There were no ships either at the quarantine or at the commercial roads, and I could not see that it made much difference where I anchored.

But a negro chap, a sort of deputy harbormaster, coming along, thought it did, and he ordered me to shift to the other anchorage, which, in truth, I had already investigated and did not like, because of the heavier roll there from the sea.

And so instead of springing to the sails at once to shift, I said I would leave outright as soon as I could procure a chart, which I begged he would send and get for me.

"But I say you mus' move befo' you gets anyt'ing't all," he insisted, and raising his voice so that all the people alongshore could hear him, he added, "An' jes now!" Then he flew into a towering passion when they on shore snickered to see the crew of the _Spray_ sitting calmly by the bulwark instead of hoisting sail.

"I tell you dis am quarantine" he shouted, very much louder than before.