The chiming bells rang loud and clear through the air. Timothy's busy hands slowed their work as he heard it. To him, it was the most beautiful music, and it was calling him away to the big church in town.

He glanced at the maids in the kitchen questioningly and watched them for a moment. They had been slaving away all day long, making pastries, teas, and all good things for the guests. It had been a constant rush to make sure that everyone in Hannover's magnificent hotel were served and satisfied, and the work wasn't finished yet. Timothy had had his fair share of the work. Everyone seemed to need him all the time, and he was more than happy to help. But now, he was tired, and the distant bells made him think how nice it would be to sit and listen to the Bible being read.

"Mary," Timothy began, listening to the last toll of the bell. "Are them the church bells I 'ear?"

"That's right, love," the woman answered, never ceasing her work.

The boy fidgeted, with a little smile on his face, as he continued. "I used t' sit right close t' the church's door back where I used t' live. An' the old minister there, he always said the nicest fings. Did ya ever go t' listen to 'im?"

Mary gave a nice smile. She swept a stray strand of hair away from her plump face, dusted the flour off of her hands, and began untying her apron. "I've sat through a good many sermons, dearie," she answered. "And since I've got a few minutes on me 'ands, I'm off to 'ear one now. I always go to church if I can. It's what me mum an' dad raised me to do. They always said it was our duty to go to church."

"Duty?" the little boy asked quizzically. "But ain't a duty somefing like 'ard work? I don't fink goin' t' church is 'ard at all! I like it! But...I don't reckon I can go, can I Mary? Do errand boys get t' go t' church on a Sunday?"

Mary chuckled. "Don't know, love. You'll 'ave to ask Hannover that one."

Asking Hannover anything wasn't an easy or pleasant-seeming task. There was something about the man's severe, complaining temper that intimidated most people. But Timothy wasn't frightened a bit. He ran upstairs right away and snuck to his master's door without being seen by any of the guests. Then, after knocking quietly, he slipped into the room.

Mr. Hannover didn't hear the child enter. He was standing in front of his big mirror, working very hard to make himself look sophisticated and fashionable. He was wearing a fine black suit, with a patterned waistcoat and a gold watch chain that shined dazzlingly. There were white gloves on his hands, a tall black hat on his head, and a smirk of admiring satisfaction on his face. On a normal day, Hannover's tidy outfit was rather simple. But on Sunday, every show of finery came to bear witness to his wealth.

"Well, Hannover," the man thought aloud, "I say, you're looking rather well in that new gold chain! And the hat does just the trick! Now I wonder if anyone else will notice? How could they not? It isn't every fellow who wears a chain and watch like this one. I'm bound to stand out in the crowd. The new minister will surely notice me, and—"

Feeling a little awkward, Timothy cleared his throat and knocked again. Hannover gave a start, silencing himself.

"What in the blazes are you doing there?" the man asked, only slightly perturbed.

"Well, sir, I came t' ask you a question. Just a little question, if ya please, sir." Tim answered in an appeasing voice. "It's about Sunday an' church."

"I suppose you are going to ask for Sunday off from now on," Hannover interrupted. "The answer is absolutely not. Sunday may be a day of rest to some, but never to a businessman. There is no rest in this house. It is always work, work, work! Especially on Sunday! Sunday is just the day when all of the guests like to stay indoors chatting after church services."

Timothy's hopeful eyes dimmed with a look of deep disappointment. It sent a pain of guilt and sympathy straight to Hannover's heart.

"But that isn't to say that you must work the whole day through either," he added. "We all take an hour or so off of work to attend church. It is, after all, the only respectable thing to do. Netherstrand can never be left unmanaged, but there are church services in the morning and in the evening, so we take turns. A handful of us go early, and in the later hours, the rest of us go. It is my usual practice to attend the morning service, but I am running late today, so I am heading out this evening. You may attend church now too, if you wish."

Light and joy brightened the child's face like the morning sun. "Can I, sir?" he asked excitedly. "Oh, fanks ever so much! If it's all the same t' you, I really would like t' go!"

Hannover nodded. But when Timothy had said that he wanted to go, the man hadn't imagined that the little boy had meant that he wanted to go with him. Even so, that was just how it happened. Later that evening, Hannover was strolling down the road, looking suave and important, and little Timothy was skipping along behind him, looking common and rather shabby.

