“You are talking riddles,” growled the dragoman, uneasily. “Tell me what you mean in plain words.”
“Do you remember the day that Nephthys broke her water-jar?”
“Yes.”
“You struck me, your prince, and knocked me down.”
“Well, you choked me afterward. That should even the score.”
“Not quite. I choked you for spying upon me. That was another offense. The blow has not yet been accounted for.”
Tadros frowned.
“I do not bear grudges myself,” he muttered.
“There are a few other matters scored against your account,” continued Kāra. “Still, so long as you serve me faithfully, and I have need of you, I shall not exact a reckoning; but they stand on record, my Tadros, and some day the account must be balanced. Do not forget that. For these reasons, and remembering that you have declared yourself no fool, I am certain that you will admit you were wrong about the location of my treasure. When you think it over, you will conclude that it lies in Luxor, or Abydos, or perhaps is a myth altogether, and never has existed. And, when you chatter to others, no mention of a hidden tomb or temple will be permitted to pass your lips. I am quite sure you will be circumspect, and I trust you to keep to yourself the secret of my affairs. If I thought you would betray me, I would kill you now, instead of waiting. But you will not do that; you are too fond of living and of the money you are saving to hazard losing both.”
Tadros returned to his duties in a very thoughtful mood. In playing upon his fears, Kāra had overreached himself, and made the dragoman so much afraid that he believed his life hung by a thread. Therefore, he sought most earnestly for a way of escape from the thrall of his terrible countryman.