The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey

“Well, that was easy,” said Kate, putting the letter away inside her bucket. “Now all we have to do is get there!”

“You can leave that to me,” said Captain Noland. “I’ll radio ahead to have a taxi waiting at the docks. We’ll waste no time that way. Joe and I will change into civilian clothes — the better to avoid notice — and accompany you to the castle.”

“What do you mean by civilian clothes?” asked Constance. “Aren’t you a civilian?”

“Ha!” cried Captain Noland, scratching his beard. “An old habit, Constance. I was in the navy for so long, I tend to forget things have changed. I only meant to say we won’t wear our uniforms.”

“That reminds me,” said Kate. “Did you say that you and Mr. Benedict met in the navy?”

“It’s a fact,” said Captain Noland. “We were in naval intelligence together. Of course, this was very long ago . . . Has Nicholas never told you?” Seeing their blank faces, the captain chuckled and shook his head. “It doesn’t surprise me. He couldn’t have told you much without seeming to brag — and Nicholas is anything but a braggart. I’m perfectly happy to brag on him, though. I used to joke that he saved a hundred lives every morning before breakfast, and the truth wasn’t far from that. We were engaged in a terrible war, you see — a long-forgotten war that no one likes to talk about now — and Nicholas was our best code breaker. Whenever an enemy transmission was intercepted, we brought it straight to him. He usually cracked the code within minutes, if not sooner. Our soldiers avoided any number of surprise attacks thanks to Nicholas.”

The children grinned, pleased to hear good things said about Mr. Benedict. In his absence they found themselves especially eager for details about him — as if by gathering details they might, in some small way, bring him back.

“Didn’t you say he saved your life once, too?” asked Reynie.

Captain Noland had just slugged the rest of his coffee and stood to open the chest. He took out the coffee pot and refilled his cup. “Actually, Nicholas saved my life more than once. The first time, we’d been sent on a secret assignment. It was an unusually important assignment, too — otherwise they wouldn’t have sent Nicholas, who never did field work. His narcolepsy might put him at risk, you see. Well, we managed to complete the assignment, but in the process we were captured by the enemy. I should say that I was captured. Nicholas was not. But in order to rescue me he turned himself over to my captors.”

Captain Noland settled onto the chest again. “I’m sure you’re thinking what I was thinking. How on earth did he hope to save me by sacrificing himself? Well, that was when I discovered that Nicholas is the most persuasive man in the world. Mysteriously so. Over the next two days, he spoke with every officer in the enemy headquarters. If he couldn’t convince one officer of what he was saying, he would switch tactics, arguing that a different officer ought to be sent in to speak with him. One way or another, he always succeeded, and by the end of the second day he’d found just the right things to say to just the right people, and had convinced our enemy that we should be let go. To this day, I can’t quite believe it.”

“That’s amazing!” Kate cried. “How did he possibly manage it?”

“I can’t say for sure, but I think part of the answer is that people sense something in Nicholas that makes them trust him. And of course that’s with good reason. Compared to Nicholas, even the best of men are untrustworthy.”

Reynie felt a sudden, unexpected twinge of suspicion. This last statement of the captain’s sounded rather like a justifi-cation, as if one could be untrustworthy and still be considered among “the best of men.” What was more, the captain’s expression had shifted subtly in a way that Reynie couldn’t quite interpret. Perhaps he simply felt jealous of Mr. Benedict’s trustworthy character — or of other people’s perception of it. That could be a natural feeling for a good man who wished he were more trustworthy. Still, the thought made Reynie uneasy.

Sticky, meanwhile, was asking Captain Noland how else Mr. Benedict had saved his life, and Reynie tried to set aside his suspicions and listen. He did like Captain Noland, after all. And if Mr. Benedict trusted him, shouldn’t Reynie?

“He saved me once again by saying the right thing to the right person,” Captain Noland said. “This time the person was me. The war had just ended, and Nicholas was leaving the navy to return to his research. I was thinking of leaving the navy myself, for I was extremely miserable half the time. I’d grown up on ships — my father was a merchant sailor — but by the end of this war I felt I’d missed my calling. How else was I to explain my feeling depressed so much of the time?

“When I told him this, Nicholas laughed so much he fell asleep. I was fairly annoyed, I can tell you. But then he always did like to laugh, and when he woke up he apologized sincerely and said, ‘Phil, it isn’t being on ships that makes you miserable. It’s getting off them. You’re always sad when you head for port, and you’re sad the entire time you’re on land — except for the day you set sail again. The worst thing you could do would be to stay ashore.’

“Well, this was so obvious a child should have seen it, and I hate to say, I almost resented Nicholas for making me look so dumb. But there it was: he knew me better than I knew myself. As long as I’m at sea, I’m happy — which is why this maiden voyage is so important. I can’t afford to lose my reputation as a sea captain. Sending me to shore would be like sending me to my doom.”

“Why did you ever leave the navy, then?” asked Constance.

“I felt I had no choice. They had long wanted to promote me, which seems nice enough until you realize that a promotion would have sent me to a comfortable, highly respected post — on land. Torture! I’d always found a way out of it, but finally they insisted. That was when I left the navy and applied for my current position, which seemed perfect. The Shortcut will be at sea almost constantly — it loads and unloads faster than other ships, so it spends less time in port — and as I told the owners . . .”

Captain Noland trailed off, looking sheepish. “I’ve gone on far too long about your poor old captain. It was Nicholas you wanted to hear about, and rightly so. A better man I’ve never known — and this despite all manner of ill fortunes, as you children know. To lose his parents so young, and then to struggle so mightily with his narcolepsy . . . I don’t mean just the tendency to fall asleep at odd times, but, oh, the nightmares!”

Captain Noland rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He looked as though he had endured a night of bad dreams himself. “Nicholas and I shared a ship cabin more than once,” he said, “and the cries of terror he uttered in his sleep were enough to keep me wide-eyed and shivering for hours. He suffered these visitations from phantom creatures almost every night — the Old Hag, I remember, was the worst, such a dreadful hallucination I hated even to hear about her — yet during the day you’d never guess what he’d been through. Always cheerful, always brave. That’s Nicholas. Still, he did hope that one day — Wait!”

Captain Noland stiffened so suddenly he spilled coffee on himself. “To think!” he cried. “Oh, where has my mind gone? To think I almost forgot!” And looking at the children he said, “Forgive me. I hadn’t realized it until this