“There are soldiers behind me,” Dennen warned.

Dowling laughed. “Kinston volunteers, Father. We know all about ’em. They won’t fire on white men.” The crowd behind him hurrahed. Sam saw worried faces at the windows inside.

“Mike, don’t do this. There’s been enough mayhem for one day.”

“Father, you may as well try to stop the rain.”

From deep in the pocket of his cassock, Father Dennen pulled out an ancient watch. “Mike, it’s two minutes past midnight. This long, shameful day is over. Let the new one begin without blood.”

Dowling grabbed the priest’s arm and held it, unsure what to do next. A devout Catholic, he knew better than to strike a priest.

“Mike, if you care for your immortal soul—”

Made brave by the whiskey, Sam mounted the stairs. He grabbed for the priest to yank him out of Dowling’s grip, but slipped on the wet stone and went sprawling on the steps. It took him two tries to get back up.

Father Dennen said, “Oh, for the love of God—another drunken hero of the white race.”

“I came to help,” Sam said.

“You’ve done enough already. I’m warning both of you, I’ll have you excommunicated!’’

“Father,” Sam said, but he couldn’t think of how to finish it.

From the back of the crowd came shouting. A column of men armed with Winchesters broke through and mounted the steps. At their head was Colonel Waddell, followed by the new sheriff, Walter MacRae. The men fanned out at the top of the steps on either side of Waddell, facing the crowd. Waddell was hatless, as if he’d been roused from sleep and had dressed in a hurry. His silver hair glistened in the rain. He said, “Mike, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Colonel,” Dowling said, smiling, “we’re just carrying out your orders.”

Sheriff MacRae brandished his pump shotgun. “You’ll take those men over my dead body.”

Waddell faced the crowd. “Listen to me, all of you. My position has radically changed. As your mayor, I am now a sworn officer of the law.”

“Mayor?” Dowling said, incredulous. “When did all this happen?”

Many in the crowd were also hearing the news for the first time. There was scattered applause and a few rebel yells.

Waddell said, “This jail and these prisoners must have protection.” A few in the crowd shouted objections. Waddell held up his hands, then spread his arms wide. “There are fifty rifles up here. Special deputies who answer to the law. They will shoot down any man who moves on the jail!” He paused to let that sink in. “We have carried the day and won the field. Now, we must govern impartially. We are civilized people—we cannot abide anarchy.”

Father Dennen crossed his arms and cocked his head, mouth open, as if he could not believe his ears. Sam, too, was stunned at the hypocrisy.