Girzilla raised herself to her full height; her eyes flashed with scorn, her little hands were clinched tightly, causing the muscles upon her arms to distend until the silver armlets must have cut into the flesh.
Her face was crimson, her body trembled with excitement.
“Explore! Yes, you Franks come to my land and carry away its images, destroy its old ruins, ransack the temples, overthrow the gods, and, not satisfied with that, dare even to desecrate the tombs!”
“You brought me here,” pleaded Max.
“I brought thee to save thy life. I brought thee, even though I knew I might die in thy place.”
“What mean you? Are you in danger?”
Girzilla laughed bitterly.
“Danger!—how silly you are!” And then, changing her manner, she added: “Have you any sense? Do you Franks ever think? I know these men who brought thee here. I know that they would take all thy gold and slit your nose—that they would slowly kill thee. Like the bird of prey looking for its victim were they. I saved thee—wilt not the vulture turn upon me? Thou knowest I shall die if I am caught.”
There was an eloquent, passionate fervor in her manner which seemed to raise her from the apathetic lazy Egyptian race and elevate her to the level of the American.
Max was about to speak, but like a queen she motioned him to be silent.