Midnight
Glendow Rectory `` Are you cold , lad ? '' `` No , '' was the brief reply . Parson John , Rector of Glendow , glanced down at the little muffled figure at his side . He reached over , tucked in the robes more closely about their feet , and spoke one word to Midnight . The horse , noble animal that she was , bounded forward . The ice , glassy and firm , stretched out far ahead . It was a raw , midwinter day and the wind drifting in from the north-east presaged a storm .