ght of the breaking day, he looked at Ascher more closely. In his
imagination Ephraim had pictured a wan, grief-worn figure, and now he
saw before him a strong, well-built man, who certainly did not present
the appearance of a person who had just emerged from the dank atmosphere
of a prison! On the contrary, he seemed stronger and more vigorous than
he had appeared in his best days.

"Has he had such a good time of it...?" Ephraim felt compelled to ask
himself... "how different our poor mother looked!"

With a violent effort he repressed the feelings which swelled his bosom.
"Dear father," he said, with tears in his eyes, "make yourself quite
comfortable; you have n't closed your eyes the whole night, you must be
worn out. You are at home, remember... father!"

"It's all right," said Ascher, with a deprecating gesture, "_we_ fellows
know other ways of spending the night."

"_We fellows!_" The words cut Ephraim to the heart.

"But you may be taken ill, father," he timidly observed.

"I taken ill! What do you take me for?" Ascher laughed, boisterously. "I
have n't the slightest intention of failing ill."

At that moment the watchman was heard hammering at the door of the next
house. The reverberating blows seemed to have a strangely disquieting
effect upon the strong man; a violent tremor seized him; he cast one of
the frightened glances which Ephraim had noticed before in the direction
of the window, then with one bound he was at the door, and swiftly
turned the knob.

"Father, what 's the matter?" Ephraim cried, much alarmed.

"Does the watchman look into the room when he passes by?" asked Ascher,
while his eyes almost burst from their sockets, with the intent-ness of
their gaze.

"Never," Ephraim assured him.

"Let me see, wait..." whispered Ascher.

The three well-known knocks now resounded upon their own door, then the
shadow of a passing figure was thrown upon the opposite wall. With a
sigh of relief, the words escaped Ascher's bosom:

"He did not look inside..." he muttered to himself.

Then he removed his hand from the door-knob, came back into the centre
of the room, and approaching the table, rested his hand upon it.

"Ephraim..." he said after a while, in that suppressed tone which seemed
to be peculiar to him, "are n't you going to synagogue?"

"No, father," replied Ephraim, "I 'm not going to-day."

"But they 'll want to know," Ascher observed, and at the words an ugly
sneer curled the cor