rtist's six cats glided about among the easels, or stretched their
limbs on costly velvet and Arabian carpets.

In one corner stood a small bed with silk curtains--the nursery of the
master's pets. A magnificent white cat was suckling her kittens in it.

Two blue and yellow cockatoos and several parrots swung screaming in
brass hoops before the open window, and Coello's coal-black negro crept
about, cleaning the floor of the spacious apartment, though it was
already noon. While engaged in this occupation, he constantly shook his
woolly head, displaying his teeth, for his master was singing loudly at
his work, and the gaily-clad African loved music.

What a transformation bad taken place in the Netherlander's quiet,
orderly, scrupulously neat studio! But, even amid this confusion,
admirable works were created; nay, the Spaniard possessed a much more
vivid imagination, and painted pictures, containing a larger number of
figures and far more spirited than Moor's, though they certainly were not
pervaded by the depth and earnestness, the marvellous fidelity to nature,
that characterized those of Ulrich's beloved master.

Coello called the youth to the easel, and pointing to the sketches in
color, containing numerous figures, on which he was painting, said:

"Look here, my son. This is to be a battle of the Centaurs, these are
Parthian horsemen;--Saint George and the Dragon, and the Crusaders are
not yet finished. The king wants the Apocalyptic riders too. Deuce take
it! But it must be done. I shall commence them to-morrow. They are
intended for the walls and ceiling of the new winter riding-school. One
person gets along slowly with all this stuff, and I--I. . . . The orders
oppress me. If a man could only double, quadruple himself! Diana of
Ephesus had many breasts, and Cerberus three heads, but only two hands
have grown on my wrists. I need help, and you are just the person to give
it. You have had nothing to do with horses yet, Isabella tells me; but
you are half a Centaur yourself. Set to work on the steeds now, and when
you have progressed far enough, you shall transfer these sketches to the
ceiling and walls of the riding-school. I will help you perfect the
thing, and give it the finishing touch."

This invitation aroused more perplexity than pleasure in Ulrich's mind,
for it was not in accordance with Moor's opinions. Fear of his fellow-men
no longer restrained him, so he frankly said that he would rather sketch
i