My father had an inn near the sea. It was a quiet place. One day,
an old man came to our door. He was tall and strong, and his face
was brown. His old blue coat was dirty and he had a big old box
with him. He looked at the inn, then he looked at the sea.
My father came to the door.
At first the old man did not speak. He looked again at the sea,
and at the front of the inn.
‘I like this place,’ he said. ‘Do many people come here?’
‘No,’ said my father.
‘I’m going to stay here,’ said the old man. ‘I want a bed and
food. I like watching the sea and the ships. You can call me
Captain.’
He threw some money on the table. ‘That’s for my bed and my
food,’ he said.
And so the old captain came to stay with us. He was always
quiet. In the evenings he sat in the inn and in the day he watched
the sea and the ships.
One day he spoke to me. ‘Come here, boy,’ he said, and he
gave me some money. ‘Take this, and look out for a sailor with
one leg.’
He was afraid of that sailor with one leg. I was afraid too. I
looked for the man with one leg, but I never saw him.
Then winter came, and it was very cold. My father was ill, and
my mother and I worked very hard.
Early one January morning, the captain went to the beach. I
helped my mother to make the captain’s breakfast. The door
opened and a man came in. His face was very white and he had
only three ringers on his left hand. I could see that he was a sailor.
‘Can I help you?’ I asked.