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TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
CHAPTER V.
For this are all these warriors come,
To hear an idle tale;
And o'er our death-accustomed arms
Shall silly tears prevail?
On the evening of the day when the Lord Keeper and his daughter were saved from such imminent peril, two strangers were seated in the most private apartment of a smalt obscure inn, or rather alehouse, called the Tod's Den, about three or four miles from the Castle of Ravenswood, and as far from the ruinous tower of Wolf's Crag, betwixt which two places it was situated.
One of these strangers was about forty years of age, tall, and thin in the flanks, with an aquiline nose, dark penetrating
