That night, the tavern "The Swan Pond" was as lively as ever. In the main hall, the hum of conversations, the clinking of mugs and cutlery, and the music formed a constant backdrop. Mrs. Marley was giving instructions to her helpers, who were busy preparing vegetables, seafood, or frying fish. In the back, Sammy, wearing a grease-stained apron and with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, was helping wash the dirty dishes that kept piling up. Cody, for his part, was assisting in the main hall, weaving between the wooden tables with a tray full of beer mugs, greeting customers, and taking constant orders.

  Suddenly, the tavern door swung open, and a group of four pirates entered. Their sun-worn faces reflected suspicion as they scanned the room. They headed for a table, where Cody attended to them.

  "Gentlemen, are you ready to order? We have rum, wine, beer, and for dinner, tuna stew... or you can choose from the menu," Cody said while wiping the table.

  The four men looked at the young man and ordered a round of beer. Cody quickly served the mugs and brought them over. One of the men pced some coins on the table; the boy hurried to take them, but the man grabbed him by the wrist. Cody looked at him, confused.

  "Do you know Machias Wilbur?" the pirate asked.

  Even more bewildered by the question, Cody shook his head and replied:

  "I don’t know him, sir."

  "I don’t believe you. You look like someone who knows everyone. A boy like you must know where he is."

  "You’ll have to forgive me, sir. Though I’m a dock boy, I don’t meddle in things that don’t concern me… Would you kindly let me go?"

  The pirate met his gaze mockingly before finally releasing him, while his companions exchanged gnces. One of them, with a scruffy beard, cursed under his breath before taking a swig from his mug. Cody picked up his tray and resumed serving the beer, but one of the pirates deliberately stuck out his foot, causing Cody to trip and catastrophically spill beer all over the bearded pirate.

  The man, enraged, sprang to his feet and, before Cody could react, shoved him.

  "You damn fool!" he roared.

  "I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention," Cody said nervously.

  The pirate grabbed Cody by the front of his shirt and shook him.

  "You’ll pay for this, you little rat."

  Before things could escate, Sammy, alerted by one of the waitresses, rushed in from the kitchen and quickly intervened, grabbing the pirate’s wrist to make him release Cody.

  "Calm down, friend," Sammy said. "It was an accident."

  "Oh, look at that, the girl’s got more guts than the boy," the pirate sneered.

  He stepped closer to Sammy with a smug grin and, staring at her, asked, "And what do you pn to do about it?"

  "I could smash your face in if that’s what you’re asking," the girl replied firmly.

  The room fell silent. Just then, Sally arrived, still wearing her apron. Her serious expression reflected years of dealing with drunkards and trouble.

  "What’s going on here?" she said, raising her voice with authority. "We don’t tolerate fights here, and I certainly won’t allow mistreatment of my staff."

  "That scrawny kid spilled beer on me, and this wench is looking for a fight," the pirate spat.

  "Well, I apologize for the situation, and I can send you another beer on the house," Sally offered.

  "That’s not enough. Not only did they spill beer on me, but they also insulted me," the brute insisted.

  "Oh, so you’re looking for a fight. If that’s the case, you’ll have to deal with my friend here," Sally said, nodding toward the rge pistol hanging from her belt. "At Sally’s tavern, folks come to have a good time. Troublemakers, we treat with special care… Isn’t that right, Frank?" Sally turned to an old man with gray hair and an eyepatch, who casually showed off a shotgun.

  "And I’ve got great aim," the old man added with a crooked smile.

  The pirate gred at her, but the hand of his leader fell on his shoulder.

  "Come on, Edgar, we came here to cool off, not to cause trouble," the leader of the group said. "My apologies for the incident. It's best we leave."

  The four men stood up and made their way to the door. Before leaving, the leader gave a slight bow, tipping his hat. Once they had disappeared through the door, the music and conversations resumed.

  "Thank you very much, Miss Sally," Cody said.

  "Be more careful, Cody. And you, troublemaker, what were you thinking?" Sally scolded Sammy.

  "I just wanted to defend Cody," Sammy replied.

  "With that kind of people, you have to be very careful. They’re like rabid dogs… Now, get back to work."

  The three of them returned to the bar as Sammy resumed her pce in the kitchen.

  "What would you have done if the guy had drawn his sword?" Cody asked as Sammy put her apron back on.

  "What would I do? Fight. That’s all."

  The boy returned to the bar, where one of the waitresses approached him.

  "A group of men just arrived. Can you serve them? I have to deliver an order with several mugs and ptes."

  Cody looked toward the back, where the waitress was pointing. In a corner, a group of three men dressed in discreet clothing was conversing in whispers. Among them, one man’s appearance stood out—he was an albino.

  Cody was about to approach them when Sally stopped him.

  "I’ll handle them. You go to your aunt’s house and pick up some tarts," she said.

  The boy removed his apron and hurried off to complete the errand. He grabbed his tricorn hat and left the tavern.

  Sally approached the men. They were talking among themselves, but she quickly realized they were speaking German. That wasn’t unusual; Tiburon Bay was a meeting pce for all kinds of sailors, smugglers, and pirates of various nationalities. After taking their order, the albino raised his hand.

  "We’re looking for Virgilio Coppieter. By any chance, do you know where we might find him?,”he asked.

  Sally pursed her lips in doubt.

  "Doesn't ring a bell," she said.

  "Tiburon Bay isn’t very big. I bet everyone knows each other."

  Sally narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, standing defiantly.

  "Look, pal, if I knew, I’d tell you,”she said. “Now, do you want to try the stew, or just the beers?"

  "Do you have bratwurst sausages?" one of the men asked.

  "What do you think this is, Hamburg? I’ve got dried fish with spices."

  The pirate grimaced in disappointment. They would stick to just the beer. As Sally walked away, an old pirate nearby chimed in with a grin.

  "Oh!" he said, scratching his beard. "This afternoon, I myself delivered a crate from Amsterdam addressed to a fellow with that name."

  "Could you tell us where to find him?" the Germans asked, offering a few coins, which the old man caught in midair with surprising agility for his age.

  When Sally returned with the beers, she was surprised to find that the Germans had left, which made her furious. When she went out to look for them on the street, the men had vanished into the darkness, as if they had been a trio of ghosts.