Hannover glanced over his shoulder at the child. Tim was walking with bounding, dancing steps. And as he went, he hummed and whistled to himself. A hint of jealousy touched the man's heart. What was this unbounded joy the little boy showed? Timothy was living in perfect peace. Peace! That was something Hannover never had.

"What is all this singing about?" he asked at last, confronting the child with a curious frown. "What have you to be so happy about? Really, the ruckus you make! Is life so merry that you have to go around like that all the time?"

Tim giggled. "I should say it is!" he answered brightly. "I'm always 'appy when I'm finkin' about Jesus! An' I likes t' sing! Singin's just about like prayin'! Don't you feel like prayin' when you sing, sir?"

"How should I? I don't have time to sing!" his master answered bluntly. Not to mention, I don't dare to sing! Hannover added silently, cringing as he imagined the hoarse sound he would have made if he had tried to croon. Perish the thought!

Timothy blinked up at the gentleman in surprise. "Oh," he said, a little baffled. "But then...don't ya never feel like singin' when ya pray? I fink that'd do just as well."

Hannover swallowed hard. A sting of conviction came to his heart. Pray? he repeated to himself, conscience burning. Come to think of it, he didn't have time to pray either. He hadn't prayed in goodness knew how long. He was too busy, too distracted with business and life itself. Forcing his shame away, he straightened his shoulders and wiped a look of worry off of his face.

Oh bosh! he told himself. What does it matter? I'm doing my Christian duty. I am going to church, and I'm going to listen to the word of God and pray with the rest of them! Then, I've got to get back home! I have taken time away from some very important business in order to attend church! Now that ought to mean something!

He fought, and struggled, and tried to justify himself all the way to church. But by the time he reached the big, beautiful building, he looked like a troubled sinner rather than a good Christian man. He tried over and over to push his shame away, but he knew it was still lurking in the shadows of his heart, trying to resurface and plague him.

Timothy had never gone to the grand church which Mr. Hannover attended. It was a beautiful place with a tall belfry tower and several steps leading up to the door. When Hannover reached it, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Timothy drew back a step.

"Well, why did you stop?" he asked, looking back at him.

"'Cause, sir, I ain't never gone inside. I s'pect they wouldn't want the likes o' me in there."

"Oh...I do see your point," Hannover admitted, eyeing the child critically. "But you don't look too bad in the clothes I gave you. If you looked less than decent, I assure you, I wouldn't have kept you in my house! And what is good enough for my house is certainly good enough for church."

He turned to the doorkeeper who was holding the door open for the crowds. "Would you show this little fellow to a back pew somewhere out of the way?" he asked.

"That I will, sir. But I'm afraid there're only two seats left. The place is rather crowded this evenin'. Everybody's anxious to hear the new minister speak, you see. And they be come from all over! Come, sir, I'll show the both of you to your seats."

Hannover and Timothy followed. Every pew was full to bursting with men and women. But, far away, at the very back of the church, two small chairs were still vacant.

"Well, I never!" Hannover muttered. "Are you truly certain these are the —only— seats available?" He looked at the doorkeeper as if pleading for an alternative. But the man shrugged his shoulders.

"It's this or stand, sir. Make your choice."

Grumbling under his breath, Hannover dropped into the hard wooden chair, looking a little red from humiliation. His situation got even worse as Timothy climbed into the seat right beside him, grinning radiantly. To be seated so close, looking so familiar with the ragged vagabond, was a fate worse than...well, worse than something; Hannover couldn't decide what.

The truth was, in a distant recess of his memory, he could recall spending many a Sunday sitting beside people who had been no better off than Timothy. No one would have guessed it by looking at him now, but Charles Hannover had once been as common as a baker's son could be. But common hadn't meant shabby or low-born. There was a pride which went with Hannover's name, and it had swelled as large as his wealth had grown.

Soon, all of the people in the church had settled down, and the minister appeared at the pulpit. He was a rather young, pleasant-looking man, and Timothy liked him right away.

The little boy mimicked all of Hannover's motions, bowing his head when it was time to pray and sitting up tall and still. He tried to keep very quiet, but as soon as the minister began to read from the Bible, the lad's heart leapt with uncontrollable delight. He wiggled happily as the words began echoing through the church.

"Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you..."

Timothy couldn't help himself. His heart was bursting with joy. He knew that verse. He had heard it before. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he jumped up from his seat shouting, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me!"

His voice rang and echoed through the grand building, sounding louder than the church organ itself. The congregation gave a gasp of surprise. Every head turned to look at the interrupter. There was Timothy's beaming face, his smile shining bright in the dusky shadows of the building. And there sat Hannover, turning red and white by turns as he ached with embarrassment. He scooted just a little further away from the exuberant child. But it did no good. The crowd was looking at him as well as at Timothy.

From the pulpit, the minister cleared his throat, trying to stop a fit of merry laughter from bursting out of him. The man was an earnest Christian. He had taken his profession with a sincere heart, and he truly loved God.

"Well," he began, still smiling, "at least I know that there are some people giving good heed to my message. Indeed, I am happy to believe that you have all been very attentive in listening. And, now that it comes to my mind, I would have you turn your pages to the book of James." From there, the man read the verse which talked about being a doer of God's word and not a hearer only.

Hannover was half afraid that this new verse would prompt another outburst from Timothy, but Tim had never heard it before. He listened quietly, only whispering the words over and over to himself to commit them to memory.

"But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves."

Hannover heard no more of the minister's sermon. All he could hear was that one passage echoed over and over again as Timothy committed it to memory. The words sounded from Tim's lips so many times that they were soon stuck fast in Hannover's mind.

Be ye a doer of the word, the man repeated to himself. But a doer of what word? God's, I suppose. Well, that can't be terribly difficult. As long as a person keeps himself honest and respectable, I can't see him being very far off from keeping God's words.

But then, the verse which Timothy had blurted so excitedly came back to his mind, If ye have done it unto the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.

In that chapter, the Lord had set those caring, righteous souls on his right hand, but he had separated another group; a selfish, uncaring, unrighteous group. They hadn't given to the needy or cared for the sick. Did God really require such a thing as charity?

Hannover hung his head, feeling tired of his troublesome thoughts. This is utterly ridiculous! It's really quite absurd! To think that I would be sitting here actually questioning my own merits! Why, I'm not such a bad man! I'm not a bad one at all! I've never hurt anyone, never slandered, or cheated, or lived a riotous life! I am a quiet, honest sort of man! More than that, I am a Christian! Why should I question any of my morals or lifestyle when they are obviously, unquestionably amiable?

When the sermon was over, Hannover got up in a hurry. He pushed himself toward the doorway, almost hoping to leave Timothy behind, but the little boy scrambled after him.

The child felt just a little bit frightened by the pushing of the crowd, and he wasn't sure if he knew his way back to Netherstrand from this strange, new church.

With panicked haste, he raced to catch up with his master and seized the man's hand. Hannover looked down at him in dismay. The fatherless child was always there, always needing things. Above all, the lad seemed to need him!

Why did I ever get myself into this mess? If I had only carried my own luggage that day at the train station, I could have spared myself all of this hassle! All the expense! And now, everyone is gawking at me as if I was some odd spectacle! What must they all think? What will this do to my reputation?

Just before he walked through the open door, red-faced and devastated, he heard the preacher calling.

"Excuse me, sir!" the minister began. Hannover stopped, looking doomed and humiliated. But beside him, still holding onto his hand, Timothy was glowing with cheer. The preacher smiled as he came closer. "I couldn't help wishing to speak with you about your son," he said, giving Tim a friendly glance.

"Son!" Hannover sputtered, turning white with horror at the thought. He swallowed hard and tried to pull away from the child's grasp. "My good man, you have made a dreadful mistake! This child is not related to me! Not in any way whatsoever! Not a trifle of my blood runs through his veins! He is an orphan!"

The young minister looked taken aback. After a startled instant, he scrambled to right his wrong. "My sincere apology!" he exclaimed. "You must understand, I have not been a resident of this town for more than a week, and I am still striving to acquaint myself with my congregation. Let me now make the acquaintance of you and this excellent child. You have both captivated my attention!"

Hannover felt baffled. Had he called the little boy "excellent"? Before he could gather his senses, Timothy took charge of the introductions.

