Tavia crowded close to her side and Dorothy saw that she also had discovered the answer to the riddle.
With infinite caution Dorothy crept still closer to the entrance of the cave, peering around the edge of the rock.
The cave was so dark that at first she could see nothing.
Then, as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she made out the figure of a man squatting upon something that looked like an overturned keg or small barrel. His back was turned squarely to her so that she could not catch even a profile glimpse of his face.
Then, her eyes searching feverishly, they fell upon an object that very nearly caused her to forget the need of caution.
Lying huddled upon the floor of the cave, pushed a little further into the darkness than the man’s figure, was something that appeared to be a bunch of old clothes. It moved, cried out in misery, and Dorothy knew that it was Joe.
Every instinct in her prompted her to fly to him, to take him in her arms and loose the cruel bonds that bound him.
She half rose to her feet. A sound that seemed loud to Tavia, crouching at her side, but was, in reality, only the shadow of a sound, escaped her lips.
Tavia immediately drew her down, pressed a warning hand against her lips.
“Don’t spoil it all now!” she hissed. “Lie still and wait.”