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.
Gripping his mystery novel tightly in fear, Hannover took one timid step out into the hallway. But right then, he felt a presence behind him, and icy fingers closed around his arm. With a horrible start and a stifled shriek, Hannover threw his book down and spun around.
Tim's concerned eyes shined up at him. "Mr. Hannover, what's'a matter?" he whispered.
The man clapped both hands on the boy's shoulders, feeling shaky and nervous but happy to see a trustworthy face.
"T-T-Timothy," he stammered, only breathing the word, "some low, detestable criminal is stealing through the house! Look, lad! Look!"
He pointed in an animated way down the hall, and Timothy followed his direction with wide eyes. The boy looked just in time to see the candlelight disappear around a corner. His heart gave a mighty thump.
"'At's just what I seen t'other night!" he quavered.
Hannover's frantic mind tried to form some kind of a plan. "I have to do something," he plotted aloud. "This cannot go on! Whatever mischief this unwelcome prowler is about, it must end! Stay here. No! On second thought," he added in cowardice, "you had better come along!"
Clinging to each other in terror, they ventured out into the hall. Hannover wasn't sure if he was leading Timothy or if Timothy was leading him. He still had a hand on both of the boy's shoulders, and Tim was walking just a little bit in front.
Down the hall and around the corner they went. The candle light glowed and then disappeared around another bend.
"Where could the blasted villain be heading?" Hannover whispered in his errand boy's ear. They walked on and turned down the next passageway. But now, the light was nowhere to be seen. Hannover's blood ran cold.
Ambush! It's an ambush! he thought dramatically. Any second now, the brute is going to leap out of nowhere and attack!
But Timothy had other ideas. "I know where he's goin'," he breathed in fearful understanding. "This is the same hall I followed 'im down last time! Come on, Mr. Hannover, it's this way!"
Feeling braver with his master beside him, Timothy walked forward and followed his memory through the corridors until he knew he was close. It was then that they saw the light once more, shining beneath the door which led to the gallery.
"This is just 'ow I saw it," Tim whispered in a haunting tone. "Only, as soon as I went inside, there weren't no man t' be seen, just the candle sittin' in the middle o' the room!"
Hannover shuddered and gulped. "He must be in there," he said. "I think you had better...No! No, I had better! I must confront this rogue right here and now! Timothy, stay where you are!"
His skin crawled as he tiptoed to the half-shut door. He almost expected to find an empty room with an abandoned candlestick sitting inside. But as he gently moved the door open, he saw a tall man with broad, stooping shoulders and silver hair.
With slow, careful movements, the suspect moved down the long, decorated hall. His candle waved from side to side. Its light touched picture frames, statues, and paintings on all sides. Then the man halted as if struck by a sudden revelation.
"What have we here?" his deep voice whispered. It echoed down the long room, sounding terribly ominous. Then the man in the gallery walked to a small china vase and lifted it in his hands.
Hannover's heart leapt. That is my most expensive vase! he shrieked inside. And he is about to spirit it away!
He couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't! There went an antique worth hundreds of pounds smuggled off by the hands of a thief. It was Hannover's vase. Hannover's money. With frantic boldness, he suddenly burst into the room.
"You there!" he shouted. The man jumped, fumbling and almost dropping the vase in his hands. In an instant of panic, Hannover leapt forward to save it. "You blithering idiot!" he cried, jerking the antique away. "What on earth are you about? Explain yourself!"
Suddenly, he found himself looking into the piercing gray eyes of the butler. Hannover's brow wrinkled into a frown. "Mr. Lory!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What are you...that is...what in the blazes is this? What are you doing here in the middle of the night handling my best vase? Hmm? Well?? You had better speak now before I dismiss you instantaneously! Explain this bit of insanity!"
Sebastian looked as stunned as a convicted criminal. But as Hannover's accusing voice went on, he finally gathered his dignity, ruffled his pride, and stood up tall. "Mr. Hannover, you are too suspicious!" he began.
"Oh, am I? Really?" Hannover asked sarcastically. "Tell me how? Don't you think I would find all of this rather suspicious? Really, it is insufferable! Offer a good explanation without further ado or else!"
