street, up Holborn, and down Cheapside, to the Bank (astonishing the natives as we went) we drove, and from thence to St. Katherine’s Dock, where was moored the trim little steamboat chartered to convey Mr. Pierce’s plenipotentiaries safe to Ostend.  Buck was in a sad state of excitement when we stopped; he resembled an individual just escaped from a perilous adventure.  He discharged himself clumsily from the wagon, his face undergoing singular changes of color the while, and cast a few savage glances at Saunders, who very composedly sat on the box endeavoring with might and main to suppress a vagabond laugh.  ‘Now, Saunders,’ indistinctly sputtered the old man, as that bluff-sided individual turned upon his seat, rather knavely casting a comical glance over his shoulder, ’I’m not afraid—­my courage never fails me; but that steamer don’t take me to Ostend if you’re a passenger!  Mind that now!’ Saunders lowered himself gravely from the box, and with serious countenance assured the old man that no danger could result while he drove the team.  In reply to this, the old man declared that with Saunders on board a blowing-up was certain.  The much-dreaded gentleman, however, soon quieted the envoy’s fears by assuring him that accompanying us to Ostend was farthest from his thoughts, he having made all the necessary arrangements for throwing a bomb-shell into the camp from this side of the water, as directed by the Uncle Caleb and the boy Fourney.  Boxes one, two, and three being safely on board, we supported the old governor after them—­Saunders on one side, and Smooth on the other.  Then the bell rang, and the steam thundered and roared, and the little craft glided on her way, Saunders waving his adieus from the wharf, and crying out at the very top of his voice—­’Don’t forget Cuba!’ and ‘go it, Buck!  Go it, Smooth!!’

CHAPTER XX.

ARRIVAL AND GRAND RECEPTION AT OSTEND.

“Our passage was attended with extremely pleasant weather; and nothing remarkable occurred, except that the Dutch crew thought Mr. Buckhanan a very great man, and the object of his mission the overthrow of European dynasties in general.  Twice they undertook to regale him with sour-krout, which he pronounced inferior to that made in York county, Pennsylvane.  As to me, they declined to be convinced that I was not Governor of Kentucky, having a singular belief in the peculiarities of that State for growing long citizens—­the tallest man always being elected governor.  Perhaps I should have added that the Schiedam was only tolerable, the brandy bad; and that Buck, having forgotten his tobacco, was compelled to resort to very bad Dutch loggerhead, with which he kept the swabs busily employed.