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.