“What do you wish?” said Aleph to the trainer in equestrianism.
“Handle this Arabian in all ways—mount, trot around the course, canter and gallop, maintain your seat under shouts and the hissing of this whip.”
“Has this horse any peculiarities?” asked Cornelius.
“This the stranger is to find out for himself,” said the trainer gruffly.
“The animal has the eye of a demon,” continued Cornelius; “and it is agreed between the Museum and us that you, Beco, are not to ask my friend to do what you are not willing to undertake yourself. So I now ask you to mount—in short, do yourself what you ask from him.”
“I am here to examine, not to be examined,” and the man shrugged his shoulders and tried, unsuccessfully, to look amused.
“Do you refuse?” demanded Cornelius.
“I refuse to be tested myself; I am not a candidate for matriculation,” was the surly reply.
Cornelius looked anxiously around, and seeing the trainer of the Serapeum standing not far away, he beckoned to him; and on his approach conferred with him in a low voice for a moment.