It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. Your aunt and I have discussed all this matter. He was standing at the moment close to the hatch, with his ear at the keyhole, and received a severe blow in the face.
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