no hope of the fifteen ells of water which the earth needed for the
harvest of the year.

He stepped out on the terrace, which looked towards the east, and
entered an open colonnade. But before he went farther, he took the
precaution of dropping small pieces of papyrus to show him the way
back. He went through narrow courtyards, but took care not to climb
steps; his experience of yesterday had warned him. At last he found
himself in a forest of pillars whose tops were crowned with
lotus-buds, and, as he listened, he heard what seemed a faint song of
children's voices from the roof. He laid his ear to a pillar, and
heard it more clearly, like the ringing music of zither and harp. He
knew that this was caused by the sun, which had already warmed the
stones of the roof, and was about to ascend the sky.

He went forward, and suddenly saw a terrace upon which stood a
sacrificial altar. From the terrace, a flight of stairs flanked with
sphinxes descended to the river. Thence there sloped a valley,
bounded on the east by the mountains of the Red Sea. At the altar
there stood a priest in a white linen robe with a purple border. He
had raised his arms towards heaven, and stood motionless. His hands
were quite white, since the blood had sunk into his arms, and the
face of the old man seemed astrain with the strength he had invoked
from above. Sometimes his body shuddered as though streams of fire
ran through it. He was silent, and gazed towards the East. Then the
shining edge of the sun's disk rose above the mountain-ridge, and
the white hands of the priest became transparently crimson like his
face. And he opened his mouth and said: "Sun-god: Lord of the
splendour of rays, be Thou extolled in the morning when Thou
risest, and in the evening when Thou descendest. I cry to Thee, Lord