Apparently still befuddled over the morose reaction to finding a fortune, Thomas shrugged. “Certainly.” His eyes went glassy as he reached deep into his storehouse of memory. “My mother died young, leaving Father and me behind. He took me with him to Scotland where his old friend, Mr. Hancock, employed him in various roles. When Father heard the Jacobite rebels were moving on England, we packed our cart to flee. Just before we left, Mr. Hancock brought a strongbox containing sixty-four hundred guineas, ostensibly shared by the Hancocks and Ashfords. He asked my father to cross the border, hide it, and then contact him. My father signed a contract promising to do just that. Mr. Hancock gave us one hundred pounds for expenses, and we left immediately. We crossed at Carlisle only hours ahead of the advancing Jacobites, my father pushing the poor mules beyond their limits.”
He paused for a moment, shaking his head. Barlow placed a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Was your home in Coniston then?”
“No. My father hailed from Cornwall, the length of England from here. It seemed, though, as if the invaders followed our trail. Father veered to the west at Penrith, and then again at Ambleside. As we entered Coniston, he began to smile again for the first time in days. ‘Perfect,’ he said. He deposited me and the box in a room at the Black Bull and left me to guard the gold for several days. A bundle of nerves I was, frightened of every strange noise. When Father returned, we hid the box on The Old Man under cover of darkness. It lies there still… as promised.”
With that, his eyebrows shot upward. “I almost forgot. The contract. I carry it with me always.”
He pulled a pouch from his coat, extracted a worn piece of paper, and offered it to Adam. Adam waved a hand. “We believe you, Mr. Chance. You have discharged your duties well. I am sure your father smiles on you even now.”
Thomas glowed at the remark. “Thank you, sir. It has been my privilege to serve your families. And now, if you don’t mind, we have plenty of daylight in which to retrieve the gold. Shall we?”
Adam wanted to disagree, if only to postpone by another day the end of his astonishing friendship with Jane. He cut his eyes toward Jane to find her looking just as miserable as he felt. However, little time remained to obtain the gold and return it to London before the deadline. An additional day was a luxury they did not possess. He reluctantly surrendered to the suggestion.
“Yes, Thomas. Let us unload our baggage at the Black Bull so our horse might carry whatever we find.”
As he led Beelzebub toward the inn, every step seemed to carry him away from Jane and into a future made suddenly bleak by her inevitable absence.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Old Man proved a formidable obstacle to Jane’s body and spirit. Still weakened from the fever, she climbed slowly, clutching Beelzebub’s halter for support. Relieved of his burden, the horse seemed pleased to drag her up the steep and uneven slope. More difficult than the challenge to her body, though, was the assault on her very essence. The massive fell loomed before her as Olympus, and its capricious gods threatened to destroy her over the single toss of a coin. Regardless of how the coin landed, they would exact a price from which she might never recover.
“Watch there, Jane. Take care where you step.”
Adam stood some ten feet ahead, marking a particularly rocky section of ground. He held out his hand and guided her across the rugged surface. Afterward, he released his grip but continued to hover. His hollow gaze betrayed an expectation of impending disaster, mirroring hers completely. Every traverse, every step, every labored breath propelled them nearer to a dismal end for one of them. Though they traveled side by side, every moment drove them further apart. Along the way, they passed several abandoned mines, each mute testimony to another’s shattered dreams. She tore her mind from the crushing thoughts by forcing her attention to the conversation among Thomas, Barlow, and Aunt Hester.
“That old, you say?” said Aunt Hester.
“Yes, ma’am.” Thomas nodded and spoke between heavy breaths. “The oldest of the mines stretches back to Roman times, slate mostly. Copper mining came later when German miners learned how to drive deeper shafts.”
“They appear to lie abandoned now,” noted Barlow. “Have all the veins run dry?”
“Mostly, sir. The remaining copper lies deep. The cost to extract it outweighs any profit. When I was young, Macclesfield Copper Company employed half the town. However, the shafts began playing out some twenty years ago. They sold off the last of their assets two years back, leaving agriculture alone to sustain Coniston.”
“I see. Then the failed crops would not have helped.”
“No, sir.” Thomas halted to catch his breath and survey Coniston below, which appeared small and fragile from such a height. “Three failed crops in sequence have done serious harm. In fact, I fear the town will not survive. Families who have lived here for centuries find themselves in dire straits and face the risk of starving should they remain. Many of them plan to leave before winter.”
The low tenor of his voice accentuated a deep sense of loss. Jane understood. Loss seemed the abiding theme of this journey. To climb to the mountaintop only to be thrown down into the pit. She released the horse, lifted her skirt above her shoes, and stepped up to stand before the elderly man.
“You have my sympathies, Mr. Chance. If I could, I would bequeath you the gold so that you might spare the town.” She turned to Barlow. “Is such an action possible?”
The solicitor shook his head sadly. “No, I’m afraid. The contract consigns the full collection of sixty-four hundred coins to Mr. Rutley. Should you give away even one, I’ve no doubt he would work tirelessly to see you in Newgate Prison rather than debtor’s prison.”
She lowered her eyes to study the rough terrain on which she stood. The unyielding rocky surface proved an apt metaphor for her intractable circumstances.
“I am sorry, then,” she said. “It seems nothing noble can be done for any of us.”
She raised her gaze to find Thomas nodding, his eyes shining with emotion. He held her regard for a moment, commiserating, before wiping his eyes and turning away. “Come now, Miss Hancock. The goal lies only a few hundred steps distant.”
The old man began climbing again, dragging the rest of them into reluctant motion. They traversed twice more, gaining altitude with each step. Finally, Thomas halted beside yet another abandoned shaft. Jane once again released the horse’s halter to stand beside the nondescript opening. She looked at Thomas and cocked her head in question.
“The gold lies inside, ma’am.”
Adam peered into the darkness. “Whose mine is this?”
“Yours, sir. And Miss Hancock’s. My father purchased the mining rights of this entire section on behalf of your great-grandfathers. He acquired a ninety-nine-year lease for a pittance. All the slate had been taken, you see, leaving the area worthless. We hid the box inside the mine in a discreet location. For fifty years, we watched the place daily to ensure no one went poking where they weren’t allowed. After the mines began to fail, nobody cared enough to even poke.”
“The box is still there, then.” Adam’s words were a statement of fact rather than question. Thomas nodded.
