"I cannot pray," she said; "I have nothing to pray to. I am not a
Christian."
The words struck him like a blow. It seemed so awful to think of
this proud and brilliant woman, now balanced on the verge of what she
believed to be utter annihilation. Even the courage that induced her at
such a moment to confess her hopeless state seemed awful.
"Try," he said with a gasp.
"No," she answered, "I do not fear to die. Death cannot be worse than
life is for most of us. I have not prayed for years, not since--well,
never mind. I am not a coward. It would be cowardly to pray now because
I may be wrong. If there is a God who knows all, He will understand
that."
Geoffrey said no more, but laboured at the broken paddle gallantly and
with an ever-failing strength. The lightning had passed away and the
darkness was very great, for the hurrying clouds hid the starlight.
Presently a sound arose above the turmoil of the storm, a crashing
thunderous sound towards which the send of the sea gradually bore them.
The sound came from the waves that beat upon the Bryngelly reef.
"Where are we drifting to?" he cried.
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