Girzilla could help them in this, if she really possessed Mameluke blood, for she would know the signs and signals which bound together that most powerful body of men. The Mamelukes were a brotherhood, having secret signs, and possessed of all the fraternal strength of the Free Masons. That was the reason Sherif asked the question: “What says Girzilla?” The girl smiled, sadly. “I am away from my people; they mourn me as dead. I am thy slave, do with me as thou wilt--I am thine.” “No, Girzilla, not mine,” said Sherif; “if thou dost belong to anyone, ’tis to Max, the audacious young madcap.” A tinge of carmine suffused itself over the girl’s face, and she bent down her head. “He careth not. I am not of his race; the sun doth not care for the dark--I am dark----” “But comely,” quickly added Max, quoting from Solomon. “I do care for thee, Girzilla. I----” “Nay, I understand thee. I will lead thee or go with thee--but it is great Sherif el Habib who is the master. As he pleases so I wilt do.” Had this child of the desert, around whose life there was so much of mystery, learned the lessons of coquetry and flattery? She pleased the old merchant, and so infatuated did he become, that he took Max on one side, and in a mysterious manner whispered: “I have solved it.” “What?” “Girzilla.” “Have you discovered who she is?” “No, but who she is going to be.” Max started. A crimson tide passed through the veins of his face. In a whisper he asked: “Who is she to be?” “Ibrahim shall marry her.” The union would be a good one. The marriage of a Persian with an Arabian could not be considered a _mesalliance_, at least as regards race; but to Max there was a certain pride of rank which would be outraged. Ibrahim was worth, perhaps, a million dollars, Girzilla nothing; the Persian took rank as a pasha in his own land, while who knew anything about Girzilla? The silver bands she wore round her arms and ankles betokened rank, but might not her father be a bandit, and bedecked his child with them? Girzilla was well educated, but even that was an objection to Max’s mind, for he could not help thinking that, perhaps, she was educated to serve as a decoy for the robber band. Sherif el Habib was surprised at the young American’s silence. “If thou wouldst marry her yourself----” “I, an American, marry an Arab?” “My dear fellow,” said Sherif el Habib, earnestly, “you of all men oughtn’t to think her race an objection.” “And why?” “Simply because your minister to Teheran told me that the great strength of your nation laid in the fact that you declared and recognized ‘that all are born free and equal.’” Max knew not what to say. He had been confronted with that very difficulty before. His father had told him that instead of being a reality, the present generation treated the time-honored declaration as a theory, very beautiful, but impractical. Alas! there is too much truth in that statement of Merchant Gordon. Max knew not what to answer.