between them--possibly against the sacred person of our emperor--a
frightful sacrilege!--the suggestion of it makes me shudder! There is,
of course, no doubt about Sextus; the emperor's own proscription brands
him as a miscreant unfit to live, and he was lucky to have died by
accident instead of being torn apart by tongs. It seems to me
unquestionable that Norbanus shared his guilt and took care to escape
before he could be seized and brought to justice. What is in doubt,
most noble Pertinax, is how you can excuse yourself to our sacred
emperor for having let Sextus escape from your clutches, after you had
seen that letter! How can you excuse yourself for not pouncing the
letter, to be used as evidence against rascally freedmen who forewarned
the miscreant Sextus about the emperor's intentions?--and for not
realizing that Norbanus was undoubtedly in league with him? How can you
explain your having let Norbanus get away is something I confess I am
unable to imagine."

"Conjure your imagination!" Pertinax retorted. "I am to inquire into
the suitability of Antioch or Daphne as the site of the Olympic games
that the emperor proposed to preside over in person. You can imagine, I
suppose, how profitable that would be for Antioch--and you. Am I to
tell the emperor that robbers in the mountains and the laxity of local
government make the selection of Antioch unwise?"

They stared at each other silently across the table, Pertinax erect and
definite, the governor of Antioch indefinite and stroking his chin with
fat, white fingers.

"It would be simplest," said the governor of Antioch at last, "to have
Norbanus executed."