“No; it was when Hatatcha died.”
“Then the tomb is not in the oasis. I am sure it is quite near Fedah. But listen, my Sĕra; if I agree to take Nephthys and provide for her, you must help me when Kāra comes.”
“I have promised to hide you in the old wall,” she replied. “Can I do more than that?”
“Yes. You must go at once to the hill and watch for the royal one’s coming. Your eyes are sharp, even though you are old. He will come from the Nile—either across the river or from the north, on a boat that smokes and has no sails. As soon as you discover him you will hurry here to me, and that will give us time to prepare for Kāra. Will you do this for me?”
“May I have the box of cigarettes to take with me?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will do your bidding.”
She went away to the hill at once, leaving Tadros with Nephthys; but the girl had already forgotten his presence and was staring straight before her with lusterless eyes.
The dragoman sighed.
“It is very unfortunate,” he murmured, examining her critically, “but it is doubtless true, nevertheless—she is getting thin.”