“Do, please, let me see this American.”
“Be it as thou wish.”
Ibrahim went out, and shortly returned with the astonished American.
After a short pause, Mohammed asked who was this Girzilla.
“I know not what her name may be,” commenced Max, “but when I asked her by what she should be known, she said, ‘To thee I will be Girzilla.’”
“It is the same. Oh, tell me, did she speak of her mother—of her father?”
“She told me her father had Mameluke blood——”
A scream from Mohammed’s wife stopped the conclusion of the sentence.
“It must be our own child,” she said.
“Know ye not that she was called Kalula?” asked Mohammed.