In heading the boat into the opening in the bluff, he had no idea how his venture would terminate, but was urged on by a great curiosity to explore the spot, feeling sure that it had some connection with the smugglers' league.
The height of the aperture was insufficient to admit the passage of the boat with him sitting up; so putting the boat under headway he lay down and thus glided in.
In high tide, this opening, he concluded, was covered by water, while in extreme low water the beach must be bare in front of the bluff, as the water at this juncture now was quite shallow.
He almost immediately emerged into a cave in the heart of the bluff.
It was as large as a couple of good-sized rooms, and looked as if the waters of many years had eaten it out.
The work of man, however, was seen in the planks overhead, which, resting on wooden supports, held the roof in place.
The water reached about midway into the chamber, and from its edge the pebbly ground ascended to the farther side of the cave, where a narrow aperture branched off—evidently cut as a passageway by the hand of man.
Grounding his boat, Fritz stepped out and took a survey of his surroundings.
"Dis don'd look ash if id vas a healthy blace at high tide, but I reckon dot id vas der blace vere dey run in smuggled goods," he mused. "Dot passage probably leads to a higher und dryer place."
Holding his revolver ready for use in case of emergency, he stole softly toward the subterranean passage, with a view to exploring it.