The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders

The next day she come to my governess and tells her that Sir ---- was

at home, but that he had met with a disaster and was very ill, and

there was no speaking with him. 'What disaster?' says my governess

hastily, as if she was surprised at it. 'Why,' says her friend, 'he

had been at Hampstead to visit a gentleman of his acquaintance, and as

he came back again he was set upon and robbed; and having got a little

drink too, as they suppose, the rogues abused him, and he is very ill.'

'Robbed!' says my governess, 'and what did they take from him?' 'Why,'

says her friend, 'they took his gold watch and his gold snuff-box, his

fine periwig, and what money he had in his pocket, which was

considerable, to be sure, for Sir ---- never goes without a purse of

guineas about him.' 'Pshaw!' says my old governess, jeering, 'I warrant you he has got

drunk now and got a whore, and she has picked his pocket, and so he

comes home to his wife and tells her he has been robbed. That's an old

sham; a thousand such tricks are put upon the poor women every day.' 'Fie!' says her friend, 'I find you don't know Sir ----; why he is as

civil a gentleman, there is not a finer man, nor a soberer, graver,

modester person in the whole city; he abhors such things; there's

nobody that knows him will think such a thing of him.' 'Well, well,'

says my governess, 'that's none of my business; if it was, I warrant I

should find there was something of that kind in it; your modest men in

common opinion are sometimes no better than other people, only they

keep a better character, or, if you please, are the better hypocrites.' 'No, no,' says her friend, 'I can assure you Sir ---- is no hypocrite,

he is really an honest, sober gentleman, and he has certainly been

robbed.' 'Nay,' says my governess, 'it may be he has; it is no

business of mine, I tell you; I only want to speak with him; my

business is of another nature.' 'But,' says her friend, 'let your

business be of what nature it will, you cannot see him yet, for he is

not fit to be seen, for he is very ill, and bruised very much,' 'Ay,'

says my governess, 'nay, then he has fallen into bad hands, to be

sure,' And then she asked gravely, 'Pray, where is he bruised?' 'Why,

in the head,' says her friend, 'and one of his hands, and his face, for

they used him barbarously.' 'Poor gentleman,' says my governess, 'I

must wait, then, till he recovers'; and adds, 'I hope it will not be

long, for I want very much to speak with him.' Away she comes to me and tells me this story. 'I have found out your

fine gentleman, and a fine gentleman he was,' says she; 'but, mercy on

him, he is in a sad pickle now. I wonder what the d--l you have done

to him; why, you have almost killed him.' I looked at her with

disorder enough. 'I killed him!' says I; 'you must mistake the person;

I am sure I did nothing to him; he was very well when I left him,' said

I, 'only drunk and fast asleep.' 'I know nothing of that,' says she,

'but he is in a sad pickle now'; and so she told me all that her friend

had said to her. 'Well, then,' says I, 'he fell into bad hands after I

left him, for I am sure I left him safe enough.' About ten days after, or a little more, my governess goes again to her

friend, to introduce her to this gentleman; she had inquired other ways

in the meantime, and found that he was about again, if not abroad

again, so she got leave to speak with him.