I waved my walking stick in reply, and as soon as he could get on board he grasped my hand. Excusing myself from Miss May for a moment, I followed him some steps away. "Confound you!" I said, "my name is not Camran, but Camwell." "It used to be 'Camran,' I'll take my oath to that," he replied. "But, whatever name it is, how are you? Going to stop here, I hope." "Till evening," I answered, for I feared if I told him the truth he might tell it to other passengers, who would be sure to run across him. "Now, answer me a question. Is Eggert's place in quarantine?" It was not, for which I was profoundly grateful. If I was to stay in St. Thomas at all I wanted to stay at the Quarantine Station, where I had been before--the only quarantine in the world where a man is happier inside than out. I went to tell Miss May that we could go to Eggert's, and then to ask my stateroom steward to have my baggage brought on deck. "I don't want you to tell anybody that I leave the boat here," I said, flourishing a five dollar bill in his face. "Now, mind!" He promised. The baggage came duly up and two boats were engaged to take us directly to Eggert's. With the lightest heart I had known for a year, I helped my fair companion down and heard the oars of our negro boatmen splash in the waters of the harbor. CHAPTER XIII. BATHING IN THE SURF. There was something really delightful in the way Eggert received me. (I am not going to put "Mister" before his name--even his wife does not do that, in ordinary conversation.) He heard "Laps," the dog, barking violently and came to the veranda to ascertain the reason. "Do you know me?" I asked. "Know you!" he said, grasping both my hands heartily, and looking from me to Miss May. "Of course, I know you. Where did you come from? I am so happy to see you again!" I introduced my "cousin," and he gave her as cordial greeting as he had given me. "Why, even Laps knows you," he said, as the dog barked and capered around us. "Mother will be very glad to see you. You came on the Madiana? How good you were to think of us and come out here!" Mrs. Eggert soon appeared and answered my numerous questions. The eldest daughter was married and lived in the town. The children had gone there to spend the day, but would soon return. Of course we were going to remain to dinner. When I said we might stay a week or more, it was plain that we were very welcome. Rooms were assigned us, on one of the verandas, I having my old one, by special request, and Miss May the one next to mine. Eggert walked up and down with me, smiling broadly and talking of the old days when our party was quarantined there. There never was another party like it, he insisted. He produced a large photograph that he had taken of the entire group, with donkeys and negroes in the foreground.