Their faces were uncovered, for they feared not any intrusion. When they saw Max they hastily threw the veils over their faces, but it was too late. Max had caught sight of one, and was spellbound. His heart was in his mouth; he could not speak. Ibrahim touched his shoulder. “What is it, Madcap?” “She is there.” “Who?” “I saw her. How did she get there?” “Whom did you see?” “Girzilla.” “You are dreaming.” “I am not.” “How could Girzilla be in the harem of Mohammed?” “I know not.” “Come away, before----” “Look! she uncovers.” Ibrahim looked across at the women, and, regardless of all consequences, threw himself at the feet of her who had so indiscreetly uncovered her face. “Girzilla, my heart’s love! how came you here?” he exclaimed, passionately; but his lover’s rhapsody was interrupted by Mohammed, who indignantly marched up to him. “Seize him! He has desecrated the law of hospitality.” “Is not that Girzilla?” asked Ibrahim. “And what if it is? She has been my wife these eighteen years,” answered Mohammed, proudly. “Girzilla! oh, my Girzilla!” moaned Ibrahim. A soft, sweet voice was borne across the sands. “Who speaketh of Girzilla--my lost child--my beauteous Girzilla?” CHAPTER XX. “WHERE IS GIRZILLA?” “I spoke of Girzilla,” exclaimed Ibrahim, proudly. “And who is Girzilla?” asked Mohammed, his nostril quivering like that of a horse who scents the battle. “The best, the dearest, the most lovely girl on earth, and there she stands.” “You are mad. That is my wife, and has been for eighteen years. Thrice has she been with me to the prophet’s shrine at Mecca, but never hath she set foot on the deserts of Egypt until now.” “I’ll not believe it, unless she herself declares it,” said Ibrahim, scornfully. “Answer, fair wife; have I spoken that which is true?” “Indeed, my lord and master, it is true, and yet this pasha spoke of Girzilla.” It was Mohammed’s turn to be surprised, when, a moment later, the wife asked that none but Ibrahim and Mohammed should hear what she had to say. Loving his wife with a passion foreign to Oriental nature, the Arab chief granted her request, and with Ibrahim entered his tent, followed by the wife unattended. “My lord and master, great servant of the prophet! Great is Allah!” she commenced. “Wilt thou allow me to unveil, so that this pasha see that I am not the Girzilla he seeketh?” “My wife, I can deny thee nothing.” When the veil was removed, Ibrahim stepped back, completely bewildered at the entrancing beauty of the lady. He felt his heart beat with tumultuous frenzy, his throat was husky, and he could not speak. It was not until the veil had been replaced that he found himself able to articulate. “It is Girzilla, and yet--no, my Girzilla differs----” He was confused. “Tell me, where is thy Girzilla? What years hath she counted? Is she thy wife?” “No, would to Allah she were!” “Who is she, then?”