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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.
But as he became less agitated, he learnt from this lady that she was the widow of a Mr Bokum, who had held an employment in the Custom House; that she was the dearest friend of Mrs MacStinger, 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.
The Captain saw in this a succession of man-traps stretching out infinitely; a series of ages of oppression and coercion, through which the seafaring line was doomed. It was a more memorable sight than the unflinching steadiness of Mrs Bokum and the other lady, the exultation of the short gentleman in the tall hat, or even the fell inflexibility of Mrs MacStinger.
The Captain accompanied it as far as the house-door, but, being made uneasy by the gentler manner of Mrs Bokum, who, now that she was relieved from her engrossing duty for the watchfulness and alacrity of the ladies sensibly diminished when the bridegroom was safely married had greater leisure to show an interest in his behalf, there left it and the captive; faintly pleading an appointment, and promising to return presently.
It was just as funny as a Wooden Leg. It needed much Pep and about two tons of Bokum. Both Words and Music refused to countenance any radical Changes. They said it would be another "Cavalleria" as soon as they could do it before an intelligent Audience of True-Lovers. The Ex-Minstrel Man said there wasn't no such Animal as an intelligent Play-goer.