he replied, and the utter contempt in his voice went to her heart like a sword-thrust. “Hast a God to pray to before I send thy false soul adrift?”

“I have but one God, Milo; to Him I should not pray.”

She fixed her burning gaze upon him, and in her pained eyes blazed all the tremendous love that actuated her small being.

“A God thou canst not pray to, traitor? Art afraid, then?”

“Not afraid, Milo,” she whispered, and her eyelids drooped. “I cannot pray to one who looks down upon me as thou dost.”

“I?” The giant’s expression changed to frowning displeasure rather than anger. “I?” he repeated.