demanded Raikes, diverted, if not convinced, by the sensible observations of his nephew.
“You have heard of Gratz?” inquired Robert.
“Of the secret service?”
“Yes.”
“Ah!” cried the old man; “to submit the case to him means another in the secret, with little prospect of advantage.”