Lord Kirkle's Money (Beyond the Western Sea Book #2)

by Avi Narrated by Simon Prebble

Overview

On a cold January day in 1851, twelve-year-old Patrick O'Connell huddles on the deck of the Robert Peel. He is leaving his impoverished home behind in Ireland, while in America, his father is waiting with the promise of a new life. But as Patrick watches the shoreline fade from view, he feels torn with worry. His new friend Laurence Kirkle, who is running away from home, waits for food in the ship's hold. If the captain finds the young stowaways, both boys will be arrested. Will Patrick and his companion be able to reach America safely? A master storyteller, Avi has won many awards including a Newbery Award and Newbery Honor. In this dramatic tale, he vividly depicts the overwhelming difficulties Irish immigrants faced in the mid-1800s. From the unsettling opening to the astonishing finish, Simon Prebble expertly narrates the biting irony and riveting suspense of each exciting plot twist. If you enjoy Patrick's thrilling travels, you won't want to miss his exciting adventures before sailing for America in Beyond the Western Sea Book One: The Escape from Home.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

It is no small feat replicating the narrative style, character types and intricate plotting of a 19th-century serial novel, but Avi continues to accomplish the task with panache in Book Two of his ongoing saga about a family of poor Irish immigrants and the runaway son of an English lord. Just as good as its predecessor, The Escape from Home (Children's Forecasts, Apr. 1), this story begins where that book left off. Siblings Patrick and Maura O'Connell, aboard the Robert Peel on their way to meet their father in the U.S., are sharing cramped quarters with hundreds of other travelers. Lord Laurence Kirkle, robbed of his fortune, is a stowaway, while his two enemies, Mr. Clemspool and Mr. Grout, enjoy the comforts of first class accommodation. The stew of trouble that begins to simmer on ship comes to full boil when Patrick, Maura and Laurence finally set foot on land and discover just what kind of opportunity awaits them in America. Poverty, wretched working conditions, anti-Irish sentiments and news of Mr. O'Connell's death are only a few of the obstacles crossing the youngsters' paths. The future holds some promise for the characters by the time this book ends, but plenty of loose ends remain to whet appetites for another installment. Adventure lovers should not be intimidated by the thickness of this volume. Its short chapters full of clever narrative hooks and fast-paced adventure will keep most readers on the edge of their seats. Ages 11-14. (Oct.)

School Library Journal

Gr 6-9This sequel to Beyond the Western Sea: Book One (Orchard, 1996) continues the adventures of Patrick and Maura O'Connell and their friends Mr. Horatio Drabble and Laurence Kirkle as they sail to America. This book begins with the four on-board ship, with Laurence a stowaway and Maura, Patrick, and Mr. Drabble traveling in steerage. True to its Dickensian flavor, the villains are also on board. On arrival in Boston, all end up in the mill city of Lowell, MA. Patrick and Maura's father has died and the children find themselves facing anti-Irish sentiment, a greedy mill owner, poverty, inhuman working conditions, and, of course, all the villains. The action jumps back and forth from one person to another as their paths cross and recross. All characters "coincidentally" come together at the climax and the villains are vanquished. This is a well-written, but overly ambitious work that suffers from an overabundance of characters. The lack of a major hero and a primary villain fragments the work. Character development is minimal and the many different plots stop and start so often that the focus is lost. Avi's ability to use words and dialogue to develop a strong sense of time and place is evident and his theme that all people are created equal and that evil cannot be blamed on anything but evil individuals is strongly and clearly presented. For that reader who enjoys a well-written historical novel and who will not be deterred by the two-volume length or the complexity of the plots, this will satisfy if not excite.Wendy D. Caldiero, New York Public Library

Product Details

BN ID:	2940170993758
Publisher:	Recorded Books, LLC
Publication date:	11/22/2013
Series:	Beyond the Western Sea , #2
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	8 - 11 Years

Read an Excerpt

Friday, January 24, 1851

Chapter 75

Farewell, England!

A brisk, chill wind and a strong tide bore the Robert Peel down the Mersey River, away from the city of Liverpool and out upon the rolling Irish Sea.

On the main deck stood three hundred and fifty emigrants, most of them Irish. They were of all ages, from children in mothers' arms to the old and hobbled. Virtually everyone was dressed shabbily, though here and there--like plump plums in an otherwise poor pudding--could be seen those of a richer sort. Well-off or poor, most were cold, many weak and ill. All were pondering what would happen to them next. But now that England had been left behind--and the ships gray sails bulked large even as her high, stout prow plowed the waves--there was little the passengers could do but wait anxiously for some word from the ship's captain.

Maura O'Connell, her brother, Patrick, and their friend, .Mr. Horatio Drabble, pressed side by side against the ship's bulk, each lost in thought.

