The Mysterious Benedict Society

Kate jerked away from the window, and Sticky, alarmed, leaped backward. He tumbled onto Reynie and Constance — who luckily had covered their heads, expecting whatever it was to come crashing into the room.

“Sorry!” Kate whispered sheepishly. “It’s all right. I thought he was staring right back at me. But he’s too far away for that, of course. The spyglass makes him seem closer.”

Frazzled, the others gathered themselves up.

Kate was looking out the window again. “He really is staring in this direction, though. Oh, it gives me the creeps. Surely he’s not looking at our window? I have to remember it’s dark in here. He can’t see me.”

“Who are you talking about, Kate?” Reynie asked nervously.

“A Recruiter. He’s standing down under the edge of the bridge.” She lowered the spyglass and squinted into the darkness. “No wonder Sticky didn’t see him. Without the spyglass he just looks like a shadow among the bridge pilings.”

“Maybe the message was a warning,” Constance said. “To let us know an enemy was out there watching.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Constance!” Sticky said impatiently. “If they’d seen him there, they wouldn’t have sent any message at all.”

“You don’t make any sense,” Constance snapped. “They shouldn’t have sent you at all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t know who you think you are —”

“Easy, you two,” Reynie said. “A message broadcast just started, didn’t you notice? It’s making us cranky.”

It was true. Though the messages were unpleasant as ever — and came more frequently now that Mr. Curtain had some sessions recorded — the children were getting used to them. Sometimes they didn’t immediately recognize the reason for their bursts of fussiness.

Sticky took a breath. “He’s right. Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” said Constance, though everyone noticed she didn’t apologize herself.

Kate was still watching the Recruiter. Exasperated, she said, “Why won’t that man leave? Doesn’t he know we have a secret message to receive?”

“Maybe he does,” Reynie said with misgiving, “and is waiting to see it.”

Sticky rubbed his head in agitation. “Do you really think so? You think we’ve been found out? They’re spying on us now?”

“I don’t know, but something seems extremely fishy about him standing in the shadows all alone. Recruiters are never alone — they’re always in pairs. And he obviously doesn’t want to be spotted. In fact, from this angle, we’re about the only ones who could see him down. . . . Wait a minute.”

“You think he wants us to see him, don’t you?” Kate said, raising her spyglass again. “He really is looking this way! Just standing there not moving. And here’s something weird I didn’t notice before — his hair is wet, but his clothes are dry. What do you think he’s up to?”

Reynie thought he knew. “Does he remind you of anybody, Kate?”

“Does he remind me . . . ? Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t see it!” She rapped her forehead with her knuckles. “It’s Milligan!”

“Milligan’s here?” Sticky cried, unable to contain his excitement.

Reynie grinned. “That’s what they meant by ‘Know Thine Enemy.’ And that’s why they didn’t respond to our second message — they had to make sure we looked for him. Sticky, let’s send a message that says, ‘Enemy Known.’”

Sticky sent the message.

No sooner had he done so than the light in the woods began flashing a message with extreme rapidity: Go at once. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

The children leaped to their feat, their hearts racing. What in the world? Had they been found out? The boys threw on their shoes, Kate retrieved her rope from the ceiling, and Constance climbed onto her back. Sticky took one last glance out the window — “It’s still flashing ‘Hurry!’” — and the children flew from the room, down the darkened corridor, and out into the night.

They had stared out their window at night enough to know where the darkest shadows lay, and it was to the darkest shadows they kept. Avoiding the plaza, where they would be terribly exposed, they bolted quick as cats along the bottom of the hill by the dormitory, dashed across a stretch of crumbling shale, then made straight for the water. With a final scramble down a rocky incline, they came to the island shore. If they kept low they would not be easily seen; the incline would shield them from view of the Institute. Keeping low, then, and stepping carefully on the rocky shore, the children made their way toward the bridge.

It had stopped raining, but the night remained cold and windy. Before the children had gone half the distance to the bridge, the wind began to carry a strong, spicy scent to their noses. The odor of a familiar cologne. They stopped and looked around, seeing nothing. Then a shadow detached itself from the rocky incline and took on the general form — if not the exact appearance — of Milligan. He certainly smelled like a Recruiter, Reynie thought, but for some reason he seemed un-Recruiter-like. He was dressed in a fine suit; he wore watches on both wrists; and his hair, though quite wet as Kate had mentioned, was perfectly combed. So what was it?

It was the smile, Reynie realized, or rather the lack of one. He’d never been near a Recruiter who wasn’t smiling, and certainly not one who looked inconsolably sad.

“I’m sorry not to have fetched you myself,” Milligan said, “but this was the safer course. A Recruiter on the shore alone may or may not draw suspicion, but a Recruiter in the student dormitory most certainly would.”

“What’s going on, Milligan?” Kate asked.

“I’m to take you away,” Milligan said.