"Who are you, and what do you want?" asked the old man, opening his door a few inches.
"I am called Pachomius, and I want to be a monk," was the answer.
"You cannot be a monk here," said Palemon. "It is a hard thing to be a true monk, and there few who persevere."
"Perhaps so," replied Pachomius; "but all people are not alike."
"I have already told you," repeated the old man, "that you cannot be a monk here. Go elsewhere and try; if you persevere you can come back."
"I would rather stay with you," said Pachomius.
"You do not know what you are asking," answered Palemon. "I live on bread and salt; I pray and do penance the greater part of the night—sometimes the whole night through."
Pachomius shivered, for he was a sound sleeper, but he replied sturdily enough:
"I hope in Jesus Christ that, helped by your prayers, I shall persevere."
Palemon could resist him no longer. He took the young man to live with him and found him a humble and faithful disciple. After some years, the two hermits went together to the desert of the Thebaid and began the work to which God had called Pachomius, for Palemon died soon after.