Thither we have likewise brought the General, and given him ample time to spell through the papers, and reconnoitre his acquaintance as they pass up and down St. James’s Street. But the General is ill at ease--he cannot get that infernal anonymous letter out of his head; do what he will, he cannot prevent himself from glancing at the second column of the _Times_, and poring over a map of London in search of Goat Street, Tiler’s Road, Lambeth. He fancies, too, as a man is apt to do when self-conscious of anything peculiar, that people look at him strangely; and if two men happen to whisper in a window, he cannot help thinking they must be talking about him. At last he gets nervous, and determines to take counsel of a friend; nor is he long in selecting a recipient for his sorrows, inasmuch as the most remarkable object in the room is Sir Bloomer Buttercup, who is standing in an attitude near the fireplace (Sir Bloomer, for certain mechanical reasons, cannot sit down in that particular pair of trousers), and to him the General resolves to confide his annoyances, and by his advice determines to abide. Although, probably, no man in this world ever managed his own affairs so badly as Sir Bloomer Buttercup--partly, it must be owned, in consequence of his having the most generous heart that ever beat under three inches of padding--yet in all matters unconnected with self, his judgment was as sound as his penetration was remarkable. No man had got his friends out of so many scrapes, no man had given such good counsel, and no man had probably done so many foolish things as kind, good-natured Sir Bloomer; and when he minced after the General into an empty room on those poor, gouty, shiny toes, he really felt as ready as he expressed himself, to “see his old friend through it, whatever it was.” “I’ll tell you what, Bounce,” lisped the old beau, as the General concluded his tale with that most puzzling of questions, “What would you advise me to do?”--“I’ll tell you what. I think I know a fellow that can sift this for us to the bottom. You know, my dear boy, that I have occasionally been in slight difficulties--merely temporary, of course, and entirely owing to circumstances over which I had no control” (Sir B. had spent two fortunes, and was now living on the recollection of them, and the possible reversion of a third)--“but still difficulties--eh?--a ten-knot breeze was always more to my fancy than a calm. Well, I’ve been brought in contact with all kinds of fellows, and I do know one man, a sort of a lawyer, that’s in with every rogue in London. He could get to the rights of this in twenty-four hours if we made it worth his while. He’s a clever fellow,” added Bloomer reflectively, “a very clever fellow; in fact, a most consummate rascal. Shall I take you to him?” “This instant,” burst out the General, with a terrific snatch at the bell; “I’ll send for my brougham--what?--it’ll be here in five minutes. Zounds! not go in a brougham? Why not?”