Among the soldiers of Ramses and their prisoners mad delight sprang up suddenly. Without caring for the thunder and lightning the men, who a moment before had been scorched with heat, and tormented by thirst, ran under the rain like small children. In the dark they washed themselves and their horses, they caught water in their caps and leather bags, and above all they drank and drank eagerly.
"Is not this a miracle?" cried Ramses. "Were it not for this blessed rain we should all perish here in the burning grasp of Typhon."
"It happens," said the old Libyan, "that the southern sandy wind rouses a wind from the sea and brings heavy rain to us."
Ramses was touched disagreeably by these words, for he had attributed the downpour to Pentuer's prayers. He turned to the Libyan, and asked,
"And does it happen that sparks flash from people's bodies?"
"It is always so when the wind blows from the desert," answered the Libyan. "Just now we saw sparks jumping not only from men, but from horses."
In his voice there was such conviction that the prince approaching an officer of his cavalry whispered,
"But look at the Libyans."
When he had said this some one made a noise in the darkness, and after a while tramping was heard. When a flash lighted up the desert they saw a man escaping on horseback.
"Bind these wretches!" cried the prince, "and kill any one who resists you. Woe to thee, Tehenna, if that scoundrel brings thy brethren against us. Ye will perish in dreadful tortures, Thou and thy men here."