Mr. Drabble, long, lanky, expanded his thin chest and breathed deeply of the rich sea air, hardly believing his good fortune. Just a few days ago he had been trapped in the insufferable misery of Mrs. Sonderbye's Liverpool basement. Now he was sailing to America, the fulfillment of a dream long held. Watching England's coast fade in the distance, he felt the weight of past disappointments drop away. As far as he was concerned, he had already become a new man. His smile was as wide as his face.

Maura O'Connell--brown hair blowing, red shawl aflutter--thought of her mother back in Ireland. While Maura could envision the womanwrapped in black, saying her beads, the girl could not imagine where in the ruins of Kilonny Village she might have found shelter. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

And was not her brother, Patrick, too young, too headstrong? And did she not bear full responsibility for him?

Then there was the actor, Horatio Drabble. Though he had been truly kind and helpful to them in Liverpool, Maura was not certain she knew him. There were times he seemed to be from quite another world, not because he was English, but because he, like Patrick, struck her as more boy than man.

When Maura thought, with some self-chiding, that soon they would be in America with their father, and she could turn over all her responsibilities to him. How well he'd care for them! Maura wanted little but some peace, some quiet, find some work to call her own. How fine that her father, rich man that he was, would provide it. The idea prompted one of Maura's rare smiles.

Patrick O'Connell had no interest in observing either the passing scenery or the other passengers. Nor was he pondering the future. He could think of nothing but Laurence hidden below decks. So it was that he stared fixedly at CaptainRickles--splendid in gray uniform and red mustache--who as standing before the main mast, calling commands to the sailors in the high rigging. As Patrick watched, the first mateapproached the captain, who introduced him to Mr. Drabble's friend, Mr. Grout, and his stout companion whose name Patrick; did not know.

So great was Patrick's worry about Laurence that he simply assumed the subject of their discussion was stowaways.

The notion filled him with dread. He must free Laurence.

Satisfied that Maura was intent upon her own thoughts, Patrick murmured, 'I'm going to watch from over there."

"Don't go far," Mr. Drabble cautioned. "They'll be letting, us below soon."

Small and wiry, Patrick had little trouble slipping through the crowd to the opposite side of the ship. Once there, he climbed the ratlines a ways and held on, toes curling over the ropes. From this roost he studied the main deck in search of some entry into the bottom hold. Only now did he admit to himself that he had no clear idea where or what the bottom hold was. In all his twelve years he had never been on such a boat. The words had made sense in Liverpool. when Fred told him where he'd hidden Laurence.

They didn't make sense now.

Looking about, Patrick noticed a sailor emerge from a closet like structure almost directly below the main mast. Would that be a way? he asked himself.

As soon as the sailor moved on, Patrick climbed down from the lines and stole a look inside the small structure. A narrow stairway led down. After checking to see if anyone watching him, Patrick stepped into the alcove, made the sign of the cross, grasped the guide rope, and started to descend.

The first level he reached was dim. Long rows of what appeared to be wide shelves stretched forward and aft into darkness. As for cargo, he saw none. The steps continued down. He went on.

At the next level Patrick discovered a few candles set in mounted glass bulbs. Their small yellow flames illuminated neat rows of boxes and crates. Here, surely, was the bottom hold.

Taking up one of the candles, Patrick made his waytoward the bow of the ship only to come to a sudden, heart pounding stop. Before him gaped an open hatchway. One more step and he would have plummeted down.

From the open square of the hatch a ladder dropped into darkness as black as his hair. Was there yet another, third hold below? Fred's words echoed in his mind: the bottom hold. Patrick stepped onto the ladder and began to climb slowly down.

Candlelight revealed a dark cavelike expanse embraced by enormous arching timbers. Countless casks, barrels, and chests, piled one atop the other, were deployed in rows that seemed to vanish, fore and aft, into murky blackness. The air was humid, clotted with the stench of rot and filth. Sounds of sloshing bilgewater, the creaks and groans of the plunging ship, filled his ears. This, Patrick told himself with dread, must be the bottom hold.

Leaving the ladder, Patrick moved warily in the direction he thought was forward, for Fred had also said the bow.

As Patrick crept along--the rough planking pricking his bare feet--he tried to examine each and every crate in fear of missing the one that bore the telltale X in a circle.

Upon reaching the bow, Patrick held the candle up. A few feet from where he stood he saw a coffinlike box wedged between two great beams as far forward as possible. On the side facing him, Patrick could just make out Fred's mark.

Patrick ran to the box and tapped on it. "Laurence!" he called. "Are you there, Laurence?" When no answer came, he began to claw away at the boards.

Copyright ) 1996 by Avi

Beyond The Western Sea. Copyright © by John Avi. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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