— Why is the rum gone?
— One, because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two, that signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me. Do you really think that there is even the slightest chance — that they won't see it?
— But why is the rum gone?
— What's your purpose in Port Royal, Mr. Smith?
— And no lies.
— Why, then I confess. It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder, and otherwise pilfer my weaselly black guts
— I said «no lies!»
— I think he's telling the truth.
— If he were telling the truth, he wouldn't have told us.
— Unless of course you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you.