When Seni addressed him, he told him to go; but the old man did not give up asking him, he followed him persistently to the grave of his father, and a great many people with him.

Then the pioneer pushed him angrily back, and when at last the beggar clutched his garment, he raised his whip, and struck him two or three times, crying out: 'There-that is your portion!' The good old man bore it quite patiently, while he untied the bag, and said with tears in his eyes: 'My portion--yes--but not the portion of the poor!' "I was standing near, and I saw how Paaker hastily withdrew into the tomb, and how his mother Setchem threw her full purse to Seni.

Others followed her example, and the old man never had a richer harvest.

The poor may thank the Mohar! A crowd of people collected in front of the tomb, and he would have fared badly if it had not been for the police guard who drove them away." During this narrative, which was heard with much approval--for no one is more secure of his result than he who can tell of the downfall of a man who is disliked for his arrogance--the Regent and the high-priest had been eagerly whispering to each other.
"There can be no doubt," said Ameni, "that Bent-Anat did actually come to the festival." "And had also dealings with the priest whom you so warmly defend," whispered the other.
"Pentaur shall be questioned this very night," returned the high-priest.
"The dishes will soon be taken away, and the drinking will begin.

Let us go and hear what the poet says." "But there are now no witnesses," replied Ani.
"We do not need them," said Ameni.