Sebastian grumbled under his breath and then tried to compose himself. "As you wish, sir," he said, speaking in a tone of suppressed anger. "To clear my name, I will tell you that it has been my recent habit to make a nightly inspection of your property. I...think it only safe that someone guard the place from thieves and vandals. Don't you agree?"
"I am not feeling much assured," Hannover admitted testily. "What was all this about?" he asked, holding up the china vase and then setting it down with miserly adoration.
Sebastian's face flushed, perhaps with shame, perhaps with guilt, maybe with a touch of humiliation. "I was merely observing its position!" he answered after a pause. "To me, it looked as if someone had moved it."
"Bosh! Someone moved it, sure enough. It was you! Now, either you are going mad with paranoia, or you are less trustworthy than I first imagined. Let something like this happen again, and I will dismiss you without notice! Now leave this room and go back to bed!"
Sebastian's eyes flashed with unspeakable fury. But somehow, he managed to control his temper.
"Very good, sir," he forced himself to hiss. Then, with a stiff bow, he left the room.
Timothy saw the man's fierce eyes send him a threatening glare as he passed by. It made a cold shiver run down the child's spine. He watched Sebastian pass away down the hall, and the man's candlelight disappeared in the maze of passages.
Suddenly, Tim found himself in absolute, chilling darkness. Feeling unnerved by the grim shadows, he crept forward until he bumped into Hannover's unseen form and grabbed his hand for comfort. Without thinking, Hannover's fingers closed around the little boy's hand.
"What on earth was the sly fox doing in this gallery? And with my vase? I tell you, Timothy, I am beginning to fear that all is not well with this butler of mine. I never wanted him as my butler in the first place! He was a kind of extension of Netherstrand. When I bought the house, he seemed to come right along with it. Sometimes, I do believe he feels that the mansion is more his own than mine! Insufferable!"
Timothy's own thoughts were puzzling over the night's strange events. He reached out into the pitch-black room and let his fingers touch the cold china vase which Sebastian had handled.
Gracie said a vase was the same as an urn, he thought to himself. Then, looking up at his master, he whispered, "D'ya s'pose it's got anyfing t' do wiv the treasure?"
"Treasure? Ha! I don't see how it could. Mr. Lory has lived here for likely fifty years or so! If he had been interested in that legendary treasure, he would have spent his youth hunting for it. By now, I imagine he would be thoroughly discouraged!"
"I fink it's about the treasure," Tim stated firmly. "'Cause I seen 'im three times now. I seen 'im when I come close t' findin' the secret alcove. An' I seen 'im again in this 'ere gallery just the other night! Now we seen 'im t'gether, you an' me! He was a-lookin' at that there urn, sir. It's just what the lady wrote about in her poem. Did ya know I'd found a poem?"
Timothy's voice just sounded like a humming little noise in Hannover's ears. He was too deep in thought to listen, too busy stressing over his own problems to give the child's reasoning much thought.
"Poem?" he repeated absentmindedly. Then, coming to his senses a little, he frowned down at the child curiously. "Eh? Poem? What? Oh, Timothy, you really are the most ridiculous child I have ever met! You and your memory, always remembering poems and verses and whatnot! What do I care for poetry? I am dealing with a suspect! A scoundrel! A traitor perhaps! Then again, I may be completely overreacting. The old fellow might have just been walking off one of those pains the elderly are so prone to. Or, perchance, he may be going completely mad! Whatever the answer, I shall keep a close eye upon him from now on! If anything strange happens again, it is 'goodbye, Netherstrand' for him! Now, for pity's sake, let's go to bed! What an absurd thing it is to have adventures this late!"
Timothy kept his hold on his master's hand and let Hannover lead the way down the dark halls. They both felt a little jittery as they moved through the house. Once they had gone their separate ways and had crawled into bed, they both lay awake for another hour, jumping at every noise. It was a relief when their frightened thoughts finally ended, and they drifted off to sleep.
Author's Note: Hello everyone! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter of The Treasure of Netherstrand. This book and its sequel, The Gentleman's Treasure, are available on Amazon.com both as paperbacks and e-books! I hope you'll check out my author page there! I'm also getting really close to having the prequel to The Treasure of Netherstrand published on Amazon! So stay tuned!!