A shiver ran down Timothy's spine. He lay in bed gripping the blankets as he strained his ears to listen. The sound was undoubtable. He could hear a pair of feet creeping stealthily down the hall downstairs, just as they had done the other night.

Oh no! 'Ere we go again! he thought, shivering in fear. What do I do this time? His thoughts tumbled around and around in his head. Who was this strange person who prowled around at night? By now, he knew it couldn't be a housebreaker. Whoever it was, they had to be staying in that house.

Sebastian flashed back into his mind. Why had the old man been awake that night? What had he been doing in that hall? Something strange was going on, and the butler was definitely a part of it.

I reckon I'm about the only person what knows 'bout this, the little boy thought. An' if they're goin' about stealin' fings, Mr. Hannover needs t' know.

He was sure Hannover wouldn't believe him if he told the man about the things he had heard. But if he could catch the criminals red-handed and drag his master away to witness the whole thing, then he was sure the rogues' mischief would be put to an end.

He sat up in bed and shoved his blankets away. Then, battling his fear, he crept downstairs. A glimmer of candlelight shone down the hall. He caught a glimpse of a tall, shadowy person, but it was only a fleeting glance. In the same second, the prowler turned down a particular corridor and disappeared from his view.

There ain't no secret door down that way, I don't b'lieve! the child thought victoriously. I'm sure t' catch 'im this time.

He moved forward silently, keeping hidden in the shadows of the huge house. He was quick, but not quick enough to get a good look at the person he was tracking. As soon as he turned into the hallway, he saw the candle's glow fade around another corner. On and on, he followed the light, never able to get close enough to know who he was pursuing.

Going a little further, the child suddenly came to a halt. He felt a chill of fear run through him. There were closed doors on either side of the hall, but one door was partly open. And inside, Tim could see the gleaming light.

He tingled and shuddered and trembled as he walked forward. Very quietly, very cautiously, he reached the old door and peeked through the crack. But what a familiar sense of horror gripped him as he looked in. He saw nothing. Not a man or woman stood in the room. The only sign of the night roamer was the candlestick which had been set in the middle of the floor.

With his heart pounding wildly, Timothy pushed the door open and stepped in, looking all around in terror. He was perfectly alone. But how? How could the person have disappeared again? And where was he now?

From some impulse, Timothy stooped down and picked up the stranger's candle. Its light danced across the walls of the room, glinting on the edges of gilded picture frames. Straight ahead of him, he saw the light reflecting in a mirror at the far end of the gallery. In that mirror, he could see himself and the black doorway behind him. As he gazed at the reflection, a sudden draft of air made his candle flicker and dim. Then, before he could even think, he saw a dark figure loom out of the shadows and felt two arms seize him from behind. His cry of horror was muffled in the palm of a large, cold hand.

"You! What are you doing here?" he heard Sebastian growl. As his mouth was uncovered, all Tim could do was whimper in fear.

"What right do you have to plunder in this room? In my mistress's house!" the butler demanded gruffly.

"I...I was followin' somebody, an' then he disappeared. An' please, Mr. S'bastian, I didn't mean no 'arm!" the child sobbed.

"Speak quietly, you senseless oaf!" the man hissed. Then, talking in a deep, ominous tone, he said, "Twice I have caught you roaming long after everyone else has gone to bed. Let me warn you before it is too late! You are standing on dangerous ground. Now, perhaps I can teach you to mind your own business and stay out of my way! If you utter a word about what you have seen and heard this night, I assure you, Timothy, things will go very badly for you and for everyone at Netherstrand! Now, I shall make sure that you will not trouble me again!"

Keeping a tight grip on the little boy, Sebastian wheeled around and began dragging the lad back down the hall. Timothy bawled as he stumbled after him. They quickly left the gallery and the corridor far behind. Then Sebastian pushed Tim up the attic stairs and threw him into his own bedroom.

Before the little boy could gather his senses, the door slammed shut behind him, and he heard a key turn in the outer lock. The noise of Sebastian's footsteps grew distant as the man left.

Trembling in the darkness of his bedroom, Timothy hardly knew what to think or do. He was scared out of his wits. The butler's strange threat echoed and echoed in his memory.

"What did he mean by 'it'll go very badly' for me an' the folks at Netherstrand?" he wondered in terror. "What would he do to us?" It made him shudder and quake.

