The Night Angel (29 page)

The post gave way with a crack that sounded like gunfire. Falconer flung the man through the railing and out into the dust. Overhead there was a wrenching splinter as the porch roof sagged under its own weight. Falconer leaped down, tumbling into the dust beside Joyner, and came up with his fists at the ready. But Joyner did not move.

The porch roof tore free and smashed down in a rain of dust beside the miner. Two men came stumbling from inside the cabin, both holding muskets, just as the porch’s remaining support beam collapsed. The men raised their hands to protect themselves from falling debris. Before they could re-aim their weapons, Falconer had one disarmed and Joseph the other.

“Theo!”

“All clear!” The big German stood over a pair of men. One groaned and held his head. The other did not move at all. Theo was grinning hugely. “It’s not enough to take the man, you got to fight his house too?”

Falconer stood guard while Joseph roped and tied the men. He rubbed feeling back into his bruised shoulder and said, “Gather up the miners.”

“My name is John Falconer.” There were two cooks and fourteen miners—five from the mill and the woodhouse, the rest from underground. All of them cast astounded eyes at the men who had formerly been their bosses.

Falconer took his time and let them look. Joyner and his six guard lieutenants were roped back to back, all seated in the rear of a mine wagon. Two horses had been set into the traces. Emmett Reeves sat on the driver’s bench, the reins loose in his hands.

“I represent the rightful owners of this mine,” Falconer continued.

Joyner shouted hoarsely, “Ain’t no fancy-pants New York banker gonna come in here and take away what’s mine!”

“Joseph.”

“Suh.”

“Help the gentleman understand the need for silence.”

“You get your thievin’ hands . . .” The voice went muffled as Joseph fitted the rope across the man’s mouth.

“As I was saying, my name is John Falconer, and I represent the owners of this mine. Joyner signed away all but a ten percent share to get the money for that hole you’re digging and that mill you’re feeding.” Falconer studied the men carefully. “I’ve never worked underground. But I’ve known men like Joyner. And my guess is, if he’s holding back from his partners, he’s doing the same with the men who work for him.”

Falconer had hit the proper nerve, for a man in the group yelled, “We ain’t been paid in two months.”

“But you’re bringing out gold?”

“Sure we are!” He pointed to the men whom Theo had bested. “They don’t want us seeing it, but we know. That’s good ore we’re digging! And they been hiding it away!”

“Do you know where?”

None of the men responded.

“All right. My guess is it won’t be far. More than likely they’ve kept it close, planning to make for the hills when they had a big enough haul.” That was not Falconer’s immediate concern, however. “You don’t know me, but if any of you can read, I’ll show you the documents that make me the legal boss of this outfit. If you can’t read, this man’s a lawyer from Charlotte, and he’ll read it to you. I want you men to stay on, and I’ll pay you well. And on time. And I’ll give you a share of the profits.”

One of the man retorted, “Words are cheap, mister.”

“I’m doing away with the guards at the mill’s end. You’ll work the ore from beginning to end, and you’ll see what gold comes out. If the gold is there, you will all have a take. I can’t make it clearer than that.” Falconer turned away, giving the men a chance to talk among themselves. He said to Emmett, “You’ll take these men to Charlotte and hand them over to the sheriff as we discussed?”

“I’ll file charges against them just like you said,” Emmett agreed. “I’m telling you, though, unless you come back and offer testimony, they’ll be out in a matter of days.”

“That’s long enough. Give us time to sort things out here, find men we can trust as guards, and they can do what they like.” Falconer acknowledged Joyner’s furious glare by saying, “Whatever we find, we’ll pass along your ten percent to Mr. Reeves here. Same for everything we recover from the mine from now on. Mr. Reeves will be the only connection you will ever have to this mine or this land. Show your face around here again and it won’t go so easy on you.”

Emmett reached over from the wagon and offered Falconer his hand. “Sir, you are one remarkable man. Mr. Gavi is lucky to have you on his team.”

“Sorry to have entangled you in this,” Falconer replied.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Emmett Reeves flicked the reins. “Giddap there!”

They found the cache of gold just after midnight.

By that point the cabin was reduced to dust and scrap. The miners had all taken a jubilant hand in its destruction. Clearly it had been despised as a symbol of Joyner and his guards.

The miners’ story came out in bits and pieces. Their willingness to talk at all was fueled by how Falconer and Theo and Joseph labored alongside the miners. There were no weapons. The trust Falconer offered was silent but real.

The miners spoke in turns. Mostly the story came from the ones resting, as they sat on the side of the worksite and drank coffee that grew stronger with the night. They spoke of how all the land in the Cabarras Valley area had been settled and farmed long before gold had been discovered. Those who answered the lure of gold had found themselves with no chance of real wealth. But good jobs were hard to find, and miners’ wages were better than farmhands. Most stayed on, meaning there were more workers than jobs. Which meant men like Joyner could promise much and give little. Even the food, they said, had been doled out in meager portions.

When Falconer heard that part of their tale, he ordered the cooking fires relit and the rations store opened. The cooks remained at their oven for hours, doling out flapjacks and smoked bacon and sweet molasses until every man groaned his satisfaction. Falconer let them linger there beneath the stars, savoring the signs of change. He did not ask them to return to work. Instead, he and Joseph and Theo started prying up the floorboards themselves. One by one the miners came over and joined in. Though their faces were wearied by the full day behind them and the next sunrise only hours away, none complained. From time to time they would glance Falconer’s way, as though making certain this man was truly different from the one he had just had carted off. Falconer did not speak because there was nothing to be said. Only time would tell.

