It is a bad--a very bad omen." "My lost husband Rui, who rests in Osiris, foresaw it all," said the widow.

"If only I dared to speak I could tell a good deal that many might find unpleasant." The inspector of sacrifices smiled, for he knew that the late superior of the temple of Hatasu had been an adherent of the old royal family, and he replied: "The Sun of Rameses may be for a time covered with clouds, but neither those who fear it nor those who desire it will live to see its setting." The priest coldly saluted the lady, and went into the house of a weaver in which he had business, and the widow got into her litter which was waiting at the gate.
The old paraschites Pinem had joined with his fellows in the lamentation for the sacred beasts, and was now sitting on the hard pavement of the dissecting room to eat his morsel of food--for it was noon.
The stone room in which he was eating his meal was badly lighted; the daylight came through a small opening in the roof, over which the sun stood perpendicularly, and a shaft of bright rays, in which danced the whirling motes, shot down through the twilight on to the stone pavement.
Mummy-cases leaned against all the walls, and on smooth polished slabs lay bodies covered with coarse cloths.

A rat scudded now and then across the floor, and from the wide cracks between the stones sluggish scorpions crawled out.
The old paraschites was long since blunted to the horror which pervaded this locality.

He had spread a coarse napkin, and carefully laid on it the provisions which his wife had put into his satchel; first half a cake of bread, then a little salt, and finally a radish.
But the bag was not yet empty.
He put his hand in and found a piece of meat wrapped up in two cabbage-leaves.

Old Hekt had brought a leg of a gazelle from Thebes for Uarda, and he now saw that the women had put a piece of it into his little sack for his refreshment.