seemed almost interminable. At length, after he had become almost weary
of ascending, he came to a small window, out of which he looked. At his
feet lay the numberless roofs of the city, while not far away his eye
rested on thousands of masts. The river sparkled in the sun, and Paul,
in spite of his concern, could not help enjoying the scene. The sound
of horses and carriages moving along the great thoroughfare below came
confusedly to his ears. He leaned forward to look down, but the distance
was so much greater than he had thought, that he drew back in alarm.

"What shall I do?" Paul asked himself, rather frightened. "I wonder if I
can stand going without food for three days? I suppose nobody would hear
me if I should scream as loud as I could."

Paul shouted, but there was so much noise in the streets that nobody
probably heard him.

He descended the staircase, and once more found himself in the body
of the church. He went up into the pulpit, but there seemed no hope of
escape in that direction. There was a door leading out on one side, but
this only led to a little room into which the minister retired before
service.

It seemed rather odd to Paul to find himself the sole occupant of so
large a building. He began to wonder whether it would not have been
better for him to stay in the poorhouse, than come to New York to die of
starvation.

Just at this moment Paul heard a key rattle in the outer door. Filled
with new hope, he ran down the pulpit stairs and out into the porch,
just in time to see the entrance of the sexton.