“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.