The "Dolphin" sped on her way, and her passengers enjoyed their voyage whether the sun shone or the decks were swept by wind and rain; for the saloon was always a comfortable place of refuge in stormy weather, and by no means an unpleasant one at any time. They were all gathered on the deck one bright, breezy morning, chatting cheerily, the children amusing themselves with their tee-tee pets.

"Father," said Lucilla, "are we not nearing the Caribbean Sea?"

"Yes; if all goes well we will be in it by this time to-morrow," was Captain Raymond's reply. "It is a body of water worth seeing; separated from the Gulf of Mexico by Yucatan, and from the Atlantic Ocean by the great arch of the Antilles, between Cuba and Trinidad. It forms the turning point in the vast cycle of waters known as the Gulf Stream that wheels round regularly from Southern Africa to Northern Europe. The Caribbean Sea pours its waters into the Gulf of Mexico on the west, which shoots forth on the east the Florida stream with the computed volume of three thousand Mississippis."

"But, papa, where does it get so much water to pour out?" asked Elsie. "I wonder it didn't get empty long ago."

"Ah, that is prevented by its taking in as well as pouring out. It gathers water from the Atlantic Ocean and the Amazon and Orinoco rivers."

"Papa, why do they call it by that name—Caribbean Sea?" asked Ned.

"It takes its name from the Caribs, the people who were living there when Columbus discovered the islands," said the Captain.

"The Gulf Stream is very important, isn't it, papa?" asked Elsie.

"The most important and best known of the great ocean currents," he replied. "It flows out of the Gulf of Mexico, between the coast of Florida on one side and the Cuba and Bahama islands and shoals on the other."

"The Stream is very broad, isn't it, papa?" asked Grace.

"About fifty miles in the narrowest portion, and it has a velocity of five miles an hour; pouring along like an immense torrent."

"But where does it run to, papa?" asked Ned.

"First in a northeasterly direction, along the American coast, the current gradually growing wider and less swift, until it reaches the island and banks of Newfoundland; then it sweeps across the Atlantic, and divides into two portions, one turning eastward toward the Azores and coast of Morocco, while the other laves the shores of the British islands and Norway, also the southern borders of Iceland and Spitsbergen, nearly as far east as Nova Zembla."

"But how can they tell where it goes when it mixes in with other waters, papa?" asked Elsie.

"Its waters are of a deep indigo blue, while those of the sea are light green," replied her father. "And as it pours out of the Gulf of Mexico its waters are very warm and full of fish and seaweed in great masses. Its waters are so warm that in mid-winter, off the cold coasts of America between Cape Hatteras and Newfoundland, ships beaten back from their harbors by fierce northwesters until loaded down with ice and in danger of foundering, turn their prows to the east and seek relief and comfort in the Gulf Stream."

"Don't they have some difficulty in finding it, father?" asked Lucilla.

"A bank of fog rising like a wall, caused by the condensation of warm vapors meeting a colder atmosphere, marks the edge of the Stream," replied the Captain. "Also the water suddenly changes from green to blue, the climate from winter to summer, and this change is so sudden that when a ship is crossing the line, a difference of thirty degrees of temperature has been marked between the bow and the stern."

"Papa, I know there used to be pirates in the West Indies; was it there that Kidd committed his crimes?"

"I think not," replied her father. "In his day, piracy on the high seas prevailed to an alarming extent, especially in the Indian Ocean. It was said that many of the freebooters came from America, and that they found a ready market here for their stolen goods. The King of England—then King of this country, also—wished to put an end to piracy, and instructed the governors of New York and Massachusetts to put down these abuses.

"It was soon known in New York that the new governor was bent on suppressing piracy. Then some men of influence, who knew of Kidd as a successful, bold and skilful captain, who had fought against the French and performed some daring exploits, recommended him as commander of the expedition against the pirates. They said he had all the requisite qualifications—skill, courage, large and widely-extended naval experience, and thorough knowledge of the haunts of the pirates 'who prowled between the Cape of Good Hope and the Straits of Malacca.'

"A private company was organized, a vessel bought, called the 'Adventure,' equipped with thirty guns, and Kidd given command. He sailed to New York, and on his way captured a French ship off the coast of Newfoundland. He sailed from the Hudson River in January, 1697, crossed the ocean and reached the coast of Madagascar, then the great rendezvous of the buccaneers."

"And how soon did he begin his piracy, papa?"

"I can't tell you exactly, but it soon began to be reported that he was doing so, and in November, 1698, orders were sent to all the governors of English colonies to apprehend him if he came within their jurisdiction.

"In April, 1699, he arrived in the West Indies in a vessel called 'Quidah Merchant,' secured her in a lagoon on the Island of Samoa, southeast of Hayti, and then, in a sloop called 'San Antonio,' sailed for the north, up the coast into Delaware Bay, afterward to Long Island Sound, and into Oyster Bay. He was soon arrested, charged with piracy, sent to England, tried, found guilty and hung."

"There were other charges, were there not, Captain?" asked Mr. Dinsmore.

"Yes, sir; burning houses, massacring peasantry, brutally treating prisoners, and particularly with murdering one of his men, William Moore. He had called Moore a dog, to which Moore replied, 'Yes, I am a dog, but it is you that have made me so.' At that, Kidd, in a fury of rage, struck him down with a bucket, killing him instantly. It was found impossible to prove piracy against Kidd, but he was found guilty of the murder of Moore, and on the twenty-fourth of May, 1701, he was hanged with nine of his accomplices."

"Did he own that he was guilty, papa?" asked Grace.

"No," replied the Captain, "he protested his innocence to the last; said he had been coerced by his men, and that Moore was mutinous when he struck him; and there are many who think his trial was high-handed and unfair."

"Then I hope he didn't deserve quite all that has been said against him," said Grace.

"I hope not," said her father.