The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

be an excruciating position), making sure her bucket’s contents were properly secured. By Reynie’s count she’d done this five times already, and he suspected she was tolerating Sticky’s speech by ignoring it.

At that very moment, however, the speech drew to a sudden, unexpected close, and Sticky — mumbling something indistinct about having a rest — turned onto his side to face the bulkhead. He was burning with embarrassment, for it had just sunk in to him how long he’d been talking and how pompous he must have sounded.

Sticky would have found such behavior distasteful in another person, and indeed it was a far cry from how he used to act. Lately, though, he couldn’t seem to help himself. It was hard to resist the pleasure he felt when others were impressed by him — and they did so often seem impressed. (Cannonball’s exuberant demonstrations of approval, for instance, had made Sticky feel positively rapturous.) And yet, when his efforts fell flat — when he bored people to death or, worse, when he was proven wrong — he either flew out in anger or withered in humiliation. He envied Reynie’s calm, imperturbable manner, to say nothing of Kate’s unshakable bravado and good cheer. Even Constance inspired some jealousy, for at least she had an excuse for her behavior. Sticky covered his face with his pillow. Was he really jealous of a three-year-old? There must be something seriously wrong with him.

There wasn’t anything seriously wrong with Sticky, though. The truth, which Sticky didn’t quite understand, was that pride was a new feeling for him — something he’d rarely experienced before last year’s mission — and it was simply taking some getting used to.

“Look who’s awake,” said Reynie, who had noticed Constance blinking her eyes and looking around with a disturbed expression. “It’s okay, Constance. You dozed —”

“Someone’s coming!” Constance hissed. Her tone was so unnerving that Reynie and Sticky sat bolt upright, and Kate sprang up into a defensive crouch.

“Easy, Constance,” Reynie said, his heart racing. “You must have been dreaming. You’re safe here with —”

A knock sounded at the door. They all froze.

“Hello?” a man’s voice called. It was Captain Noland.

Kate looked wonderingly at Constance. “How did you . . . ? Never mind, we’ll talk about it later.” She opened the door.

Captain Noland stood in the passage holding a small chest. His face was drawn with fatigue, but he gave the children a friendly smile as he came in. “Well, my friends, I regret the circumstances — I’d hoped to entertain you in my own cabin — but regardless, I’m pleased to join you at last. How are you enjoying the Shortcut? She’s a mighty fast ship, isn’t she?”

As the children responded with polite enthusiasm, the captain knelt to open the chest. It was tidily packed with a miniature folding table, a serving tray, a coffee pot and coffee cups, a bottle of cream, and two tins of sweets. Captain Noland set up the table and laid out the treats, and Reynie and Sticky climbed down from their top bunks, taking care not to upset the little table, for there was scarcely room on the floor now to step. Indeed, when all four children were seated on the two lower bunks, their knees pressed against the table’s edge, and their feet were awkwardly intermingled below. Keeping his elbows close to his side, Captain Noland smiled apologetically and handed each of them a cup. “So long as no one moves very much, I believe we’ll be fine. Ever had navy coffee?”

“What is it?” asked Kate, eyeing the pitch-black liquid in the pot with suspicion.

“It’s brewed with a pinch of salt in the grounds,” Sticky answered. “The salt’s supposed to cut the bitterness.”

“So you’re familiar with it!” said Captain Noland with an approving look at Sticky. With careful movements he filled the cups, including one for himself. “Don’t worry, Kate, you can’t actually taste the salt. Just good, strong coffee.” The children took turns stirring cream into their cups, and the captain leaned against the cabin door and waited politely. When at last they were ready, he toasted their health — as if they were drinking champagne rather than coffee — then closed his eyes and took a long, slow sip, obviously savoring it.

Reynie drank from his own cup and almost choked. It was hard to say whether the coffee tasted more like gasoline or cough syrup. Luckily Captain Noland still had his eyes closed and didn’t see Reynie grimace as he forced the foul stuff down. He shot a warning look at the others (it was too late for Kate, who was trying to twist her horrified expression into something that resembled a smile) and in a slightly strangled voice said, “So you were in the navy, Captain?”

“The navy’s where I met Nicholas Benedict, in fact,” said Captain Noland. “He and I — why, what’s the matter?”

Captain Noland had opened his eyes to discover the children staring at him uncomfortably. They had agreed they must tell him the truth or risk getting nowhere, but now that the time had come, they were anxious. What if he decided to send them back home on the first plane from Lisbon? Or what if he wanted to help them but couldn’t? What if there were no more clues to be had?

“We need to speak with you about Mr. Benedict,” Reynie said after a pause. “He’s —”

Just then, the cabin seemed to lurch. The children nearly fell from their seats, and the coffee pot and serving tray slid across the table. Captain Noland leaped forward and caught them. The cabin righted itself just as quickly as it had gone askew.

“We’re heading into some rough seas, I’m afraid,” said Captain Noland, as if the children could possibly have failed to notice. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing very serious, and it won’t last the night. By morning we’ll . . . Wait, what were you going to tell me about Nicholas?”

It took a few minutes for the children to explain, and by the time they had finished Captain Noland was sitting on the little chest, his chin in his hands, looking quite stricken. “I can’t believe it. He called me from Lisbon only last week. He said he and Number Two were having a fine trip.”

“They’re in Lisbon, then?” Reynie asked hopefully.

“They were,” said Captain Noland. “They were leaving that afternoon. He called to make sure everything was properly arranged. You see, I’d invited Nicholas to be a guest on this maiden voyage months ago, and he asked if I would bring you children as guests instead. I was happy to do so. In fact, I was to play a role in the surprise he planned for you.”

“How so?” Kate asked.