CHAPTER XXIIL THE ECLIPSE OF THE iZTH JULY i860. ^HE mists did not disperse. The sun shone feebly throngh thick curtains of fog, and the astronomer began to have a great dread lest the eclipse should not be visible after alL Sometimes the fog was so dense that the summit of the cape could not be seen from the court of the fort. Hobson got more and more uneasy. He had no longer any doubt that the convoy had gone astray in the strange land; moreover, vague apprehensions and sad forebodings increased his depression. He could not look into the future with any confidence — why, he would have found it impossible to explain. Everything apparently combined to reassure him. In spite of the great rigour of the winter, his little colony was in excellent health. No quarrels had arisen amongst the colonists, and their zeal and enthusiasm was still unabated. The surrounding districts were well stocked with game, the harvest of furs had surpassed his expectations, and the Company might well be satisfied with the result of the enterprise. Even if no fresh supply of provisions arrived, the resources of the country were such that the prospect of a second winter need awake no misgivings. Why, then, was Lieutenant Hobson losing hope and confidence? He and Mrs Barnett had, many a talk on the subject ; and the latter did all she could to raise the drooping spirits of the command- ing ofllcer, urging upon him all the considerations enumerated above ; and one day walking with him along the beach, she pleaded the cause of Cape Bathurst and the factory, built at the cost of so much suffering, with more than usual eloquence. " Yes, yes, madam, you are right," replied Hobson ; " but we can't help our presentiments. I am no visionary. Twenty times in my soldier's life I have been in critical circumstances, and have never lost presence of mind for one instant ; and now for the first time in my life I am uneasy about the future. If I had to face a positive
