The count missed his money the next morning, and very well knew
who had it; but, as he knew likewise how fruitless would be any
complaint, he chose to pass it by without mentioning it. Indeed it
may appear strange to some readers that these gentlemen, who knew
each other to be thieves, should never once give the least hint of
this knowledge in all their discourse together, but, on the
contrary, should have the words honesty, honour, and friendship as
often in their mouths as any other men. This, I say, may appear
strange to some; but those who have lived long in cities, courts,
gaols, or such places, will perhaps be able to solve the seeming
absurdity.

When our two friends met the next morning the count (who, though
he did not agree with the whole of his friend's doctrine, was,
however, highly pleased with his argument) began to bewail the
misfortune of his captivity, and the backwardness of friends to
assist each other in their necessities; but what vexed him, he
said, most, was the cruelty of the fair: for he intrusted Wild
with the secret of his having had an intrigue with Miss Theodosia,
the elder of the Miss Snaps, ever since his confinement, though he
could not prevail with her to set him at liberty. Wild answered,
with a smile, "It was no wonder a woman should wish to confine her
lover where she might be sure of having him entirely to herself;"
but added, he believed he could tell him a method of certainly
procuring his escape. The count eagerly besought him to acquaint
him with it. Wild told him bribery was the surest means, and
advised him to apply to the maid. The count thanked him, but
returned, "That he had not a farthing left besides one guinea,
which he had then given her to change." To which Wild said, "He
must make it up with promises, which he supposed he was courtier