In the stone wall, at either side of the room, were doorways supplied with strong, grated iron doors, which were fastened with padlocks and chains.
"Vel, I be jiggered off dis don'd vas yoost like a regular brizon," Fritz ejaculated; "und dis pe der blace vere der smugglers unpack deir goods. I t'ought I vould discoffer somet'ings, off I come here. Vonder uff dey haff got somepody shut up mit dem cells? Dot vouldn't pe so much off a 'sell,' neider, off I am any shudge."
Taking down the lamp, he proceeded to inspect the matter. Approaching the right-hand dungeon, he peered in.
The place, evidently, was empty.
Crossing the cavern to the door of the other, to his surprise he saw that this dungeon was occupied.
Upon a rude cot bed, a woman was stretched, apparently fast asleep.
As her face was turned from his view, he could not tell whether she was young or old, pretty or ugly, but he was strangely impressed. Her size—form—clothing, all aroused his suspicions that it really was the Leadville man's runaway daughter—Madge Thornton, or Thurston, as she had called herself. He was staggered a moment by the very thought.
"Hello! vake oop—who you vas?" he shouted, rattling the door.
The woman gave a violent start, and sat up on her cot, with a gasp: it was indeed the speculator's lost daughter!
"Goot! dot vas a nest egg for me!" was the thought that flashed through his mind, as he remembered the offered reward.