Surely, the treasure had to be at the root of all this. Sebastian was searching for it, and he wasn't searching alone. But Tim started wondering just how crazed and sinister this butler was. What was the man willing to do for this hidden gold?

Timothy lay down on his bed, but he was too scared to shut his eyes. He didn't know what would happen in the morning. Would Sebastian release him? Or did the old man have a different plan? One thing was very sure, the lad was too frightened to tell anyone what had happened; that is, anyone except for his Heavenly Father.

That night, Timothy had a special prayer to say. And as he said it, some of his fears began to ease. "Jesus," he whispered quietly, "I'm scared 'cause I dunno what Mr. S'bastian's about, an' I'm afraid it's no good. But you know everyfing, an' I only knows what I see an' what I 'ear. Ya knows all about Mr. S'bastian's 'eart just as well as you know mine. Please, don't let S'bastian be a bad fellow. I fink I could like 'im very well if he weren't quite so mean sometimes. An' even so, I still love 'im for your sake, Jesus. I love 'im 'cause he's somebody you created, an' somebody who needs t' know you. Please, Jesus, make Mr. S'bastian good."

It was a long night. Just before dawn glimmered in the sky, the sleepy, frightened lad fell fast asleep. He forgot all about time. Five o'clock turned into six, and he didn't realize it. He didn't even wake up when his door was unlocked and when footsteps came up to his bed.

The poor boy looked quite pathetic. He had thrown himself down on top of his uncomfortable straw bed, too out of sorts even to crawl beneath his blankets. He was curled up in a tight ball now, as if he was trying to hide from everything around him.

"So, this is your night plunderer, is it?" Hannover scoffed in a whisper. He gave Sebastian a skeptical frown and brushed off the look of offense and frustration which crossed his butler's face.

"You do not, I hope, believe that I am imagining things!" Sebastian grumbled. "I saw him with my own eyes. Twice! And believe me, he was not alone!"

"Oh, bosh!"

"That seems to be your favorite word, but it won't get you out of this one!" the old man said peevishly. "I demand that you do something about this problem."

Hannover laughed offensively. "Granted the little fellow is an absolute nuisance sometimes, Timothy has never been a problem!" he said.

"Then tell me what he was doing searching the gallery in the middle of the night!"

Hannover gave him a sly, sideways glance. "I have another question," he began meaningfully. "What were —you— doing in the gallery last night?"

Sebastian bristled and raised himself to his full height. "I was investigating what I saw to be, and still believe was, a very suspicious event."

"Pooh, pooh! So, you saw a little boy exploring the gallery! Did anything go missing? Was anything damaged? Of course, it wasn't! Timothy is far too careful to break anything. What you saw was a child's ridiculous and fruitless search for a treasure which, more's the pity, probably doesn't even exist. Now if you don't mind me saying it, you have caused quite enough trouble for one day! I had to send Rory to the post office since my errand boy is out of commission. And you know how that rascal dawdles when he is in town! I will count myself lucky if my mail goes out at all with it in his hands! So, I command you to give your attention to more important business and leave my errand boy alone."

Sebastian's pale eyes flashed like lightning. "As you wish, sir. The boy is your responsibility. But if you find that he causes you a great deal of damage, do not say that I didn't warn you!" He wheeled around and stomped away, leaving the sleeping child alone with his master.

Hannover took a long, pitying look at Timothy. He never felt fonder of the lad than when Sebastian falsely accused him. And by now, Hannover knew that any accusation against Tim was bound to be a false one. Feeling kinder than usual, the man folded a blanket over the child and left the room with quiet steps.

It was nine o'clock when Timothy crept into Hannover's office. The boy's eyes had never looked so wide and so frightened. His usually sunny face looked like ash.

Hannover glanced at him quickly and then went back to scribbling in a big book of records. "Ah, so you finally decided to get up," he remarked dryly.

"Sir, are ya angry wiv me?" the child quavered.

"That depends on what you were doing last night," Hannover stated.

The little boy fought back tears and crept closer to his master's side. "Please, sir, I weren't doin' nuffin' wrong! I promise I weren't! I got scared 'cause I 'eard a noise, an' I went down t' see what it was, an'—"

"And Sebastian scared you out of your wits. Yes, I have heard it all," Hannover finished, sparing Timothy the trouble. "Oh well, think no more of it. You missed your trip to the post office. What do you think of that?"

