(The same two years later. Julia looks out over the desert. She is alone. A storm is blowing louder and louder.)

Julia: Oh another sand storm. A cloud of dust rising to the heavens. (She sighs.) Well Sir Steven what do you say to that? To the inexperienced eye, one might think of travelers - a magnificent parade of elephants carrying a famous king. But we know better don't we Sir Steven? This is a desolate isle - unvisited for many years. It is most cruel of the dust storm to try to trick us like that. It is even said that the wind can mimic the sound of a loved-one's voice. The wind lashes the rocks with harsh blows and they cry out for mercy.

Steven (mostly muffled and weak, almost drowned out by the wind): Princess! Princess!

Julia: There you see! You can almost hear him calling