The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 30

He had forgotten all about time. Hannover turned each page of his book, tingling with anxiety. At his feet, Timothy had already fallen asleep. But the man was still reading aloud to him in an excited whisper.

His skin crawled in delightful fear as he followed his fictional hero on a dangerous adventure. The story told of a dark, abandoned building and a criminal who lurked in the shadows, always hidden and always seeking to take the young protagonist's life.

"I knew I had been cornered," Hannover read breathlessly. "I could feel the villain's eyes fixed upon me; yet, the murderous rogue remained invisible, hidden from my sight like a ghost. I held my lantern high and took a sweeping glance at my surroundings, backing up toward the wall. Still, I saw nothing. But I could hear the distinct sound of footsteps coming closer and closer..."

No sooner had Hannover breathed the last words than the haunting footsteps in the story came into reality. The man's eyes lifted from his novel's page, looking wide and full of terror. His hair stood on end as he listened. He could hear the steps clomping down the hall outside of his office. For one moment, he expected to see his own bedroom door open to reveal the ruthless murderer. But the sound quieted, and a little sense came back to his mind.

Don't be ridiculous! he thought, trembling. There is nothing ghastly or criminal going on. I daresay, I am only hearing my own heartbeat!

He put a finger on his wrist to count each hard thump of his frightened heart. But its rhythm didn't match the distant tapping sound he had been listening to.

The squeak of a floorboard made his ears perk. He swallowed hard and tried to think reasonably. You cowardly oaf! he scolded himself. There is nothing to be afraid of! Didn't I tell this flighty orphan lad just the other day that Netherstrand is guarded by the strongest locks money can buy? There is no chance of housebreakers. And my guests are all of the best and most honorable character...aren't they?

He tapped his fingers against his open mystery novel, feeling more nervous all the time. What raving imbecile would be awake at a time like this? he wondered. I thought I was the only one who stayed up until a quarter past twelve!

A glance at the clock showed him that it was later than that. One o'clock in the morning had come and was quickly slipping by.

This has to be some kind of mischief, some kind of sinister plot against me! Yes... he went on, his eyes narrowing. Now that I think of it, there have been several very peculiar things going on in this house. It all started that night when Timothy woke me up complaining about housebreakers!

But he knew that it couldn't be housebreakers. It had to be someone who was already staying in that house. The question was, what were they doing? And why had they chosen this late hour to do it? Hannover gathered all of his courage.

There is nothing for it, Charles, he thought, bracing himself. I have to find out!

With great care and silence, he rose from his seat, leaving Timothy asleep on his footstool. Then he crept through his bedroom and into his office. At the office door, he could hear the footsteps sounding slightly louder in the hall beyond. They wandered here and there, sometimes pausing and sometimes speeding on.

Hannover twisted the doorknob slowly and let the door glide open a crack. Poking his head cautiously out, he looked left and right. Then he saw it: the faint, eerie glow of candle light growing distant down the passageway. It was still so dark that he couldn't make out the person's shape, but by the sound of the heavy footsteps, he knew it was a man somewhat larger than himself.