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. Beethoven; he’s the best of them. " As Jonathan said this, Jack's hand involuntarily sought a pistol. “I cannot say more. "Rather cramped, eh?" "Rather so, Sir," replied the other, altering his position.
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