"It's a dream," the boy thought. "Just a nice dream. That's all." He closed his eyes, and the scene vanished into darkness. But it was hard to get the vision out of his mind. He had seen glints of golden picture frames and graceful pieces of furniture. He had seen a big window draped with elegant curtains, and a starry sky sparkling behind the glass. But somehow, it didn't seem real to him.
He had dreamed so many dreams that even his memories about the storm seemed like a nightmare from his imagination. He thought he must still be lying in the attic room at Netherstrand. If that was so, morning would come soon, and then he would have to stumble out of bed. The very thought made him moan. He felt too tired to get out of bed. He felt too tired to move at all.
It was strange how weariness could make his hard straw mattress seem so soft and nice. That thought filled half of his dreams as he fell back to sleep. He knew that the luxury would disappear as soon as he woke up. He would be back in his lonely attic room. But when he opened his eyes again, he stared in confusion. Morning was smiling in through the window, the same gorgeous window he had seen hours before. Instead of fading, the scene had grown brighter. The lace curtains were glowing with blue twilight, and he could see a lovely painting on the wall. His bed was spacious with soft blankets, and he was surrounded by puffy pillows.
"It can't be real," he murmured, shutting the marvelous scene out again. "It's too good t' be real."
He wasn't quite asleep when he felt someone lay a hand on his forehead. To him, it felt like a very cold hand. But it was still pleasant, and he knew right away that it belonged to Arthur.
In his foggy dream-like recollections, he seemed to remember seeing a great deal of Arthur. The doctor had been beside him constantly. And sometimes, Gracie's sweet-toned voice had whispered a comforting word to him. But Timothy couldn't recall seeing a thing of Hannover, and when he thought about the man, a lonely ache troubled his heart.
"Arthur," he mumbled, "where's Mr. Hannover?"
"In his office, I imagine," the young man answered.
"What time is it?"
"It is only five in the morning."
Still sleepy and dazed, the boy repeated the time in his mind, anticipating the hour when he would have to begin his chores. He was completely sure that when the clock struck six he would be in his master's office, ready to run to the post. But he was glad that it was only five. Five o'clock meant it wouldn't be a crime for him to sleep for just a few more minutes. He tried to go back to sleep, but even though he wanted to doze off, he couldn't shake a feeling of restlessness.
"Is it six yet?" he asked, stirring from a miserable dream. "Is Mr. Hannover waitin' for me?"
"No, lad. Go back to sleep," the doctor answered.
"But his letters," the lad fretted, only half awake. "I gotta mail his letters!"
Arthur gave a brief reply and tried to calm the child's worried mind. But it was no use. All Timothy could do was think about Hannover and remember the times when the man had coldly sent him away. He wanted to get up and do his work, hoping and wishing that he could gain his master's favor again. Sometimes, he dreamed that he was in Netherstrand's parlor dusting ornaments and working his hardest. But when he woke, he found himself on that feather-soft bed mumbling Hannover's name.
Arthur could only understand part of what Timothy felt. He knew that the boy's diligent heart wanted to please his master, and he knew that the lad couldn't rest until his mind was set at ease. But he didn't know that Timothy's diligence was driven by a deep friendship and love. It was beyond his comprehension that anyone could be friends with the persnickety businessman. But as he watched Timothy's restlessness, he could see that Hannover was the only person who could give the lad peace. At last, he rose from his patient's bedside and walked silently from the room.
Hannover was already awake and busy in his office. He was trying to be diligent about his work, but it had been a struggle to stay focused. His mind was never focused on gain and success now. He kept working only because he knew it was the right thing to do. Then, when he had a spare moment, he shoved his paperwork aside and grabbed the old Bible again. It was his only joy, his only comfort. It was a window which looked in upon a more hopeful future.
He was in the middle of reading when he heard footsteps walking down the hall. A quiet knock came at his door, and Hannover's heart leapt. He was bounding to answer it the next instant. As soon as he saw the doctor standing in the hall, he felt hope, fear, and dread warring within him.
"What is it?" he burst anxiously. "Don't stall! I tell you I am a dreadfully impatient man. Just tell me: is the boy well?"
"He is improving," Arthur answered in a hopeful voice. "But he will recover faster if his mind is put at ease. And I begin to feel that you are the only one who can do that. He can think of nothing but trying to please you, and he will not rest until you have given him some word of reassurance."
Hannover wasted no time. Pushing past the doctor with rude haste, he marched to Timothy's room and slipped in with Arthur following behind him.
He thought he had been as silent as a shadow. But his quiet footsteps were still enough to rouse Timothy from his restless dreams. He saw the child's eyes shine like two bright stars as they opened. When they met Hannover's gaze, those tired eyes filled with tears, and the little boy reached his arms toward the man.
