he stair. For an instant
she paused and whispered timourously,--

"Who art thou?"

"Julian," came as softly back, and a white hand was stretched out to
her. Down she flew, intrepid.

"Would I send another to meet thee; didst thou think to turn back, my
Katherine?"

"Nay, I should not have turned back; but 'twas assuring to hear thy
name. I am not afraid, yet--yet I tremble."

"And 'tis sweet of thee so to do; 'tis maidenly that thou shouldst;
'tis the way of woman. Thou art not afraid, yet thou dost tremble;
thou dost try to be brave, yet thou must be assured, and I am here by
thy side to assure thee ever," he whispered in her ear.

Down they swept across the upper terrace. Slowly they crossed the
greensward, with fairy-like light of firefly to illumine the way;
speaking as lovers will, with bated breath. The wind blew gently now
and again, casting a shower of petals upon them as they passed. When
the leaves shone white, the cavalier would say:

"We are so blessed, nature herself doth sprinkle the bridal path with
flowers;"--or, when there fell a darksome shower, Katherine would
press close to her lover's side and say,--

"Indeed, Julian, these are petals from those blood-red roses that have
hung in such profusion all summer. It may have some significance. I
believe I must return; 'tis not too late to recede."

Then the cavalier drew her closer than before, and so tenderly did
plead with her, she forgot her fears. So step by step they neared the
thicket where stood the ancient sun-dial that was well-nigh hid with
bridal roses.

The Chaplain stood ready; his fragile, pale countenance, hid by the
darkness. There was no faltering now. Katherine did not think to turn
back; that her heart was not with Sir Julian, that she would ever
regret this greatest moment in her life, but stood resolute.

The Chaplain began the ceremony at once, and so softly one could
scarcely hear a yard away. Katherine was agitated with the thought
that she was really being wedded, and hardly heeded when the Chaplain
raised or lowered his voice; appearing almost like one in a dream, so
blinded was she with the glamour of her new estate.

At last the Chaplain said the final words, pronouncing the twain as
one, and gave his blessing in a somewhat stronger voice that carried
in it a note of triumph, and was about to step down from the pedestal
of the dial when there flew out from the darkness a young man with
drawn sword, who dashed imme