Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things. There would be no moon. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. That for you!" And she snapped her fingers in his face. "I am here, you see," said the smith. At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. What!—add another drop to her cup? Who knows? Any day they may find me. " This simple admission disarmed McClintock. "I don't know," she answered vaguely.
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