The Buccaneers' Code (11 page)

“About as beautiful as my old socks,” said Charlie.

Hilary quite agreed with him. “I should write a letter to Admiral Curtis,” she said. “I'm sure he'd be interested to know that his new adviser is giving out orders behind his back.”

“I've already thought of that,” said Charlie. “Even if you write to him, he'll never get the letter. Who do you think opens Admiral Curtis's mail?”

As the
Pigeon
sailed south toward Nordholm, Hilary
did her best to squelch all thoughts of plotting pirate captains and villainous admirals. She spent a good deal of time trying to work on her Buccaneers' Code, though her notebook was still mostly empty. “Don't let another pirate frighten you,” she murmured, “even if he has two hundred supporters and a penchant for sending his enemies to a watery grave.” She tapped her fingers on the ship's wheel. “And don't read the
Picaroon
.”

“Also,” said the gargoyle, “never let a budgerigar sit on your head. His claws might get stuck in your hat.”

Miss Greyson poked her head out from between the bookshop shelves. “May I contribute some advice?” she asked. “Never let a pirate alphabetize your history books, for he's sure to make a mess of things.”

“Nonsense,” said Jasper. “I've always thought the alphabet was highly overrated.”

Hilary frowned. “I don't think I'm going to write any of these down.”

“Terror!” called Alice. She was leaning far over the ship's rail, and her petticoats flapped ferociously in the breeze. “Isn't that Tilbury Park ahead?”

Hilary squinted up at the great white house on the hill, with its starched-stiff columns and perfectly clipped hedges. She'd much preferred the way the grounds had looked when they'd been trampled by pirates. “I can sail further out to sea if you'd like,” she said. “We don't have to go anywhere near the place.”

“But that's not what I'd like at all!” said Alice. “Tilbury Park is where the Mutineers have been meeting, isn't it? I don't know about you, but I'm simply dying to know what Captain Blacktooth is building in that shipyard. If we listen at Mrs. Tilbury's windows, perhaps we can find out what he's got planned.”

Hilary had endured far too much time with the Mutineers as it was, and she wasn't sure she wanted to spend one more moment in their company. Still, if she could discover how Blacktooth was planning to defeat her in battle, she'd be far less likely to meet Pretty Jack Winter's fate. “The Mutineers might not even be meeting today,” Hilary said, “and we don't have much time to spare. But I suppose if we're lucky, we might learn something useful.”

“Oh, good!” Alice performed a twirl that would have drawn rapturous applause from the dance mistress at Miss Pimm's. “I knew you'd agree with me, Terror.”

Hilary laughed. “Well, I haven't said yes yet.”

“Hold on a moment,” said Charlie. He shoved aside the magic coin he'd been staring down for the past half hour. “Aren't the queen's guards watching the house?”

“There's only one guard,” said Hilary, “and he's apparently not the crispest wafer in the tin. Miss Pimm complains about him in every letter she writes to me. He's supposed to be keeping an eye on Mrs. Tilbury, but Miss Pimm says he spends most of his time playing dominoes and painting with oils.”

“In that case,” said Charlie, “I'm all for snooping. It sounds like a grand idea.”

“Are you sure it's allowed?” Miss Greyson asked. “By the pirate league, I mean. Will they disqualify you from battle if you're caught spying on your adversary?”

Hilary hadn't consulted the seventeenth edition of
Leading the League
, but she was fairly sure she knew what it had to say on the subject. “I don't think we'll be disqualified,” she said. “Lying and cheating are heartily encouraged, after all. Blacktooth's certainly done plenty of both already.”

“And we won't get caught,” the gargoyle added. “I can hop very quickly when I need to.”

“Then it's settled,” said Hilary. “We'll spy on Tilbury Park. But we won't be able to stay long, and we mustn't catch the Mutineers' attention. They may not be allowed to harm us before the battle, but if they have a chance to make us thoroughly miserable in the meantime, I'm quite sure they'll take it.”

“I
T'S NOT FAIR,”
the gargoyle complained. “When I said I wanted to come along, I didn't realize I'd be up a tree.”

“If it's any consolation, we're
all
up a tree,” Hilary told him, “and if you don't stop poking me, we might all fall out of it.”

