A very sound sleeper, he remained wrapped in the unconsciousness of slumber until the sun was seeking his bed in the west, when he woke suddenly with a start, thinking that Antoine was calling him to get up in the morning. First rubbing his eyes to get the sleep out of them, the jester began to look around for his donkey, for, greatly to his surprise and dismay, Pittacus no longer stood where his master had tied him, both steed and hawk having vanished as completely as if the earth had swallowed them up. And still worse was to come, for a silk purse worn at his belt, which contained all of his worldly wealth, had disappeared with his other property.
"Robbed!" groaned Le Glorieux, sinking to the ground and clasping his hands convulsively about his knees. "On a strange soil, afoot, and without a coin to bless myself with. Sometimes I begin to think that I am growing wise, and then it is borne in upon me that I am nothing but a fool after all, for what man in his senses would sleep beside the road in broad daylight, with all his possessions unguarded?"
He made up his mind that he had been the victim of a highwayman, which was the natural conclusion at which to arrive, though, strange to say, his sword had not been taken, and his pistol, which he had placed on the ground beside him, was still where he had left it.
"A coward," thought the fool, "to rob a man in his sleep, and not a bray from Pittacus, not a scream from Pandora, to give me warning! How kind I have been to those brutes, and they go with a stranger as cheerfully as if they were not leaving their best friend."
He remained for some time bewailing his ill-luck, and then, reminded by the lateness of the hour that it was necessary to resume his journey, he set out disconsolately on foot.
After walking a short distance Le Glorieux beheld something, the sight of which amazed him quite as much as the discovery of the robbery had done, and made him wonder if he were still dreaming. Secured to a tree and contentedly munching a bunch of thistles which happily were within the range allowed by the length of his halter, was Pittacus! "But Pandora?" cried the jester, for the bird was not tied to the saddle and he feared that she had flown away.
A faint tinkle of bells called his attention to the tree, and there, tied to a limb, was Pandora, who seemed to be guarding her master's purse, which was fastened to a twig beneath her.
Le Glorieux stared with astonishment at finding his belongings in this strange manner. That any one should have taken, and repenting have returned them, he could not believe, and there was but one explanation of the occurrence that seemed at all reasonable.
It was an age in which witches, fairies, and all sorts of supernatural beings were believed to exist, and the fool had no doubt that a witch had played this trick upon him. She would not need a donkey, for everybody knew that when a witch wished to change her usual mode of traveling, she could in the twinkling of an eye turn a bundle of faggots into a horse, which would do very well until she wished to cross water, when it would resume its original form. At any rate, Pittacus was no sort of a mount for a witch, not being sufficiently swift for those lively ladies. A witch could change almost anything into a hawk, so she would not need Pandora, and as to his purse, what use would money be to a creature who could have anything she wanted without the trouble of paying for it? Yes, a witch had done this just from pure mischief and a desire to meddle with something which did not in the least concern her.
Le Glorieux put his purse inside his doublet, determined that the next person who took it from him, whether witch or highwayman, must fight to get it. Then taking the bird on his wrist he said, "Pandora, you might, yes, you might have given just one little shriek to let me know what was going on. But why do I reproach you, when no doubt she cast a spell over you to keep you from making a sound?"