.

IN THE RED LION.
What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here?
_Midsummer Night's Dream._ Time out of mind there had stood on the high street of Wythburn a modest house of entertainment, known by the sign of the Red Lion.
Occasionally it accommodated the casual traveller who took the valley road to the north, but it was intended for the dalesmen, who came there after the darkness had gathered in, and drank a pot of home-brewed ale as they sat above the red turf fire.
This was the house to which Wilson's body had been carried on the morning it was found on the road.

That was about Martinmas.

One night, early in the ensuing winter, a larger company than usual was seated in the parlor of the little inn.

It was a quaint old room, twice as long as it was broad, and with a roof so low that the taller shepherds stooped as they walked under its open beams.
From straps fixed to the rafters hung a gun, a whip, and a horn.