Nick took his place by the side of the chauffeur. As the car started, on its way to the detective’s home, Nick tried to compose his mind and comprehend the strange happenings that had brought to him the heir to the Milmarsh millions.
“‘There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, rough hew them how we will,’” he quoted softly to himself.
CHAPTER XXI.
ANOTHER KINK.
Although Howard Milmarsh had declared that he was not much hurt, and soon would be well again, it was found that his injuries were more serious than either he or Nick Carter had believed at first.
The patient was kept at Nick’s home that night, and the detective’s own physician, the famous Doctor Grant, came in. He gave the sick man a long examination. Then, after prescribing a sedative, he beckoned Nick one side, for a private report.
“The truth is, Carter, his mind has gone.”
The detective started and a look of genuine horror appeared in his face.
“Do you mean that he is permanently insane?”
“No. I wouldn’t say that. But the blow on the head, with the excitement and mental strain, have been too much for his brain. It has produced a condition of aphasia, or loss of memory, which makes him unable to talk in a coherent manner, simply because he can’t think.”