Men and women are
a means to an end, and that end, the furtherance of his own wealth, his
own future. The epitome of prehistoric selfishness, is it not? Club the
next man that comes along, and steal from his dead body all that he has
worked for. Oh, a pretty sort of a tale this is, I promise you!
"What's that, my lord? What has the Frozen Flame to do with all this?
Why, the answer to that is as simple as A.B.C. The Frozen Flames, or that
most natural of phenomena, marsh-gas--of which I won't weary you with an
explanation--arose from that part of the Fens where the rotting
vegetation was at its worst. What more natural, then, than that this
human fiend should endeavour to shape even this thing to his own ends?
The villagers had always been superstitious of these lights, but their
notice had never been particularly called to them before the story of the
Frozen Flames had been carefully spread from mouth to mouth by Brellier's
tools.
"Then one man, braver than the rest, ventured forth--and never came back.
The story gained credence, even with the more educated few.
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