“He is dressed in a long, white robe and in his hand is a white cap. I draw up as he passes down the hall; he does not see me. Shortly I hear a horse leaving. There is much I do not know about him, but tonight I know one of his secrets. He is a midnight rider.”

Nancy B. Brewer

Nancy B. Brewer - “He is dressed in a long, white robe...” 1

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