THE FORTUNES AND MISFORTUNES OF MOLL FLANDERS
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'I am sorry if you do', says I, 'for I would not have him exposed on any account in the world; he has had injury enough already, and I would not be instrumental to do him any more.' 'No, no', says she; 'I will do him no injury, but you may let me satisfy my curiosity a little, for if it is he, I warrant you I find it out.' I was a little startled at that, and I told her, with an apparent concern in my face, that by the same rule he might find me out, and then I was undone. She returned warmly, 'Why, do you think I will betray you, child? No, no', says she, 'not for all he is worth in the world. I have kept your counsel in worse things than these? sure you may trust me in this.' So I said no more.
She laid her scheme another way, and without acquainting me with it, but she was resolved to find it out. So she goes to a certain friend of hers, who was acquainted in the family that she guessed at, and told her she had some extraordinary business with such a gentleman (who, by the way, was no less than a baronet and of a very good family), and that she knew not how to come at him without somebody to introduce her. Her friend promised her readily to do it, and accordingly goes to the house to see if the gentleman was in town.
The next day she comes 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 to 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, 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 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 his head', says her friend, 'and one of his hands, and his face, for they used him barbarously.' 'Poor gentleman',
