Chapters (71)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Part One
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Part Two
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part Three
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Part Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Part Five
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
- About the Author
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Blackie read every word for himself, filled with relief and happiness. He was flying away at last! A thought struck him. “How do I get to Queenstown? Do I walk there, Michael? Or try for a lift?”
“Course not. I will talk to Finn Ryan. His father bought an old gig from His Lordship last year. He, Finn that is, purchased a horse. He has a—a sort of service, taking people where they want to go.”
“I remember. Ye will hire him to take me to the port? Is that it?”
“Yes. With me.”
“I can go alone,” Blackie protested.
“No. I will take charge of things.”
“I’m thirteen. Grown up, Michael.”
“Not quite. Dennis O’Malley will meet us at the docks. He’s going to see you safely on to the boat to Liverpool and then Uncle Pat will take over.”
“I am big for my age, and I can look after myself. Ye taught me to fight good.”
“I did, Blackie, and I trust you. I know you’re capable and all you say is true. But—”
“I’m strong and clever.”
Michael put his hand on Blackie’s arm affectionately. His voice was calm when he said, “Yes, you are, and the world is a weird place, full of strange folk who want to take advantage of a boy.”
Siobhan said, “We want you to be safe, Blackie.”
Five
Tuesday was suddenly busy, as Blackie found himself running hither and yon, getting ready to leave for the port of Queenstown, in neighboring County Cork.
Michael had awakened him early and told him to dress quickly. He was to go with them to the mansion when they went to work. When he asked why, Michael explained that there were things there for him, items he would need.
It was cool on this May morning, the mist still rising from the deep green meadows as they walked up the hill. But the sky was beautiful, a deep cerulean blue dusted with sheer white clouds, like puffballs floating across the vast expanse above them. Blackie, glancing up, saw the edge of the sun. It would grow into a pleasant day, he felt certain.
The three of them walked quickly, and it was not long before they reached Lassiter Hall. They crossed the stable yard and, a moment later, were entering the house through the back door.
The warmth of the kitchen, with its huge fire and busy ovens, enveloped them at once, instantly taking the chill off them all.
“Top of the morning to ye, Cook,” Blackie said, giving Mrs. O’Rourke his brightest smile.
“Ah, there ye are, me boyo,” Cook shot back, a grin on her plump cheeks. They were bright pink from the heat, and her black eyes sparkled. After greeting his cousins, she said, “Put yer coat in the mudroom, lad, and come and have a cup of porridge.”