"I fear you have been suffering from my thoughtlessness, friend Peter. Let me recommend a draft of this aqua vitae. 'Tis excellent for settling the stomach."
"Ja," nodded Peter.
"We shall presently have a chicken broiled over a slow fire," pursued Murray. "A few slices of the breast should be easy for your digestion and assist in the filling of the void which our rough fare on the brig was unable to satisfy.
"But Robert and I were discussing a question of honor. Pardon me if I return to it."
His large face, with its powerful, craggy features, glowed with the radiance of an intense personal conviction.
"What is honor? Or dishonor? Certes, here we have a call for close reasoning. No hasty generalities can dismiss so vexed a problem, which hath consumed the attention of gentlemen since gentility's institution."
"I should call it dishonorable to assure your grandnephew that you had kidnaped him for desire of his aid and to make his fortune, when actually you intended only to employ him as a hostage to further your personal schemes," I said deliberately.
And if I spoke restrainedly 'twas by no mean effort, for inwardly I seethed with resentment.
"The situation is susceptible to the interpretation which you place upon it," he admitted evenly. "Yet a reasonable temperament must concede 'twas necessary for me to place the consummation of my project before the claims of kinship. And though you appear not to be disposed to accept my assertions for fact, I will say once and for all that my intentions toward you are benevolent and affectionate—and this despite the contumely you have heaped upon me with no regard for the disparity of our ages."
I was nonplussed, but dissatisfied.