Getting back to his old place was easier, now that he began to understand the plan of the Columbia; but, when Jack returned, his camp-stool was gone, and he had to sit down on the bare deck or to stand up. He did both, by turns, and he was beginning to feel very weary of sight-seeing, and to wish that he were sound asleep, or that to-morrow had come. "It's a warm night," he said to himself, "and it isn't so very dark, even now the moon has gone down. Why--it's getting lighter! Is it morning? Can we be so near the city as that?" There was a growing rose-tint upon a few clouds in the western sky, as the sun began to look at them from below the range of heights, eastward, but the sun had not yet risen. Jack was all but breathless. He walked as far forward as he could go, and forgot all about being sleepy or tired. "There," he said, after a little, "those must be the Palisades." Out came his guide-book, and he tried to fit names to the places along shore. "More sailing-vessels," he said, "and there goes another train. We must be almost there." He was right, and he was all one tingle of excitement as the Columbia swept steadily on down the widening river. There came a pressure of a hand upon his shoulder. "Goot-morning, my poy. De city ees coming. How you feels?" "First-rate," said Jack. "It won't be long, now, will it?" "You wait a leetle. I sleep some. It vas a goot varm night. De varmest night I efer had vas in Egypt, and de coldest vas in Moscow. De shtove it went out, and ve vas cold, I dell you, dill dot shtove vas kindle up again! Dere vas dwenty-two peoples in dot room, and dot safe us. Ye keep von another varm. Dot ees de trouble mit Russia. De finest vedder in all the vorlt is een America,--and dere ees more vedder of all kinds." On, on, and now Jack's blood tingled more sharply, to his very fingers and toes, for they swept beyond Spuyten Duyvil Creek, which his friend pointed out, and the city began to make its appearance. "It's on both sides," said Jack. "No, that's New Jersey"--and he read the names on that side from his guidebook. Masts, wharves, buildings, and beyond them spires, and--and Jack grew dizzy trying to think of that endless wilderness of streets and houses. He heard what Mr. Guilderaufenberg said about the islands in the harbor, the forts, the ferries, and yet he did not hear it plainly, because it was too much to take in all at once. "Now I brings de ladies," said Mr. Guilderaufenberg, "an' ve eats breakfast, ven ve all gets to de Hotel Dantzic. Come!" Jack took one long, sweeping look at the city, so grand and so beautiful under the newly risen sun, and followed. At that same hour a dark-haired girl sat by an open window in the village of Mertonville. She had arisen and dressed herself, early as it was, and she held in her hand a postal-card, which had arrived for her from Albany the night before. "By this time," she said, "Jack is in the city. Oh, how I wish I were with him!"