After the arrival of Bruce and Bart, Captain Corbet did not delay his departure much longer.  The vessel was already afloat, and though the tide was still rising, yet the wind was sufficiently favorable to enable her to go on her way.  The sails were soon set, and, with the new boat in tow, the Antelope weighed anchor, and took her departure.  For about two hours but little progress was made against the strong opposing current; yet they had the satisfaction of reaching the mouth of the river, and by ten o’clock, when the tide turned and began to fall, they were fairly in the bay.  The wind here was ahead, but the strong tide was now in their favor, and they hoped for some hours to make respectable progress.

During this time they had all kept an anxious lookout, but without any result.  No floating craft of any kind appeared upon the surface of the water.  Coming down the river, the sky was unclouded, and all the surrounding scene was fully visible; but on reaching the bay, they saw before them, a few miles down, a lofty wall of light-gray cloud.  Captain Corbet waved his hand towards this.

“We’re in for it,” said he, “or we precious soon will be.”

“What’s that?” asked Phil.

“Our old friend—­a fog bank.  You’d ought to know it by this time, sure.”

There it lay, a few miles off, and every minute brought them nearer.  The appearance of the fog threw an additional gloom over the minds of all, for they saw the hopeless character of their search.  Of what avail would it be to traverse the seas if they were all covered by such thick mists?  Still nothing else was to be done, and they tried to hope for the best.

“Any how,” said Captain Corbet, “thar’s one comfort.  That thar fog may go as quick as it come.  It ony needs a change of wind.  Why, I’ve knowed it all vanish in half an hour, an the fog as thick as it is now.”

“But sometimes it lasts long—­don’t it?”

“I should think it did.  I’ve knowed it hang on for weeks.”

At this gloomy statement the boys said not a word.

Soon after the schooner approached the fog bank, and in a little while it had plunged into the midst of its misty folds.  The chill of the damp clouds, as they enveloped them, struck additional chill to their hearts.  It was into the midst of this that poor Tom had drifted, they thought, and over these seas, amidst this impenetrable atmosphere, he might even now be drifting.  In the midst of the deep dejection consequent upon such thoughts, it was difficult for them to find any solid ground for hope.

The wind was moderate, yet adverse, and the schooner had to beat against it.  As she went on each tack, they came in sight of the shores; but as time passed, the bay widened, and Captain Corbet kept away from the land as much as possible.  All the time the boys never ceased to maintain their forlorn lookout, and watched over the sides, and peered anxiously through the mist, in the hope that the gloomy waters might suddenly disclose to their longing eyes the form of the drifting boat and their lost companion.