“Give it back to me!” the Emperor ordered.
He eyed it as she had, sniffed at it like a dog at a mouse-hole, and glared over it at Calvaster.
“You advertise yourself to all the world,” he snarled, “as an unworthy Pontiff and a contemptible caitiff. You attempt to entrap me into the meanest unfairness! You pose as a public-spirited citizen solicitous about the sanctity of the worship of Vesta and I find you a pettifogging wretch actuated by spite and malice. You desire not a fair test, but the ruin of a woman you are low-minded enough to hate. Eugh!” With one of his excesses of unconventional energy he flung the sieve far out over the river. It sailed whirling through the air, splashed in the water and sank out of sight.
“For the price of one dried bean, I’d order you thrown after it,” said Commodus to Calvaster.
He beckoned one of his aides.
“Signal that boat!” he commanded.
A broad blunt-ended cargo-boat, rather guided than propelled by its four heavy oars, came drifting down with the current. Its gunwale was hung with horsehair sieves. Up from the thwarts stood many poles, each with cross-pieces, every cross-piece hung with sieves. Its oarsmen edged it nearer and nearer to the Quay and slowed its motion until it was almost stationary opposite the stair, scarcely an arm’s-length from the lowest step.
When it was close the Emperor spoke to Numisia:
“Choose any sieve you see.”
Numisia indicated the sieve on the forward arm of the second cross-piece of the fourth pole from the bow.