Into this beautiful basin came the old French navigators more than two centuries ago, and at its head they found a place which seemed to them the best spot in Acadie to become the capital of the new colony which they were going to found here.  So they established their little town, and these placid waters became the scene of commercial activity and of warlike enterprise, till generations passed away, and the little French town of Port Royal, after many strange vicissitudes, with its wonderful basin, remained in the possession of the English conqueror.

“Now,” said Captain Corbet, “boys, look round on that thar, an tell me of you ever see a beautifuller place than this.  Thar’s ony one place that can be compared with this here, an that’s Grand Pre.  But for the life o’ me, I never can tell which o’ the two is the pootiest.  It’s strange, too, how them French fellers managed to pick out the best places in the hull province.  But it shows their taste an judgment—­it doos, railly.”

It was not long before the Antelope had dropped anchor in front of the town of Digby, and Captain Corbet landed with the boys as soon as possible.  There was as good a chance of Tom being heard of here as anywhere; since this place lay down the bay, in one sense, and if by any chance Tom had drifted over to the Nova Scotia shore, as now seemed probable, he would be not unlikely to go to Digby, so as to resume his journey, so rudely interrupted, and make his way thence to his friends.

Digby is a quiet little place, that was finished long ago.  It was first settled by the Tory refugees, who came here after the revolutionary war, and received land grants from the British government.  At first it had some activity, but its business soon languished.  The first settlers had such bright hopes of its future that they regularly laid out a town, with streets and squares.  But these have never been used to any extent, and now appear grown over with grass.  Digby, however, has so much beauty of scenery around it, that it may yet attract a large population.  On landing here, Captain Corbet pursued the same course as at other places.  He went first to one of the principal shops, or the post office, and told his story, and afterwards went to the schooners at the wharves.  But at Digby there was precisely the same result to their inquiries as there had been at other places.  No news had come to the place of any one adrift, nor had any skipper of any schooner noticed anything of the kind during his last trip.

“What had we better do next?”

“Wal,” said Captain Corbet, “we can ony finish our cruise.”

“Shall we go on?”

“Yes.”

“Up the bay?”

“Yes.  I’ll keep on past Ile Haute, an I’ll cruise around Minas.  You see these drifts may take him in a’most any direction.  I don’t see why he shouldn’t hev drifted up thar as well as down here.”

It was Wednesday when they reached Digby.