Behind these islands lay French squadrons waiting for the English sugar ships. They are calm and silent now, and are never likely to echo any more to battle thunder. Men come and go and play out their little dramas, epic or tragic, and it matters nothing to nature. Their wild pranks leave no scars, and the decks are swept clean for the next comers. FOOTNOTES: [1] [Greek: hô teknon ouch hapanta thô gêra kaka hê empeiria echei ti lexai thôn neôn sophôteron.] CHAPTER III. The tropics--Passengers on board--Account of the Darien Canal--Planters' complaints--West Indian history--The Spanish conquest--Drake and Hawkins--The buccaneers--The pirates--French and English--Rodney--Battle of April 12--Peace with honour--Doers and talkers. Another two days and we were in the tropics. The north-east trade blew behind us, and our own speed being taken off from the speed of the wind there was scarcely air enough to fill our sails. The waves went down and the ports were opened, and we had passed suddenly from winter into perpetual summer, as Jean Paul says it will be with us in death. Sleep came back soft and sweet, and the water was warm in our morning bath, and the worries and annoyances of life vanished in these sweet surroundings like nightmares when we wake. How well the Greeks understood the spiritual beauty of the sea! [Greek: thalassa klyzei panta tanthrôpôn kaka], says Euripides. 'The sea washes off all the woes of men.' The passengers lay about the decks in their chairs reading story books. The young ones played Bull. The officers flirted mildly with the pretty young ladies. For a brief interval care and anxiety had spread their wings and flown away, and existence itself became delightful.