The valued gift now changed hands, and the Reverend gentleman was allowed to proceed to his home in safety.
Early the next morning he applied to a magistrate for assistance, and proceeded to Halston to inform Mytton of the disgraceful state of the country, when a man could be robbed within a few yards of his lodge.
"I'll send for the constable," said Mytton, "a reward shall be offered, and no exertion shall be wanting on my part to trace the scoundrel and get your property restored."
The clergyman was brimming over with gratitude, when the Squire continued.
"Come and dine here to-morrow, and I'll send an escort home with you. My keeper and a watcher will be more than a match for any two rascals that infest the road."
The invitation was accepted, and in the meantime every exertion was made by the magistrate to discover the offenders. During dinner, the conversation naturally turned upon the bare-faced robbery.
"I did not mind the fellows taking my money," said the victim. "Albeit I could not well afford to lose it, but what I felt deeply was the loss of my watch. I would give any sum in my power to recover it."
At that moment the second course was put on the table, for at the time I write of dîners à la Russe were unknown, and a large dish with a cover over it was placed before the host.
"I wish," said Mytton, addressing his clerical friend, "you would kindly carve the pheasants. I sprained my wrist out hunting last week, and if I attempt the job, it will be a case of 'mangling done here.'"
The dish was removed and placed before the clergyman, and upon the cover being taken off, great was the delight and surprise of the victim to find his purse and watch occupying the place of the far-famed bird of Colchis.