“All right.” The gargoyle withdrew his tail from Hilary's side. “But I still say that a tree is no place for pirates. I think I just sat on a pinecone.”

“I'd prefer that to sitting in the Dungeons,” said Charlie, “which is where we'll all end up if the royal guard hears us. Have you spotted anything yet, Alice? I can hardly see my own nose from down here.”

On the branch above Hilary's, the pine needles rustled as Alice peered out toward Tilbury Park. “Someone's just lit a lantern in one of the upstairs rooms,” she whispered. “I suppose it might be a maid, but . . .” Alice scrambled higher into the tree, sending bits of bark raining down on Hilary's hat. “Terror, could you pass me your spyglass?”

Alice's hand appeared in front of Hilary's face, and Hilary stuck the spyglass into it. After a moment, both the hand and the spyglass vanished up into the branches. “That's better,” said Alice cheerfully. “Yes, there's a maid in the room, but I think she's talking to someone. . . . Ah! It's that grumpy old turnip herself.”

“You mean Mrs. Tilbury?”

“That's what I said, isn't it? Now the maid's leaving, and Mrs. Tilbury is taking something from a shelf.”

“A magic piece?” the gargoyle asked eagerly. “A stolen jewel? A fancy hat?”

Alice groaned. “It's a book. And she's settling down with it. It's probably one of those dreadfully dull Improving Works about budgets or household management.”

Charlie shifted on his tree limb. “I'm not spending an hour in a tree just to learn about the top ten ways to yell at your servants.”

“If Mrs. Tilbury spends her spare evenings reading Improving Works, she's even more villainous than I thought.” Hilary's legs were sore from crouching on her branch, and she wished she could move about, but she had one arm around the gargoyle and the other around the tree trunk, and she wasn't about to let go of either one. “In any case, if she's just going to sit there, there's no point in watching her. We might as well head back to the ship before Jasper and Miss Greyson change their minds and decide to join us.”

“Wait!” Alice whispered. “Someone's just come in! Quite a few someones, in fact. There's Philomena, and she's got two gentlemen with her. One's that horrid smug boy who sneered at you on Gunpowder Island, Terror.”

“Oliver Sanderson.” Hilary nearly forgot all about being sore. “Honestly, that boy is as persistent as a cockroach.”

“That,” said the gargoyle, “is an insult to cockroaches. They can be surprisingly pleasant once you get to know them.”

“Then they're a good deal nicer than Oliver.” Hilary's legs wobbled beneath her, and she wondered how much longer she could keep her feet balanced on the branch. “Who's the other gentleman, Alice?”

Alice sighed. “My infuriating brother, naturally. Oh, I wish I could hear what they're saying! I don't suppose they'll open the window on an evening as chilly as this
one. Perhaps I could shimmy up to the roof somehow, or—”

Quite without warning, Hilary's legs slid out from under her. “Blast!” she cried. She landed hard on the branch below, which made an alarming cracking noise as it met the seat of her breeches. Her hat snagged itself on a pine bough, dangled there for a moment, and fell to the ground.

“Terror!” Charlie whispered. “Are you all right?”

Hilary brushed her hair from her face; her fingers were sticky with sap. “I believe I've scraped my pride,” she said, “but at least I didn't drop the gargoyle. Oh, gargoyle, are you hurt?”

The gargoyle wriggled out from under her arm and twitched his ears experimentally. “I'm fine,” he said, “considering. But I don't think you should be worrying about me.” He jabbed his tail toward Tilbury Park. “You should be worrying about
him
.”

“Oh dear.” Hilary watched through the branches as a lantern bobbed across the lawn in their direction. “I suppose there's a royal guard attached to the end of that lantern.”

The gargoyle nodded. “I told you trees were trouble.”

“What's this?” The lantern stopped at the bottom of the tree, and the guard bent over to examine Hilary's hat. “How curious,” he said. “I don't believe hats usually grow on trees.”

Hilary held her breath and tried her best to be invisible.

“Aha!” cried the guard, peering up at them. “I thought I heard someone shout. What are you all doing up there? A tree is no place for pirates.”

“I told them that, sir,” the gargoyle said, “but they wouldn't listen.”

