A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. "Indeed!" replied the knight, drawing his sword, "the secret, villain, or I will force it from you. Now, he had achieved them, and felt assured of success. Meantime, the Stone Hall was crowded by all the inmates of the jail, debtors, felons, turnkeys, and officers who could obtain permission to witness the ceremony of the prisoner's irons being struck off. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue.
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