"In the name of your King----"
"I haven't got one. I'm Scotch by birth and name, cosmopolitan by choice. I was the admiral of the Indiana navy, but since the revolution, I am a wanderer on the face of the earth."
"Aye," Gowrie unconsciously stretched for the drink, and filled himself a full glass, "we're beginning tae unnerstan the seetuation, my mon. Yer a gipsy o' sorts."
"A gipsy of the sea."
"An' a black-hearted villain at that."
"You'll find me so if you don't keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr. Gowrie. Permit me to remind you that you are drinking my whisky, and therefore cannot afford to vilify your host."
"I'm here against ma wull."
"Yes. And here you will stop until you give me certain information regarding the murder of Sir Simon Tedder."
"I ken naethin'," said the old man sullenly.
"Aye, but ye ken muckle," mocked Kyles, "I can talk the Scottice tongue as well as you, sir. You said at the 'Marsh Inn' that you wanted to have a crack, so I brought you here to have it."