"It may last four," replied Pentuer.
"But ye sages, favorites of the gods, have ye no means of saving people from such a tempest?"
The priest thought awhile, and answered,
"In the world there is only one sage who can struggle with evil spirits. But he is not here."
Typhon had been blowing for half an hour with inconceivable fury. It had become almost like night. At moments the wind weakened, the black clouds pushed apart; in the sky was a bloody sun, on the earth an ominous light of ruddy color. The hot stifling wind grew more violent, the clouds of sand thicker. The ghastly light was extinguished, and in the air were heard sounds and noises to which human ears are not accustomed.
It was near sunset, but the violence of the tempest increased, and the unendurable heat rose' continually. From time to time a gigantic bloody spot appeared above the horizon, as if a world fire were coming.
All at once the prince saw that Pentuer was not before him. He strained his ear and heard a voice, crying,
"Beroes! Beroes! If Thou cannot help us, who can? Beroes! in the name of the One, the Almighty, who knows neither end nor beginning, I call on thee."
On the northern extremity of the desert, thunder was heard. The prince was frightened, since thunder for an Egyptian was almost as rare a phenomenon as a comet.
"Beroes! Beroes!" repeated the priest in a deep voice.