Whoever the girl with the strange name might be, she evidently knew her way, for never once did her foot slip, although Max found his ankles turning every minute, and had he not a firm hold on Girzilla’s dress, which, though of gauzy linen, seemed as strong as a hempen cord, he would have fallen frequently. “Sit down!” The words were uttered very abruptly, and were in the nature of a command. Max did as ordered, and sat in silence--a silence so great that he could hear the beating of his heart, and fancied that he could also distinguish the pulsations of his guide’s organ of life at the same time. The silence was almost unbearable, and Max grew fidgety and restless. “I have got into some queer streets before this, but I confess this is the strangest,” he mused. “To save thee, thou must go through the place of the dead.” The voice was that of Girzilla, but it sounded so sepulchral that Madcap Max felt a cold shiver pass over him. “Hast thou courage?” she asked. “I--h-have,” he stammered, his teeth chattering with nervous fear of the unknown. “Come!” Once more the journey was resumed, and Girzilla walked slower than before. Suddenly Max got such a rap on the head that it made him groan with pain. “Stoop. Better still, crawl,” said the girl, almost contemptuously. Max felt humiliated, but he was in a quandary. He could not go back, for he did not know the way, and he dare not go forward alone, for he was afraid. Girzilla seemed to read his thoughts, for she laughed softly and murmured: “Poor boy! He will have to trust his Girzilla; she will save him.” Stooping until his head was only a few inches higher than his knees, he followed as well as he could. Very soon the way became easier to travel, and a glimmer of light showed that the sun had risen again, and found some crevice through which it sent its heavenly rays. Gradually the light increased, and the road became better. The sand was so hot, however, that Max felt the shoes on his feet drying up, and even baking. He resolved to remove them, and the hot sand blistered his tender feet. High up above him was an opening, through which the light and heat came. “If one of thy enemies shouldst see thee, a little stone from there”--and Girzilla pointed upward--“would make thee fit for a mummy.” Again the spinal marrow in Max’s back seemed turned to ice, and he was almost afraid to glance upward. “Where are we?” “Under the temple of great Isis.” “Under?” “Yes, Isis had the temple high above where thou dost stand.” “Lead on; I would know more of these mysterious passages, but I am hungry and cold.” “Just now thou wert hot.” “Yes, I am chilled and yet feverish.” “Come, my gentle boy, and Girzilla will take thee where thou canst rest.” A few yards and a sudden turn, and the narrow passageway gave place to a large plateau, on which huge bowlders were scattered promiscuously.