"'Ullo, Mr. Minister! Me name's Timothy!" the lad said brightly. "Just Timothy, sir. I got that name while I was in the workhouse. An' I ain't never known no other name, sir, 'cause I never knew me mum or dad! I s'pect they're both in Heaven. But, d'ya know, sir, people are always a-sayin I ain't got no father! An' it just ain't true, sir! Ya see, God's me Heavenly Father! That's what I 'eard another minister say once. An' that means I'm his own child! Everyone what loves Jesus is God's child! Are you one of 'em, sir?"

What a question! What impudence! Hannover hung his head, hiding his burning face.

The preacher smiled with humility. "Yes, I am," he answered in a kind voice. "And I love our Heavenly Father very much. We must always strive to be good children to him, Timothy. We must try always to do what is right, and we must resist the temptation to do wrong. Did you know that, since God is our father, you and I are brothers?"

Tim's smile brightened, and his eyes got big with surprise. "Really, sir?" he gasped. "Did ya 'ear that, Mr. Hannover? That makes you an' me bruvers too, don't it?"

Hannover's flushed face turned white again. Did it? Somehow, he doubted it. But why? Did he think this little vagabond was unworthy to be his Christian brother? Or, was it Hannover who was unworthy?

Not giving the troubled gentleman a chance to speak, Timothy suddenly realized that his master hadn't been introduced yet. "Oh, by the way, this is Mr. Hannover!" the little boy explained quickly. "An' he's such a very good man! He gived me a job, he did! An' he's given me a real nice room t' live in, an' the best grub I ever eat, an' he's ever so kind t' me! I fink he must be the nicest fellow in all of England!"

A second of terrible shame gripped Hannover's heart. Had the boy called him good? Kind? And it was because he had given him "the nicest room and the best food"? The man groaned inside. The vileness of the dusty attic and the plain, cheap meals which Timothy ate were enough to make Hannover cringe. But that was just a fleeting sensation. The next minute, his conscience was silenced by pride.

"How good of you, Mr. Hannover, to take in one of God's little lambs!" he heard the preacher exclaim. "I am forever hearing about the poor street children who are left to starve for lack of pity! I cannot tell you how good it is for you to give him shelter and sustenance!"

Shelter, sustenance, Hannover repeated to himself. Yes, yes, that's exactly what I have given him! Shelter from the wind and rain. He has a room with a good roof and bed! And he certainly hasn't suffered from malnutrition in my house! Why, he eats two hardy meals a day! And believe me, my pocket book shows how much I've done for him! He has a new suit, shoes, and a pocket watch!

The man noticed that several bystanders had heard the minister praising his charitable deed. They were all looking very pleased. Suddenly, Hannover felt pleased with himself too.

"Well...I...I couldn't leave the little fellow to suffer in the elements," he said at last, grinning broadly.

"No, he couldn't!" Tim added brightly, "He took me right off'n the streets, an' he did unto me just as the book said he should! An' blimey," the child interjected suddenly, "I fink I must be the shortest one 'ere!" He giggled, looking up at all of the full-grown men and women around him. "So that must make me 'one o' the least o' these'!" Everyone laughed in pleased humor. Then, the minister bid him and his master farewell.

Hannover felt strange as he left. Once in a while, a splash of shame came to dampen his pride. But he was fighting that with all of his might. Have I done unto him as the book said I should? he mused. Done unto one of the least of these, the Lord's brethren? Have I? His conscience said "no", but he forced reason to say "yes". Of course, I have!

He walked back to his house feeling a little bit fonder of his errand boy than he had felt before. He hadn't tried to release his hand from Timothy's grasp again. They had walked together all the way through town.

Author's Note: Happy Sunday, friends! I meant to publish this chapter yesterday, but...well, it didn't happen! Haha! Anyway, here it is, and I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, please consider giving the chapter a like and leaving me a comment! I love to hear your thoughts! Okay, brief update on this book's sequel. I am still working, working, working on it! It's incredible how many loose strings there are to tie up before a novel is ready for publication. And now my computer is acting like life can't go on much longer! Progress has been slow, but it  --is-- happening! I'm so excited! I can't wait for the launch date of The Gentleman's Treasure! Until then, I'll see you next weekend with another chapter of The Treasure of Netherstrand! Take care!