The professor climbed up to a seat beside the hackman, and the hack moved on.
As the carriage turned into Broadway and rolled along that magnificent street, the professor, from his elevated seat, gazed with ever-increasing delight and admiration on the wonders of the great city spread before him.
There were moments when honest Jim Morris was inclined to suspect that, some time within the past few weeks, he must have died, been buried, and risen again to some new stage of existence; so wonderful to him seemed the change in his life. He had not had his satisfaction with gazing when the carriage stopped at the hotel.
Ishmael paid off the hack and gave his arm to the judge, and assisted him into the house.
"Ishmael," he said, as soon as they had reached a sitting room, "have you no other business in New York than to look after me?"
"None whatever. I am entirely at your service."
"Then we—But stop. Are you quite ready to return to Washington at any time?"
"Quite ready to go at a moment's warning, if required."
"Then I think we had better take the early train to-morrow morning, for you ought not to be absent from your office, especially during court term, and even I shall be better at home. We shall need to-day and to-night for rest, but we will start to-morrow. What do you think?"
"I think that is altogether the best plan."