“Most certainly, my prince,” said he, with alacrity. “I will take the first train to Fedah, and the beauty shall be in your harem within three days.”
Kāra caught the tone and the look.
“On second thought, Tadros,” he said, gravely, “I will send Ebbek in your place. I may need your services here in Cairo.”
“Ebbek! that doddering old Arab! He will never do at all,” cried the dragoman, blusteringly. “I alone know Fedah, and I alone know how to deal with Sĕra, and how to bring her fat daughter to you in safety. It is I who will go!”
“Send Ebbek to me.”
“Not so; I will go myself to Fedah.”
“Am I the master, Tadros?”
“You think so, because you are rich. If I knew of the tombs you are plundering, it is I who would be the master!”
“You are in great danger, my poor dragoman.”
Tadros, who had been glaring defiantly upon the other, dropped his eyes before the cold look of Kāra.