The most difficult part of the business had been old Ketch; but that was managed.
Once more we must pay a visit to Mr. Ketch in his lodge, at his supper hour.
This was one of them, and Ketch anticipated a glorious treat.
Hold your tongue, old Ketch, or I'll call Mr. Harper down to you.
The other masters lived at a distance, and Ketch's old legs were aching.
"I expect the worst that has happened may be a battle royal with old Ketch," said he.
But to pummel was one thing, and to arouse Mr. Ketch was another.
They went through the cloisters to the south gate, Ketch grumbling all the way.
Mr. Ketch started as if he had been shot, and his noise dropped to a calm.
"And that bear of a Ketch won't hurry himself to unlock them," soliloquized he.