“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.