The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 5

The day was quickly over. The servants' work was all done, and when it was completely dark outside, the guests who stayed in that beautiful house retired to their fancy rooms. But Timothy didn't know what to do. If he had been on his own, he would have been sitting in the breezy cabin of The Silver Wing, watching the moon rise over the sea. But now, he found himself following Hannover around the house as the man secured the windows, blew out candles, and locked the doors.

The little boy looked around at everything in the house as they went. It was the first chance he had gotten to really study the castle's grandeur. Now, he travelled through a long maze of hallways and rooms, looking all around in fascination. The halls were decorated with tapestries and paintings, and at the top of every staircase, there were large stone statues keeping guard. Timothy always gave them a wide berth, feeling unnerved by their stern, beastly faces.

At last, he followed Hannover into a grand drawing room. It was as cozy and beautiful as any room could be, and it was glittering and glowing with colorful decorations. As he scanned the walls, his eye was caught by one gorgeous frame with an old, old piece of paper inside.

That must be the rhyme Rory told me about, he noted excitedly. He couldn't resist the temptation. With silent, quick steps, he dashed across the room and stood on his tiptoes to look at it.

Oh, if I'd only learned t' read a bit better! he thought, feeling frustrated. They tried t' teach me at the workhouse, they did. But I never could make 'eads or tales of it all.

Tim couldn't pick out even a word of the elegant cursive. After a moment, he gave up with a sigh and went back to follow his master.

At last, their path led them back to Hannover's office. The man glanced at the boy irritably, hesitating before going in. "Why do you follow me like a shadow?" he asked at last. "It is getting on my nerves!"

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy said humbly. "I didn't know what else t' do."

"Do? There is nothing more to do! It is after ten o'clock. Go to bed!"

"But I ain't a bit sleepy," the child said. "Are you goin' t' bed straight away, sir?"

Hannover paused for a second. His mind dwelt upon the way he was about to spend the last hour or two of his night. In his room, there was a book which had been waiting for him to pick it up and read its suspenseful words. He had thought about it all through the long hours of his train ride, and he had wished over and over again that he had stashed it among his luggage to make the trip less dull. But, more importantly, there was a pricey treasure in his bedroom which had been calling to his heart every hour of the day.

"No," he answered simply. He walked into his bedroom, coolly trying to shake off his little pest. But Tim slipped in behind him.

"Then, can I stay wiv you?" the lad asked. He bounced after his master, following him through the office and into a marvelously comfortable bedroom which glowed with lamplight. "I promise I won't cause no trouble!"

His master looked disturbed. He had never allowed visitors so late at night. But how could he deny the little waif? The boy looked so lost and out of place in that huge house.

"Well...I suppose," Hannover agreed at last. "But keep your voice down, for goodness sake! There are people in this house who are trying to sleep."

Hannover sat down to his midnight pleasures, feeling a little bit uneasy. On his coffee table, there was a plate of strawberry tarts and a pot of tea. They were his personal treat, but he felt guilty as he ate them in front of the underfed orphan. Even so, he was determined not to share. Those things were his, and his alone. He wasn't about to give in to an urchin's begging eyes.