Even Captain Thompson felt apparently relieved of his anxiety as he looked abroad upon the beauties of nature and beheld no indications of the day of doom.

He saw no anger in the heavens; he heard no moans from the distressed animals instinctively snuffing the near approach of danger and death; he breathed no stifled and sulphurous atmosphere nor witnessed any other sign of the near approach of a terrible calamity.
He even ventured to express an opinion that "the prophecy of that old rascal Cochran would not prove true after all." We reached Newbern in the afternoon, and found everybody gazing at the heavens with eager looks, in which it would be difficult to say whether fear or curiosity predominated.

Many would not venture to bed till their hopes were made certain by the striking of the midnight hour; and then they were so overjoyed at what appeared a new lease of life, that sleep, that "sweet restorer," was a stranger during the night.

In the morning, however, a gloom was again cast over the spirits of some of the most superstitious by the remark of a meddlesome old West India captain, that undoubtedly Cochran, like the seers of olden times, made his calculations according to the "old style" of computing time.

Thus twelve additional days were allowed to pass before they dared give a full loose to their joy at the failure of the prediction.
After we had discharged our cargo in Newbern, I indicated to Captain Thompson that I should like to pass a few days on shore, take respite from labor, look around the town, and take note of the place and its inhabitants.
He admitted the reasonableness of my proposition, but took decided measures to prevent my being led astray by bad company.