But to-day Barclay told Mr. Grahame all about his strange adventure at the old windmill, and of the interview that would take place at twelve.
“O daddy dear,” said little Maud, “I have seen him. He stays at the Angler’s Arms. Such a droll old creature; not big, but so broad and so brown, with a tuft of hair on his chin just like our nannygoat. I ran to the other side of the street.”
“Why, dear?”
“Oh, because his eyebrows were so big and bushy, and because his eyes shone and sparkled so, I was afraid!”
“I’m not at all afraid now,” said Barclay bravely.
A few minutes after this the boy might have been seen trotting along towards the lonesome bluff on which the windmill stood.
CHAPTER III
CAPTAIN ANTONIO’S GLASS EYE
“Ha! dearie,” cried the little weird-looking man as Barclay approached, “so here we are. There’s nothing like punctuality. I’ve been all over the world, and I know that. We’ll sit down on the grass, and have a little talkee-talkee.”
There had been a little feeling of uneasiness in Barclay’s mind as he first approached Antonio, for that was the name he chose to be known by.
And, indeed, he looked far from canny. He was a man that few boys would have cared to venture near. He gave one the appearance of being old at one moment, and young the next; at one moment fierce as a panther, and next gentle as a lamb. His face was weather-beaten in the extreme, but hair and beard were as black as coal. Though small in stature, he gave one the idea of a man of gigantic strength. And so he was, as the story will show.