The Treasure of Netherstrand

Chapter 23

Darkness. It had wrapped itself all around Timothy, thick and suffocating, like the ocean itself. It was a stormy night. Outside, the distant roll of thunder broke the silence now and then. The little boy tried to burrow deeper and deeper into his blankets, but nothing could hide him from the fearsome storm.

"I dunno why yer so scared," he told himself, quaking. "It's just another night. It'll be over in a few hours!"

Lightning flashed, and the boy ducked under his covers. It wasn't just another night; it was the night Hannover had read him a grim chapter of their favorite mystery novel. In that one chapter, a murderous thief had been discovered, and the clever detective had been left with his life hanging in peril. The lad shuddered and peeked out at the inky darkness again.

I wonder if there's any flashmen about these parts, he thought. By "flashmen" the little street scamp meant "thieves". Of course, he knew there were thieves in all sorts of places. Why wouldn't they be near Netherstrand? There were so many valuable things in the castle that it must have been like honey to a fly. What thief could resist trying to break in and steal Hannover's priceless antiques?

A noise rang out downstairs. Timothy jolted upright and pressed his tingling back against the wall.

"What was that?" he gasped. He strained his eyes to see through the shadows. His ears listened for several minutes. Then, once again, he heard something coming from the hallway below him. It might have been a footstep. Yes, he was sure it was. And was that a voice he heard as well?

It's a thief! the little boy panicked. He's come t' steal Mr. Hannover's fings! Blimey! What do I do? He wrung his blankets in unbearable fear. If it was really a thief, then the rogue might rob them all blind. Or worse, some thieves were murderers. I've gotta tell somebody! We gotta catch the blighter!"

It took all of his courage, but finally, Timothy crawled out of bed and tiptoed downstairs. As he reached the hallway, he sent a wary glance all around. It was so hard to see, but to his horror, he thought he caught sight of a figure down the hall.

If it is a thief, he's goin' off the wrong way, Tim thought, frowning curiously. That way don't lead nowhere! It's past the servants' rooms, an' there ain't a valuable to be found!

Tim had never explored that part of the hall very well, but he had been told that it came to a dead end. Suddenly, a bright idea came to his mind, and a mischievous smile touched his lips.

Well, there's one fing we can count on, he told himself victoriously. The ol' blighter ain't gonna rob no more 'owses! He's got 'imself cornered, an' he'll be caught for sure down that way! But, I gotta get 'elp 'afore he sees he's made a mistake!

Icy chills ran up and down Timothy's spine as he hurried silently to Hannover's door. He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. Hannover always locked his door, and the boy didn't dare to knock. One little noise would be enough to alarm the housebreaker. Then everything would be ruined. Even so, the little boy tested the door, and to his surprise, the knob turned easily in his hand. For once, his master had been negligent.

On tiptoes, Timothy crept into the man's office and then made his way into the bedroom. "Mr. Hannover!" he whispered shakily. "Mr. Hannover, wake up! It's thieves!"

Hannover gave a wild start and jumped up with his hair standing on end. "Thieves? What? Where?" he shouted. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Timothy flinched and then crawled up onto the bed as if seeking protection there. "Sir, I 'eard somefing down the hall!" he whimpered.

"Wha? Timothy! Is that you?" Hannover asked in irritation. "What is all of this? How on earth did you enter this room? Tell me that instantly!"

"The door weren't locked, sir. But I 'eard somebody a-walkin' down the hall! An' I reckon it's flashmen, sir!"