The Imaum made some pertinent remarks, which were worthy of the great prophet himself. To Ibrahim, after praising his courage, he said: “You have taken to yourself a wife. The Koran permits you to take three others; but take my advice--cleave to the one. It is better, and a new dispensation will so order. Treat Girzilla, not as others of our race have been treated, but let her be your equal; for it is now written that if you be faithful to her on earth the gates of Paradise will open for you both, and she shall be your bride through all eternity.” After spending the customary seven days in prayer and religious observances, Ibrahim obtained permission to take his dusky bride on a trip up the Nile in company with Max. The cataracts were passed, and Cairo reached. Girzilla pleaded so earnestly to continue the journey that her loving husband accompanied her to Suez, where they bade farewell to Madcap Max as the Peninsular and Oriental steamer steamed out of the port. Max had not noticed that it was the very vessel he had made the journey on three years before. He made himself known to the captain, and the tedium of the journey was broken by the story of adventure told by the madcap. When Max reached New York he found himself the head of the firm, and the cares of business life caused him to relinquish the thought of “coining dollars” on the lecture platform; but he made a solemn promise to the author that some day he would tell him the story of his life. * * * * * Two years passed, and the author asked the well-known and highly respected merchant to tell the story. “To-morrow come to us, be our guest for a week, and you shall know all.” “But----” “My wife will welcome you as an old friend.” Max had married a fairer woman than Girzilla, but many a time he declared that no more true one ever lived than the Arab maiden. When the author reached the Gordon uptown mansion on the following day he was surprised to find so many evidences of the Orient everywhere; but when, an hour later, Max took the author by the hand and led him into a large parlor, he was still more surprised, for there stood, waiting to receive him, Ibrahim and Girzilla. Sherif el Habib was dead. His nephew had sold the shawl manufactory, and found himself extremely wealthy. He at once determined to make the “grand tour” of the world, and so infatuated was he with the remembrance of Max, that nothing would satisfy him but to commence the journey proper from New York. That was how this story came to be written. Max narrated it, but Ibrahim and Girzilla insisted on a more lavish praise of the madcap than he would acknowledge he deserved. Never was there a happier couple than the Persian and his lovely bride, who does not look so dark and dusky in the modern American clothing as she did on the deserts of Africa.