“Take care, poor lost one; Comorre waits to kill thee.”
“Me!” cried the countess; “and how have I offended, that he seeks my death?”
“You have told him you will shortly be a mother; and he knows, thanks to the evil one, that his first child will be his destroyer. Therefore it was that he took our lives also.”
“My God! and have I fallen into hands so cruel?” cried Tryphyna, weeping. “If it is so, what hope remains for me? what can I do?”
“Go back to your father in the land of White-Wheat,” said the phantoms.
“How can I fly?” returned the countess; “the giant dog of Comorre guards the gate.”
“Give to him this poison, which killed me,” said the first.
“How can I get down the high wall?” asked the young wife.
“Let yourself down by this cord, which strangled me,” replied the second.
“But who will direct me through the darkness?” asked the princess.