Poor Moses! A pang went through his heart at the thought that he, whose punctuality and zeal had become proverbial, should be so culpably remiss as to appear in _Shool_ when services were practically over, and a keener pang yet pervaded him when he noticed the expression of wonderment with which his companions and fellow-members gazed at him. Nor did they confine themselves to looks of amazement; but, being finished with their devotions, they gave free expression to their astonishment in questions. “What’s the matter, Levinsky?” he was asked from all sides. “Aren’t you well, or are you getting lazy, or are you turning _link_?” To all these interrogations Moses returned no answer; indeed, he felt morally too much crushed to defend or even to palliate his shortcoming. Gloomily he proceeded to put on his prayer-shawl and phylacteries and with much less fervor than usual he recited the morning prayer. By the time he had concluded his devotions every one else had left except the _Shammas_, who, obliged by his office to remain, had waited impatiently to lock the synagogue, and who felt considerably aggrieved at Moses for having caused him to lose so much of his valuable time, which might have been utilized for collecting a bill or arranging a _Shidduch_. Listlessly Moses left the room and directed his feet street-ward, but not too listlessly to feel the withering glance of reproach which the _Shammas_ shot after him as he departed. The street was thronged and bustling with the full tide of activity which had now begun, but Moses paid no attention to its appearance. He did not even notice the friendly greetings of several acquaintances whom he passed on his homeward way. His mind had only room just then for one thought, that of mortification at his inexplicable tardiness and the humiliation which that morning had brought him in the opinion of his fellow-congregants. He reached the huge tenement he called his home and began mechanically to climb the narrow and interminable staircases that led up to his room. The building was comparatively quiet. Most of the male inmates and of the children of school age had already departed, the former to take up their daily tasks, the latter for the immense public school a few blocks away. No one met him on the stairs to draw his mind from its gloomy abstraction. But as he reached the fifth floor he perceived something which at once, arrested his attention and turned his thoughts to matters outside of himself. It was a strong and pungent smell, the smell of smoke. He stopped, all his senses at once keenly alert. Like all tenement-dwellers he realized well the meaning of smoke. It meant fire, and fire all too often meant death in those lofty and crowded edifices, from whose upper portions escape was always difficult and sometimes impossible. Even as he stood, the noise of uneasy motion in the apartments at the side of the hall where he was and a sudden