r, whom she considered a pattern for her sex; that she had
often heard of the Captain, and now hoped he had repented of his past
life; that she trusted Mr Bunsby knew what a blessing he had gained, but
that she feared men seldom did know what such blessings were, until they
had lost them; with more to the same purpose.

All this time, the Captain could not but observe that Mrs Bokum kept
her eyes steadily on the bridegroom, and that whenever they came near a
court or other narrow turning which appeared favourable for flight, she
was on the alert to cut him off if he attempted escape. The other lady,
too, as well as her husband, the short gentleman with the tall hat, were
plainly on guard, according to a preconcerted plan; and the wretched man
was so secured by Mrs MacStinger, that any effort at self-preservation
by flight was rendered futile. This, indeed, was apparent to the mere
populace, who expressed their perception of the fact by jeers and cries;
to all of which, the dread MacStinger was inflexibly indifferent, while
Bunsby himself appeared in a state of unconsciousness.

The Captain made many attempts to accost the philosopher, if only in
a monosyllable or a signal; but always failed, in consequence of the
vigilance of the guard, and the difficulty, at all times peculiar to
Bunsby's constitution, of having his attention aroused by any outward
and visible sign whatever. Thus they approached the chapel, a neat
whitewashed edifice, recently engaged by the Reverend Melchisedech
Howler, who had consented, on very urgent solicitation, to give the
world another two years of existence, but had informed his followers
that, then, it must positively go.

While the Reverend Melchisedech was offering up some extemporary
orisons, the Captain found an opportunity of growling in the
bridegroom's ear:

'What cheer, my lad, what cheer?'

To which Bunsby replied, with a forgetfulness of the Reverend
Melchisedech, which nothing but his desperate circumstances could have
excused:

'D-----d bad,'

'Jack Bunsby,' whispered the Captain, 'do you do this here, of your own
free will?'

Mr Bunsby answered 'No.'

'Why do you do it, then, my lad?' inquired the Captain, not unnaturally.

Bunsby, still looking, and always looking with an immovable countenance,
at the opposite side of the world, made no reply.

'Why not sheer off?' said the Captain. 'Eh?' whispered Bunsby, with a
momentary gleam of hope. 'Sheer off,' said the Capta