Heart brimming with pity and love, Hannover dropped to his knees beside the bed and drew Timothy into his embrace.
"Am I late?" Tim whimpered.
A tear rolled down Hannover's cheek as he felt the little boy's hot face press closer to his. The child's chest heaved with suppressed sobs as he clung to his master.
"No, no, of course not," Hannover answered gently. "You are not late. I have given us a long holiday, Timothy. There will be no work for many days to come."
"A 'oliday?" the child repeated. He laid his head on the man's shoulder, and felt Hannover dab the tears away from his eyes.
"Yes, my boy. We will have the nicest holiday anyone has ever had."
"I ain't never 'ad one afore. What's an errand boy do on a 'oliday?"
Hannover smiled and gave a quiet laugh. "My dear, silly boy. You will do anything that pleases you. But for now, you will lie still and get well. I give you permission to have anything you want and to make yourself as troublesome as you wish to the maids and servants. They will be at your beck and call, and so will I." His voice choked with emotion. "Timothy," he whispered, "if I could redo the past, I would change so many things. Please forgive me, selfish, faulty boar that I am! You are my best and only friend on earth."
"Really?" Tim gasped. His eyes shined up at the man and met the look of devotion in his master's eyes.
Hannover nodded his head and squeezed the boy tightly. "Now tell me, my good lad, what can I do for you? I will give you whatever your heart desires."
Timothy gave a happy sigh as his master's voice hummed in his ears. Whether it spoke gently or with a bit of teasing severity, that voice was home and joy to him.
"Please, sir, will ya stay wiv me?" he begged, looking as if it was a great favor to ask.
Hannover smiled again. "Is that all you want?" he asked in surprise. His voice rang with its old playful tune. "I offer you the moon, and you settle for grouchy, uninteresting me? I expected you to request some expensive, elaborate gift. And I would have given it to you ungrudgingly. I daresay, you have missed a grand opportunity. It isn't every day I feel so generous."
The little boy's face brightened with a happy but feeble smile. "I don't want nuffin' 'cept for you t' stay wiv me," he said sleepily.
"Then I shall gladly do it," Hannover answered. And I don't care what the doctor says, he added to himself. My Timothy needs me!
It baffled Arthur, but he couldn't help coming to the same conclusion. With Hannover nearby, Tim settled down and felt at ease. The doctor shook his confusion away. He was too relieved to see Timothy resting to feel jealous of the child's affection. But he still failed to realize how dear to each other's hearts the two had become.
Timothy didn't love Arthur any less than he loved his temperamental master. They were both dear to him. But when Hannover was there, he felt as if his lonely orphan heart had found its home. He lived to see the taunting smile spread over Hannover's face, to hear his humorous rants, and to know that his master needed him. Whenever Hannover was near, Tim knew that he would be happy being an errand boy forever and ever.
Hannover was the only clear thing in Timothy's hazy world. It was a comfort to fall asleep knowing that he was beside him, and it was a joy to wake up and see that he was still there. Somehow, he still couldn't fathom that the grand room he lay in wasn't just a figment of his imagination. But he didn't care. If he woke up in the attic and still had Hannover nearby, he would be unspeakably happy. With that consolation, the little boy nestled himself closer to his comforter and fell into a deep, restful sleep.
He didn't know how long he had slept. Hours or days might have slipped by without the lad's notice as he drifted from one confusing dream to the next. But at last, his fever broke, and everything grew blissfully calm. When he woke again, the world looked bright, and the room where he lay seemed too real to be a dream. He was still too tired and shaky to move. And he was too content to wish to. A smile spread over his face as he looked at the cozy elegance of his room.
"Well now, awake at last, are you?" Hannover said with pleasure. "I wondered when you would finally greet the day."
Timothy gave him a sweet smile. "Mr. Hannover, where are we?" he asked.
"In your bedroom. Where else would we be? Do you like it?"
"Very much, sir. But it can't really be mine, can it?"
"Why not? Everything I give to you becomes yours, doesn't it?"
"If I earn it," the little boy answered.
Hannover gave a somber smile. "A true and honest principle, my boy," he said, pressing the child's hand in his own. "But it will no longer remain that way between you and me. Your diligence has earned a great deal more than I have ever paid you. Besides that, sometimes I might want to give you something merely for the fun of doing it, and you must let me. By the way, I am still in a rather generous mood. Tell me something you would like to have, and I will give it to you."
Timothy didn't have to think very long. He knew what he wanted. But it felt very strange to ask his master for anything. "Would it be a lot o' trouble to ask for a bit o' water?"
