Under the arch of the entrance Connor saw a gray stallion, naked of halter or rope, with his head raised. From the shadow he came shining into the sunlight; the wind raised his mane and tail in ripples¹ of silver. Ben Connor rose slowly from his chair. Horses were religion to him; he felt now that he had stepped into the inner shrine².  
When he was able to speak he turned slowly toward David. "Sir," he said hoarsely³, "that is the greatest horse ever bred."
 
It was far more than a word of praise; it was a confession⁴ of faith which surrounded the moment and the stallion with solemnity, and David flushed like a proud boy.
 
"There he stands," he said. "Now make him come to your hand."
 
It recalled Connor to his senses, that challenge, and feeling that his mind had been snatched away from him for a moment, almost that he had been betrayed, he looked at David with a pale face.
 
"He is too far away," he said. "Bring him closer."
 
There was one of those pauses which often come before crises, and Connor knew that by the outcome of this test he would be judged either a man or a cheap boaster.
 
"I shall do this thing," said the master of the Garden of Eden. "If you bring Glani to your hand I shall give him to you to ride while you stay in the valley. Listen! No other man had so much as laid a hand on the withers⁵ of Glani, but if you can make him come to you of his own free will—"
 
"No," said Connor calmly. "I shall make him come because my will is stronger than his."
 
"Impossible!" burst out David.
 
He controlled himself and looked at Connor with an almost wistful defiance⁶.
 
"I hold to this," he said. "If you can bring Glani to your hand, he is yours while you stay in the Garden—for my part, I shall find another mount."
 
Connor slipped his right hand into his pocket and crushed the little root against the palm.
 
"Come hither, Glani," commanded the master. The stallion came up behind David's chair, looking fearlessly at the stranger.
 
"Now," said David with scorn. "This is your time."
 
"I accept it," replied Connor.
 
He drew his hand from his pocket, and leaning over the table, he looked straight into the eye of the stallion. But in reality, it was only to bring that right hand closer; the wind was stirring behind him, and he knew that it wafted⁷ the scent⁸ of the mysterious root straight to Glani.
 
"That is impossible," said David, following the glance of Connor with a frown. "A horse has no reasoning brain. Silence cannot make him come to you."
 
"However," said Connor carelessly, "I shall not speak."
 
The master set his teeth over unuttered words, and glancing up to reassure⁹ himself, his face altered swiftly, and he whispered:
 
"Now, you four dead masters, bear witness to this marvel¹⁰! Glani feels the influence!"
 
For the head of Glani had raised as he scented¹¹ the wind. Then he circled the table and came straight toward Connor. Within a pace, the scent of strange humanity must have drowned the perfume of the root; he sprang away, catlike and snorted his suspicion.
 
David heaved a great sigh of relief.
 
"You fail!" he cried, and snatching up a bottle of wine, he poured out a cup. "Brave Glani! I drink this in your honor!"
 
Every muscle in David's strong body was quivering, as though he were throwing all the effort of his will on the side of the stallion.
 
"You think I have failed?" asked Connor softly.
 
"Admit it," said David.
 
His flush was gone and he was paler than Connor now; he seemed to desire with all his might that the test should end; there was a fiber¹² of entreaty¹³ in his voice.
 
"Admit it, Benjamin, as I admit your strange power."
 
"I have hardly begun. Give me quiet."
 
David flung himself into his chair, his attention jerking from Glani to Connor and back. It was at this critical moment that a faint breeze puffed¹⁴............