"
"What suggested this plan to you?"
Cleek smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
"Why, I had a theory, you see. And, like you, I wanted to find out if
Merriton were telling the truth about that other light he had seen or
not. This was the only way. Marsh-gas was there in plenty, though there
is no heat from the tiny flames, as you know, from which fact, no doubt,
our friend Brellier derived the very theatrical name for them, but the
light of which Merriton spoke I took to be something bigger than that.
And I had noticed, too, that here and there among the flames danced
brilliant patches that seemed, well--_more_ than natural. So our
penknives did the trick. Dollops was digging, when something suddenly
exploded, and shot up into our faces with a volume of gassy smoke. We
sprang back, throwing our arms up to shield our eyes, and after the fumes
had subsided returned to our task. The penknife had struck a bladder
filled with gas, which, sunk into the ground, produced the larger lights,
one of which Sir Nigel had seen upon the night that Wynne disappeared.
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