The guard shielded his eyes with a paint-smudged hand; Hilary supposed Miss Pimm had been right about the oils. “Well,” he said, “you'll have to leave. This land is the private property of a convict, you know. She's difficult enough to keep an eye on even when bands of pirates aren't roaming about the place.” He scratched his nose with a cadmium-yellow finger. “I really should send you to the Dungeons.”

“There's no need to do that,” Charlie said quickly. “Just think of all the paperwork you'd have to fill out: arrest forms, transportation forms, and whatever sort of form they've got for finding pirates in trees.”

“All that work would distract you from keeping watch over Mrs. Tilbury,” Hilary pointed out. “And your job is only to keep her from leaving the property, isn't that right? I'm sure you're not obliged to deal with trespassers as well.”

The guard frowned. “Perhaps I should consult Mrs. Tilbury—”

“No!” cried Hilary, Charlie, Alice, and the gargoyle all at once.

“I'd rather not,” the guard admitted. “She's terribly critical—always saying there's not enough orange paint in my sunsets. And she cheats at dominoes.”

Alice leaned down from her branch and cupped her hand around Hilary's ear. “I thought you ought to know,” she whispered, “that I just looked back at Mrs. Tilbury's room. She and Nicholas are still there, but Philomena and Oliver are gone.”

Hilary's heart had barely enough time to sink before a door slammed shut somewhere nearby, and two more lanterns appeared on the lawn. “Who's there?” Philomena called out. “Where's that dratted guard?”

The guard stiffened and turned toward Philomena. “I'm over here, Miss Tilbury,” he said. “I'm afraid there are pirates in the evergreen border.”

It was a shame, Hilary thought, that she couldn't see the face Philomena made in response. “Thank you for informing me,” Philomena said at last. “I appreciate your help, but I mustn't keep you from your work. Mr. Sanderson and I are perfectly capable of taking care of pirates.”

“Blast,” Charlie muttered. “Now we're in for it.”

Hilary tucked the gargoyle into her canvas bag and scrambled down out of the tree. “I'll handle Philomena,” she told the others, “and Oliver too, if I can manage it. There's no point in all of us getting caught.”

Charlie started to say something about not being left behind if he could help it, but Hilary had already plucked
up her pirate hat and walked over to Philomena, who was shivering in her silk gown. “It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?” Hilary said. “I was just doing some stargazing. I'd heard the trees at Tilbury Park have remarkable views.”

Philomena smiled, not exactly sweetly. “They do,” she said, “but they're terribly full of pests. Mother really should tell the gardener to do something about it.” She brushed past Hilary and walked toward the tree where Charlie and Alice were hiding. “Don't let Miss Westfield leave, Oliver.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.” Oliver grabbed Hilary's braid and tugged it hard. “It's been ages since we've had a chat, and we've got so much to discuss. Your father says you've been more of a nuisance than ever.”

“Did that school for impudent boys issue an apology to the kingdom when they set you loose?” Hilary asked. “Or did they simply place a warning in the newspaper, the way they do when a wild beast escapes from the carnival?” She reached for her cutlass, but Oliver shook his head.

“You know you're not allowed to harm us, Miss Westfield, just as we're not allowed to harm you. Believe me, I'm as disappointed as you are.”

“Then I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of my hair.” Hilary pulled her braid loose from Oliver's fist. There was no chance she'd be allowed to linger at Tilbury Park, but if only Charlie and Alice could stay hidden, perhaps they'd still be able to learn something about the Mutineers' plans. “Why don't we come to an agreement?” she asked. “I'll
return to my ship, you'll return to your villainous deeds, and we can all spend the rest of the evening in peace.”

“Don't be silly, Miss Westfield!” Philomena raised her lantern and peered up into the tree. “You've been thoughtful enough to call on us, and the least we can do is entertain you. Now, where's that dreadful boy you drag about with you wherever you go? I believe I spy his boot.”

Charlie jumped down out of the tree, keeping one hand on his cutlass. He looked from Philomena to Oliver and back again. “I'm not surprised you two are friends,” he said. “After all, you've got plenty in common.”

“If you mean we both have the best interests of the kingdom at heart,” said Philomena, “then you're not entirely dull-witted after all.” She turned back to Hilary. “Are there any more pirates hidden away on our grounds, Miss Westfield? Or haven't you managed to find anyone else to join your crew?”