That “great creature,” like some other “great creatures,” happened, as almanacs say, “about this time” to be somewhat “out at elbows;”—­not in the way of costume, for the very plenitude of his wardrobe was the cause which produced this effect, inasmuch as the word “received” in the veritable autograph of Messrs. Moleskin and Corderoy could nowhere be discovered annexed to the bills thereof:  a slight upon their powers of penmanship which roused their individual, collective, and coparcenary ires to such a pitch, that they, Messrs. Moleskin and Corderoy, through the medium of their Attorneys-at-law, Messrs. Gallowsworthy and Pickles, of Furnival’s Inn, forwarded a writ to the unfortunate Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam,—­the which writ in process of time, being the legal seed, became ripened into a very vigorous execution, and was consigned to the care of a gentleman holding a Civil employment with a Military title, viz. that of “Officer” to the Sheriff of Middlesex, with strict injunctions to the said—­anything but Civil or Military—­nondescript “officer,” to secure and keep the person of Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitzflam till such time as the debt due to Messrs. Moleskin and Corderoy, and the legal charges of Messrs. Gallowsworthy and Pickles, should be discharged, defrayed, and liquidated.

Frequent were the meetings of Messrs. Gallowsworthy and Pickles and their man-trap, and as frequent their disappointments:—­Fitzflam always gave them the double!  Having procured leave of absence from the Town Managers, and finding the place rather too hot to hold him, he departed for the country, and, as fate would have it, arrived at the inn then occupied by Mr. Horatio Fitzharding Fitzfunk.

In this out-of-the-way place he fondly imagined he had never been heard of.  Judge then of his surprise, after his dinner and pint of wine, at the following information.

Fitz. “Waiter.”

“Yes, sar.”

“Who have you in the house?”

“Fust of company, sar;—­alwaist, sar.”

“Oh! of course;—­any one in particular?”

“Yes, sar, very particular:  one gentleman very particular, indeed.  Has his bed warmed with brown sugar in the pan, and drinks asses’ milk, sar, for breakfast!”

“Strange fellow! but I mean any one of name?”

“Yes, sar, a German, sar; with a name so long, sar, it take all the indoor servants and a stable-helper to call him up of a morning.”

“You don’t understand me.  Have you any public people here?”

“Yes, sar—­great man from town, sar—­belongs to the Theatre—­Mr. Fitzflam, sar—­quite the gentleman, sar.”

“Thank you for the compliment” (bowing low).

“No compliment at all, sar; would you like to see him, sar?—­sell you a ticket, sar; or buy one of you, sar.”

“What?”

“House expected to be full, sar—­sure to sell it again, sar.”