She was drifting down past the north shore of the island. Tom could see, amid the gloom, the frowning cliffs as he drifted past. The firelight was lost to view; then he looked for some time upon the dark form of the island.
At last even that was lost to view.
He was drifting down the bay, and was already below Ile Haute.
XXI.
Scott's Bay and Old Bennie.—His two Theories.—Off to the desert Island.—Landing.—A Picnic Ground.—Gloom and Despair of the Explorers.—All over.—Sudden Summons.
It was on Wednesday evening that the Antelope passed from the sunshine and beauty of Digby Basin out into the fog and darkness of the Bay of Fundy. The tide was falling, and, though the wind was in their favor, yet their progress was somewhat slow. But the fact that they were moving was of itself a consolation. In spite of Captain Corbet's declared preference for tides and anchors, and professed contempt for wind and sails, the boys looked upon these last as of chief importance, and preferred a slow progress with the wind to even a more rapid one by means of so unsatisfactory a method of travel as drifting.
At about nine on the following morning, the Antelope reached a little place called Wilmot Landing, where they went on shore and made the usual inquiries with the usual result. Embarking again, they sailed on for the remainder of that day, and stopped at one or two places along the coast.
On the next morning (Friday) they dropped anchor in front of Hall's Harbor—a little place whose name had become familiar to them during their memorable excursion to Blomidon. Here they met with the same discouraging answer to their question.
"Wal," said Captain Corbet, "we don't seem to meet with much success to speak of—do we?"