The cellar was full of more stores, but no gold. Even so, the men watched hungrily as Falconer drew out sacks of fine white flour and salt beef and jars of sweet pears and syrupy plums and all the things they had dreamed of yet not seen in months. Falconer ordered the goods taken to the rations store for the miners. Even with all the miners helping, it took over an hour to clear out the cellar. By that point, the men were smiling. But the grim weariness turned even their good humor into a dark tragedy.

It was Joseph who discovered the false wall. What they all thought had been the cellar’s outer rim proved to have a loose brick. Joseph pried it out and another gave way, revealing an opening through which an arm could reach. Torches were brought as Joseph reached through and brought out leather sacks the size of a bread loaf. Another and another and more still. Falconer hefted several and concluded they had all been measured out at about fifteen pounds each. He opened the neck of one, turned to the closest miner, and said, “Cup your hands, please.”

The miner’s right hand was scratched and bloody from tearing down the cabin. Falconer poured out a stream of dust and pellets, some as large as musket balls. In the firelight their color was so ruddy as to appear almost red.

The miners crowded in on all sides. The only sound was that of Joseph scrabbling deeper into the secret hold, passing sack after sack into Theo’s hands, and the crackling hiss from their torches.

Falconer asked the miner holding the gold, “I don’t believe I’ve caught your name, sir.”

The miner stared dumbly at Falconer.

The miner to his left nudged him. “Go on, Evault. The man done asked how you’re called.”

“E-Evault, sir.”

“Is that your first or last name, sir?”

“Evault G-Graves, sir.”

“Well, Evault Graves,” Falconer said. “What you hold is yours to keep.”

The man looked from Falconer to the double fist of gold. He dropped to his knees, gripped his hands to his chest, and began sobbing.

The closest miner patted Evault on the shoulder. “His wife ain’t well, sir,” he said to Falconer. “This gold, it means a lot.”

Falconer glanced over to where Joseph was leaning against the wall, staring at the pile of sacks. “How many are there?”

“Thirty-nine have come out,” Theo replied. “I can see more but not reach them.”

“All right.” Falconer lifted his voice so the others could hear him. “Four sacks are Joyner’s. Keep four more here for the miners. Come first light, dole them out evenly among the men.”

When Falconer clambered up from the cellar, Theo scrambled to his feet. “What are you planning?”

Falconer rubbed his shoulder where Joyner had caught him. A massive bruise was forming. Bone weary and filthy from the work, he said, “Bring up the packhorses. I’m leaving now.”

Joseph rose wearily to his feet. “Not alone, you ain’t.”

“Joseph, Theo can’t manage this mine alone.”

“Now, don’t you even start with your arguing, ’cause it won’t do you a bit of good.” Joseph’s chin lifted in determination. “Theo’s got himself a dozen and more good men.”

“I need to get the rest of this gold back and under lock and key before Joyner has a chance to make mischief.”

Joseph crossed his arms and took station over the gold. “All I’m saying is, you just pack up your notion of ridin’ alone and stow it back in your saddlebag, ’cause you’re just wasting time.”

Chapter 24

For several nights now, Serafina had been awakened by faint tendrils of a dream. Half-formed images came and went with bitter swiftness, drawing her awake with gasps of fear. Tonight was the first time Falconer had actually spoken. She crept from her bed and entered the kitchen to light a taper from the stove’s dying coals. Her hands shook as she transferred the light to a candle. She poured herself a cup of well water and drank it slowly. She could not remember what Falconer had said in the dream. Nor could she describe the manner of his speech, if he had been calm or worried or afraid. All she knew for certain was that her friend was very far away and very alone.

She knew she would sleep no more that night. She carried the candle into the dining room, where she lit several more. Quietly she took down the painting on which she had been working, the portrait of the smiling infant, and replaced it with fresh paper.

The candlelight would normally have been an irritation when drawing. Tonight, however, she welcomed it. The light was soft and golden, a comforting enclosure to her chamber. She felt isolated from the rest of the world, and closer to God.

She decided she did not merely wish to sketch John Falconer. She wished to see him take shape beneath her hand, and with every stroke of her pencil she would pray for his safety and his success. And for his swift return.

She drew from memory the first sketch she had done of him. Once again he bowed his head over hands which clenched the pew back. Once more his scar was invisible. Several times she had to stop in her work to breathe away her deep concern. Nevertheless, she continued drawing. And she prayed as she drew.

She felt no need to unravel a mystery for this portrait. Falconer was her friend, and a brother in Christ, and the man who had pointed her toward her Savior. Serafina worked for a while, then took two steps back from the portrait and drew a candle in closer. The image was taking strong form. She could see how she would paint it now. A gentle light would shine down from above. She wiped bittersweet tears from her eyes and reached for her brushes.

Falconer was weary in a manner that no single night’s sleep could ease. He had arrived back in Charlotte with the previous day’s final light. Both his horse and Joseph’s had stumbled as they made their way down the residential street to Emmett Reeves’ home. The lawyer arrived soon after. As he helped Falconer and Joseph stow the heavy sacks in his root cellar, he reported that the sheriff had reluctantly agreed to hold Joyner over, but as the circuit court judge would be in town the next morning, Joyner and his men would no doubt be free by midday. They tucked into his wife’s hearty meal, then fell asleep like dead men.

After a night’s sleep, the three men rode to the Charlotte Mint, the first such establishment outside of Washington. The mint accepted Falconer’s deposits and in return issued a document that could be presented to the Washington Mint in exchange for new American eagle gold dollars.

Falconer took his own share in gold coin.

There was no chance for further rest, for the weekly slave auctions began the very next day in both Rock Mound and Hayesfield. The auctions were across the border in South Carolina, since North Carolina showed a largely hostile attitude to the trade. North Carolina permitted slaves, though they were outlawed by some communities such as Salem. Few North Carolina families actually held slaves, and many churches roundly condemned the practice. To spend as much gold as Falconer intended, he would have to travel south.