The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 16

"What is it you keep repeating to yourself?" Hannover asked. He pulled the drapes together in the main room, shutting out the night-veiled world. Then, he looked back at his errand boy with a curious frown.

Timothy had been following him on their late rounds through the house, and every once in a while, the man heard him mumbling something in a thoughtful tone.

Tim looked at him brightly. "It's a bit o' poetry I found!" he answered with excitement. "I've gotta tell ya all about it! D'ya wanna hear?"

"Not particularly."

"But I fink it might just be important, sir! I memorized it just yesterday, an' it goes like this: In darkness thou shalt find an end. The ancient sentinel standeth guard. And down again, thou shalt descend; thou whose breaking—"

"Timothy, Timothy, you memorize everything!" Hannover interrupted. "I do believe you would memorize the whole dictionary if you could! But do keep your obnoxious poetry to yourself. There's a good fellow! I have no time for poetry." His eyes sparkled with fun as he put in, "The only thing I have time for right now is a chapter of that mystery novel before bed! I think you'd agree to that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, sir!" the child answered, glowing with energy.

Hannover looked away, locked a door, and smiled to himself. He had never enjoyed a book quite as much in his life. Really, he had never enjoyed anything quite as much as he did now. For most of his life, he had kept to himself, and few people had broken into his dreary world. But now, no matter where he went or what he did, there was little Timothy invading his thoughts and trying to brighten things up a bit.

It is really rather annoying, he told himself. I don't know why I put up with it! Oh, but he did know. He knew good and well that every day he was growing fonder of the perky little fellow. He had never regretted taking the boy off of the streets; in fact, he had often rejoiced in it. After all, he had done a rather heroic thing. By then, almost everyone in town knew about the good turn he had done to the orphan, and Hannover felt very proud of himself and his protégé.

Breezes of thought had blown through Hannover's mind now and then, pictures of a future not too far off. Timothy was bound to grow up into a man. And by the look of it, he was going to be a very hopeful youth. The lad was ambitious enough to earn his living and work his way up to a higher place in society than anyone dared to dream. And of course, it would be all thanks to Charles Hannover, the man who had begun the urchin's change of fate. In the gentleman's imagination, the future went on without an end in sight, and Timothy was always somewhere in the picture. Even when the boy went to college, Hannover was certain his faithful protégé would write to him. And the man would accept each letter with an outward grumble and an inward smile.

After the last door was locked, Hannover turned around and looked over his grand mansion. He loved every velvet curtain and every work of art on the walls. He loved it because it was ancient, adored it because it was priceless as gold, cherished it because it was his own. What a wise thing he had done when he had bought Netherstrand Hall. Even though it had plunged him into debt, he was sure it had been the best thing he had ever done. That debt would be washed away by Netherstrand's constant ebb and flow of customers. He was soon to be a rich man, much richer than Preston Carlyle.

If I could just find that treasure, he dreamed for the thousandth time. I might be richer than any other man in England!

Walking upstairs to the dimly lit hallway, Hannover felt Tim grab his hand and hold it tightly.

"What's this about?" he asked looking down. He saw the little boy lift his eyes toward him with a feeble smile. Instead of letting go, Timothy pressed himself a little closer to his master and then sent a nervous glance toward the dragon statues which rested at the top of the banister.