Oh, have you popped back for another story?

I'm glad you're enjoying them.

This one has danger.

Adventure on mystery.

It's called Night Tonight or The Ghostly Night.

I'm not sure if you know any night, but their honor on reputation is very important to them.

They are brave, courageous, strong on mostly kind.

They cannot turn down a challenge.

Sir Osborne, who is the night of my story, is famous for his chivalry, his care and respect for those weaker than him.

And he is well known for possessing the knightly virtues and skills at a greater degree the most.

Naturally, as he is so well known, he's often invited as the guest of honor to celebrations and feasts.

On one winter, he was invited to stay with the Lord, whose home was pretty much in the middle of England.

It was an old fashioned place, with a great hall for eating, drinking, dancing on the tradition of telling stories as it was winter.

It has soon grown dark, giving plenty of time for the sharing of stories.

Nearly every guest told one or two there were stories of courage in battle, courtesy in love, sad stories of tragedy.

And then, at the end, a ghostly story.

Sir Osborne didn't care much for these kind of stories on had thought to go to bed early when he realized that the hero of the story was a night, he decided to stay to hear it till the end.

It was the legend of the ghostly night of Wendell Berry on The Storyteller was one of the older gentleman of the company who was rather dramatic.

It is said that the ghostly night at Wandell Bree could only be seen by moonlight in the ancient, ruined walls of the fort.

If anyone is brave enough to go through the gap where once the gate stood, they better do so well armed.

If then they call out night tonight, come forth on fight, they will face ah worthy adversary.

They must go alone.

Many a brave man has done such a thing on been knocked dead from his horse by the ghost that appears.

Did I mention that Wandell Berry was quite close?

Well, what was saz but to do leave the challenge alone.

So despite the fact that it was late, he called for his Squire on demanded that his armor and his horse be made ready.

He was going to ride out and face this contender if he really existed.

The moon was high in the night sky.

It was a perfect evening for an adventure.

Now the Lord, the host was in a panic.

Having such a famous night is Sir Osborne as a guest had caused quite a fuss on drawn out a number of his well to do neighbors.

If Sir Osborne were to dyas his guest, well, that would be very bad indeed.

But all the other guests had leapt up at the news that Sir Osborne was to take up the challenge on we're all cheers of encouragement.

Surely this was going to be a night to remember something to tell their friends, their Children, their grandchildren, something to talk off for years and years.

Soon, sir Osborne was ready.

He had on his body his a strongest harness on his head, his strongest helm on he was riding his strongest and bravest horse with his Squire by his side.

He bid the lords and ladies gathered goodbye.

They rode out toe Wandell, Bree They could see the ruined fort walls by the moonlight.

As they approached, Sir Osborne turned to his Squire and asked him to wait.

He then ventured through the gap and within the walls.

May I remind you that Sir Osborne is a famed night on as such is courageous, brave and bold in the face of all danger, including ghostly beings, he hoped when he'd reached the middle of the fort he lowered his lance and made ready on, then called out in a loud voice night tonight come forth on fight But nothing happened.

So we called again Night tonight, come forth on fight but no movement night tonight on then against the far wall Ah, horse appeared on on his back a night in splendid black armor that glinted in the moonlight.

He turned his horse on, lowered his lance Facing Sir Osborne.

Sir, Osborne urged his horse on on the two nights charged at each other.

Their lances set for full impact.

But as they passed both nights missed their mark.

They pulled up their horses and turned again.

They lowered their lances, the horses kicked up the grass and dirt has both nights thundered towards each other, But they missed again.

They turned around, Sir Osborne set his jaw on, lowered his aunts.

They thundered towards each other on the ghostly night, missed his mark.

But Sir Osborne hit his true and square in the chest.

He fell to the ground, snapping his lance as he went.

But there was no chivalry.

With the ghostly night in anger, he picked up his broken lance and threw it like a spirit, Sir Osborne.

And it hit him in the flesh of his thigh.

Our hero didn't notice the wound.

Now, by the rules of chivalry in contests like this between two nights, the winner is allowed to take the others horse.

It took him a moment.

But Sir Osborne eventually caught the fine stallion.

It was a great beast.

True, worthy prize indeed.

He turned to talk to his enemy.

But where he had laid in the ground, there was nothing.

He had disappeared.

So Osborne called his Squire on.

They searched.

But hey had gone.

And so they made their way back to the manor house.

Sir Osborne returned to find that despite the late hour, all the guests had stayed on, had posted a lookout.

They came to give him a hero's return.

Nobles.

Men ladies alike admired the new horse on.

They commented on.

It's a spirited beauty, its fierce I on its proud longneck.

It was a worthy prize indeed.

On, they congratulated him on his victory when he came to remove his armor, Sir Osborne's Squire noticed the wound, which had bled horribly, but our hero brushed it aside as a mere scratch.

Soon it was time for everyone to return to bear door to journey home.

Sir Osborne made his way to the guest chambers to rest until mid morning, however, when dawn broke, it seemed all was not well in the stables of the new stallion appeared to show signs of unrest.

In fact, as the first cock crow to announce morning, it began to prance in its stool.

By the second, it began to pour on the ground.

At the third crow, it kicked out, turned and kicked out again and broke free.

It's car pulled out of the stable yard.

The stable hands and the groom's awoke to this and tried to stop the furious beast.

But it was too late.

He was last seen disappearing over the distant hills.

Immediately, a search was put in place, but it was in vain when he awoke and was told.

Sir Osborne set a search with some men, but that was in vain.

The host, the Lord, demanded that the search reached out to allow the nearby villages.

But that was in vain.

The horse was never seen again.

Sir Osborne and others have been known to return to the fort on moonlit nights and call out to draw forward the ghost night tonight, come forth and fight.

But he's never reappeared.

The story has since become legend.

A tale to tell on dark winter nights.

But those who were there will remember the magnificence of the horse.

And every year, the wound caused by the splintered lance in his thigh burst open to remind Sir Osborne of his encounter with the ghostly night.

Now, I've almost finished my mending, so I'm gonna leave it there.

And I wish you well.

Mm hmm.