Tadros hesitated and glanced at Nephthys. The girl was staring with frightened eyes into her master’s face. Following her gaze, the dragoman gave a shudder. Kāra’s countenance was as cold and inexpressive as that of a statue. Tadros had learned to fear that expression. Softly he tiptoed from the room, and the draperies fell behind him.
Clinging to the curtains of the arch leading to the next room, appeared old Tilga, who was trembling violently. Had the master been an Arab, her life was already forfeited. She was not sure what an Egyptian would do under the circumstances.
Kāra beckoned her to approach. Then, pointing a finger at Nephthys, he said:
“Remove those jewels and ornaments.”
As the old woman eagerly attempted to obey, Nephthys stood up and asked in a low, horrified voice:
“What are you going to do?”
Kāra did not reply. He watched Tilga’s nervous fingers rapidly removing the diadem, earrings, brooches and bracelets, which she cast in a heap upon a table. Nephthys submitted quietly until the hag seized her string of pearls; then she shrank away and clutched at her throat to save her treasure, loving the pearls better than all else.
Kāra grasped her wrists firmly and drew her hands down to her side, while Tilga unwound the triple row of priceless pearls from the girl’s neck and added it to the heap upon the table. He continued to hold her fast until the housekeeper had stripped from her fingers the rings of diamond, ruby and emerald. Then he let her go, and Nephthys moaned and covered her face with her hands.
“Take off her robes,” commanded Kāra, sternly.
Tilga rushed to do his bidding, and, when Nephthys resisted, the hag struck her across the face with her open hand. She literally tore away the exquisite gown, as well as the silken hose and satin slippers, until the girl stood shorn of all her finery except the fleecy underclothing.