The simple request made Hannover smile. "Trouble?" he repeated with a laugh. "Of course! That is the most tedious task in all the world!" He poured some water from a pitcher into a glass and shook his head in amusement. "Dear simple Timothy, you will never make a businessman. You don't even know how to seize an advantageous opportunity. But I like that about you, and I wouldn't have you any other way!"
He lifted and supported the little boy with one arm, steadying the glass in Tim's hands while he drank. Then, a sudden plan delighted Hannover's mind. He gave the lad a squeeze and laid him down again.
"Are ya leavin'?" Tim asked, looking disappointed as the man rose from his seat.
"I will not be long," Hannover explained cheerfully. "If you go back to sleep, the time will seem even shorter." He bid Timothy goodbye, and then left the room on a mission.
Time did go by quickly. The lad was fast asleep when Hannover returned, and the man was so quiet in the room that his motions didn't wake him. It wasn't until late evening that Timothy stirred. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see a nicely arranged stack of packages beside him. They were all wrapped in brightly colored paper, and each one begged the little boy to pick it up and see what was inside. But they couldn't be for him. He was sure of that. He was only an errand boy, and errand boys didn't get presents wrapped in fancy paper. Even so, curiosity got the better of him.
Giving in to temptation, Tim took one of the gifts and turned it over in his hands. He wished he knew what was inside. Who did it belong to? And when would they come to open it? Unable to help himself, the boy started picking at the edge of the paper until just one corner of it lifted. Right then, he heard a cheerful voice speak from the doorway. "Are you attempting to guess what it is before you see it? Or do you merely enjoy trying your own patience?" Hannover chuckled. Timothy dropped the package with a start and gave a sheepish smile.
"It's a book," he giggled. "I know it is! I saw it, just a little bit."
"Then why don't you open it and see it a little more?" his master asked with a pleasant smile.
"Can I?" the lad asked excitedly.
"Unless you like the wrapping paper better than you like a book. But let it wait a moment longer. If you are going to grow strong again, it only stands to reason that you must have a hearty meal."
A "hearty meal" reminded Timothy of the porridge Mary always made him for breakfast. He had never been picky, but the thick porridge was made of gnarly course-ground wheat, and with a sore throat it sounded like torture.
"But...I ain't very 'ungry," he ventured, shuddering.
"Nevertheless, I think you will eat," his master responded lightheartedly. "Firstly because I told you to; secondly because it will do you good; and thirdly because I had it made especially for you. Do you know how hurt I would be if you refused to take at least a taste of it?"
Timothy laughed and smiled. "I wouldn't want that," he said. At the same time, Hannover carried a silver platter into the room, propped Timothy up with pillows, and placed the tray on the boy's lap.
In pretty silver dishes, the child saw an astonishing sight. There was no porridge of any kind. But there was a rich broth soup, vanilla custard, and a bit of strawberry preserves.
"There, what do you think of it?" Hannover asked.
Without answering, Timothy swung his arms around the man and laughed merrily. "Fank you, Mr. Hannover! You're so awfully kind! Too kind t' the likes o' me!"
Hannover swallowed a lump in his throat and squeezed the little boy tightly. "Now, now," he sniffled at last. "No time for all this nonsense. Your breakfast will grow cold!" He dabbed a stray tear from his cheek and then the merriment began.
Timothy did justice to the tempting meal his master had brought him. Then, realizing that all of the colorful gifts on the bed were his very own, he tore the wrapping paper away and marveled over each present. There were books, and spinning tops, and toys of all kinds. He had his very own writing paper, and his very own ink and pen. Best of all, when he unwrapped the last present, he found himself holding his very own Bible.
"The way you love words, I won't be surprised if we both have that book memorized before summer!" Hannover teased. "And there is nothing I could enjoy more!"
Timothy clasped the Bible to his heart and leaned into his master's arms again. They were both too happy to say another word. But in their hearts, they said a thankful prayer to God.
They spent the rest of the evening enjoying Timothy's toys. And when the little boy became tired, Hannover read him a story until the child fell asleep.
Timothy didn't get well all at once. For a couple of long weeks, he was a very weak and sickly boy. Hannover had never known that he could feel so anxious about anyone except for himself. The little boy's misery became his own suffering, and he couldn't rest until he had done everything possible to soothe it. But he wasn't the only one fretting over Tim's recovery.
Arthur spent just as much time beside the child. He had his own way of worrying over Tim's health, and his own reasons for praising God when he saw him recovering. He had managed to stay calm throughout the ordeal. But sometimes he felt as if he had been being crushed by a slow, oppressive weight. It had come from a fear that Timothy would die, just as his wife had, and that nothing he could do would save him. Now, as Timothy improved, he could breathe a sigh of relief and thank God that the little boy was on the mend. Then his mind began to think about the future because he knew it was high time to go home.