The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 2

Timothy leaned out of the window in uncontainable excitement. He let the brisk wind comb through his disorderly hair, and the world seemed to race past him in a blur as the horses drew the carriage down the road. He had never felt the breeze so strong and so delicious in all his life. Its touch was gentle on his face, and it played with his hair the way his mother might have, if he had ever known one.

"The wind bloweth where it listeth," he echoed from his memory. "Mr. Hannover, what's 'listeth' mean?"

"It is someone's will," the man answered dryly and bluntly.

"What? Like what dead men 'ave read at their funerals?"

"Bah! You insufferable simpleton!" the man scoffed, sounding harsh but grinning in humor. "You really know nothing at all, do you? It means to want or desire; to decide. You might as well say 'the wind blows where it wishes'. There, does that satisfy you? Now stop hanging out of that window and drawing everyone's attention!"

Tim slipped back into the closed carriage and sank down onto the cushioned seat. "Ain't never felt nuffin' as soft as this," he sighed in pleasure. "It makes me wish I could go right t' sleep it does!"

"I take it your lodgings are not the most comfortable. Where do you live?" the man asked, sounding less interested than he really felt.

Timothy shrugged his shoulders. "T'aint so bad," he answered. "I got a place t' lay me 'ead. An' I stays outta the rain most o' the time. I lives close to the sea shore in The Silver Wing."

A curious frown crossed Hannover's face. "And what is that?"

"It's a boat, sir; 'least, what's left o' one. I don't fink she'd float if ya tried her now, sir. Part of her's broke an' stuck in the ground. But there's still three walls t' the cabin, an' they keeps the rain off as best they can."

"Hmm..." Mr. Hannover wrinkled his brow thoughtfully, but he said no more.

Right then, the coach pulled up before a tall building. Timothy started up from the soft cushions and leaned out of the window again. His eyes widened with surprise. He was looking at a mansion; an old, beautiful castle which towered up into the sky.

Hannover looked at his estate with a smile of pride glimmering on his lips. The place was spectacular, peculiar, mysterious. Everything about it filled him with delight.

"Oh, sir!" Tim gasped in delight. "Where are we? Is this where ya live?"

Hannover cast him a bewildered glance. "Do you honestly not know?" he asked.

The little boy shook his head innocently. "It must be a castle! Why, it's as big as Buckleham Palace!"

"That's Buckingham, oh simple one," Hannover laughed. "At any rate, everyone of importance knows about this place. You have come to Netherstrand Hall. Now come, come! I didn't hire you to sit there gawking. You have work to do."

Timothy hurried to his task, but that didn't keep him from gazing. Netherstrand was ancient, beautiful, almost eerie. It sat upon a high ledge of white chalk which overlooked the deep, blue ocean which came burbling over the pebbled beech.

The castle's walls were half hidden beneath a tangle of lush vines. And on either side of the old wooden doors, two stone lions stood guard with roaring jaws and majestic frames.

Tim gave both of the statues a wary glance, feeling a little frightened by their unfriendly appearance. But Hannover didn't lead him past those mighty sentinels. Instead, they turned away from the main entrance and walked to the servants' door at the back of the house.