"I'm awful sorry," the lad answered penitently. "Please don't dismiss me wivout notice!"

"Would you rather I dismissed you with notice?" the man laughed heartily. He slid his reading glasses halfway down his nose so he could look the boy in the eyes. "My fretful little imbecile, I have no intention of dismissing you right now. If you had intentionally done wrong, it would be a different story. And I still call your night escapade ridiculous, irresponsible, and quite unnerving. It is something I demand that you do not repeat. But seeing that I never gave you any command of that nature before, we will forget it this once. If it makes you feel better, I intentionally allowed you to sleep late. And that means you did nothing wrong."

A smile of relief quickly stole all of the fear and sorrow away from Tim's face. That look of joy sent a warm feeling of satisfaction into Hannover's heart. Had he ever enjoyed anything more? His poor little protégé was completely dependent upon him. He liked the fact that his approval or disappointment had the power of making the lad happy or miserable. How had life ever been interesting before this perfect, precious idiot had come to humor him?

Those thoughts came and passed with a chuckle in Hannover's heart. Now, you are going much too far, he reminded himself. Before this ludicrous waif drifted into my life, I still had my money, my plans, my Netherstrand! What more could I want? I was sufficiently pleased with them before ever a Timothy invaded my life.

He gave his mind back to his bookkeeping and let his imagination admire his money and his beautiful estate. They were his all-consuming possessions. To gain his beloved wealth, he had worked hard, endured misery, and even faced peril. It had been quite an adventure, but that is another story for another time.

Hannover's riches were his very first love. Oh, how shameful that his first love was not Christ. When he coveted and adored his worldly gain, his heart was as far from the righteous path as darkness is from light. He fell into a pit of mammon-worship every single day. But each time he saw Timothy's bright countenance, the darkness was lifted for a short time, and he caught a glimpse of eternal light.

There was still enough goodness in Hannover's heart to find interest in that light. A completely wicked heart would have despised it with a passion. But when the child's righteousness convicted his own unrighteous heart, he felt a sting of guilt, a pain of remorse, a suffocating sense of being trapped by invisible chains. If he had taken the time to examine the state of his spirit, he would have seen that he had become the bondservant of sin. But, although the light glimmered for an instant, it faded soon enough, and Hannover was trapped in darkness once again.

"Can I do somefing for ya, Mr. Hannover?" Tim asked.

The lad still sounded so sleepy that the man couldn't think of sending him off on a real errand. But if there was one thing Charles Hannover was good at, it was inventing chores out of thin air.

"What do you think I hired you for, simpleton? To stand there idly? I have a very, very important task for you this morning. Come closer, and I shall show you what it is."

The little boy obeyed, and without betraying how kindly he felt toward the child, Hannover set him down in a comfortable armchair in front of the fireplace. Then he handed him a bag full of important but outdated documents.

"Every single one of them must be burnt to ashes. Do you understand? Not one corner of a page may remain. Burn them one at a time, and burn them slowly."

It took a good long hour for Tim to throw all of those papers, one by one, into the fire. As he watched them turn yellow, fold, and crumble into ashes, he rested long enough to gain all kinds of energy. After that, he went through the house helping the other servants with everything he could.

Tim was always quick to volunteer when he knew someone needed a hand. Every time he finished one chore, he always went around searching for another. But that day, there was one person whom Timothy did not try to help, and that was Sebastian. When it came to the old, grumpy butler, Tim stayed well out of his way. And he never uttered a word about the night before to anyone else in the house.

Author's Note: Wow, it has been so long since I posted a chapter to this story! So sorry for anyone who had to wait! Life got super busy this summer! I had a number of really big projects to work on in addition to editing my upcoming novel, The Magician's Sons, and begin to illustrate a really adorable children's book called Solo the Lucky Duck. These things have kept me busy, nerve-wracked, but having so much fun!  If you enjoyed this chapter of The Treasure of Netherstrand, please consider giving it a like and leaving me a comment! I really enjoy hearing your thoughts! The Treasure of Netherstrand is the first book in a trilogy and is available on Amazon.com both as a paperback and a kindle e-book. Take care!