"Of a surety? When I name the hour, wilt thou not gainsay?"
"Nay, my lord. I will not gainsay."
"Then—at eleven, Katherine." She caught her breath quickly and cried forth,—
"This day, Sir Julian! Indeed, thou art in haste, I—I—"
"Thou hast given thy word. At eleven, Katherine."
"By sands or dial?"
"Ah, sweet Katherine, both shall have a bridal favour. We will confer with each. When the golden sand runs out at the eleventh hour, the dial will be alone and in shadow; for if it please thee, we must be wed secretly and in haste. I noticed but awhile ago how beautiful the dial was. So the sands shall give us the hour, the dial the altar, and the nightingale the nuptial mass."
"But the priest, Sir Julian—"
"He shall give us the blessing—"
"Nay, nay; where wilt thou find a priest?" This was not an unexpected question, and Sir Julian was ready for it.