"Quite the contrary, my friend," said the Master. "The proof is before you. Beneath and around me, as you see, there is nothing but rocks and water. As you know, I have not stirred from this spot for years, and could not do so if I wished, for I have no vessel. Yet I live here with some fifty companions, without asking a single thing from any one on your island. Besides, what is there in my theory that is incredible? Are not the constituents of bread, flesh and fruit already present in the rocks, the air and the ocean? You are a scientific man and, of course, know well that it is as I say. In truth, the only secret in the business is how to hasten Nature's tardy process of the transformation of matter. That is my discovery. Just look here for a moment. In this vessel you see a black, sticky fluid. You may tell it by its smell. It is tar. And here before us is a heated furnace. Now, every chemist knows that by means of fire and sal-ammoniac he can produce ice. I now place the vessel in the flue of the furnace—so. We will take our watches in our hands and count the time. In seventy-seven seconds the transformation will be complete. . . . Let us open the aperture. Look at the dish now—and taste it too. It is a pineapple ice."
"It is a pineapple ice"
A shiver ran through the reverend gentleman's whole body at the mere sight of the mysterious delicacy.
"Taste it! Never!" he cried in horror. "Such things are not to be done without the help of the foul Fiend himself!"
"Without that, indeed, it were impossible," said the Master calmly. "Everything of that nature is done only with the aid of the powers of Darkness. But, my friend, have you any special objection to them?"
"Have I any objection to the powers of Darkness?" exclaimed the horrified ecclesiastic.
"Ah! You have, I see. Well, well; that's a somewhat antiquated notion—a relic of those times when the theory prevailed that the earth was governed by God. But nowadays we have changed all that. It is an absolute necessity for all species of life on this apple-skin of an earthcrust to have the forces of Hell immediately beneath them. The breath of Heaven chills and stiffens everything. It is the agents of Satan that produce everything—trees, fruit, beast and man."
"But, my dear sir," expostulated the clergyman, "these are strange geognostic theories! Notwithstanding your assertions, man, at least, is in no wise the work of Satan."
"And why not?" demanded the Master. "Man is so fashioned that he must freeze to death unless he murder some other brute that happens to have a fur skin. To appease his hunger, also, he must slay some other animal. And his thirst—does he not even thirst for the blood of his fellow man—of his own brother? Could such a monster, think you, be fashioned in any other region than the place of perdition itself?"