When they reached the entrance, the rain was coming down in torrents. Great lanterns hung either side of the portal, and disclosed the fact that the gates were shut and locked.
Roger had expected this, for he felt sure the Warners had long ago given up all thought of seeing their guests that night.
Repeated soundings of the horn failed to bring any response from the lodge-keeper, and Roger was just about to get out of the car, and ring the bell at the large door, when Patty’s quick eye discerned a faint light at one of the windows.
“Sure enough,” said Roger, as she called his attention to this, and after a few moments the large door was opened, and the porter gazed out into the storm.
“All right, sir, all right,” he called, seeing the car; and donning a great raincoat, he came out to open the gates.
“Well, well, sir,” he said, as Mr. Farrington leaned out to speak with him, “this is a night, sure enough! Mr. Warner, sir, he gave up looking for you at midnight.”
“I don’t wonder,” said Mr. Farrington, “and now, my man, can you ring your people up, and is there anybody to take care of the car?”
“Yes, sir, yes, sir,” said the porter, “just you drive on up to the house, and I’ll go back to the lodge and ring up the chauffeur, and as soon as he can get around he’ll take care of your car. I’ll ring up the housekeeper too, but she’s a slow old body, and you’d best sound your horn all the way up the drive.”
Roger acted on this advice and The Fact went tooting up the driveway, and finally came to a standstill at the front entrance of Pine Branches.
They were under a porte-cochère, and as soon as they stopped, Elise jumped out, and began a vigorous onslaught on the doorbell. Roger kept the horn sounding, and after a few moments the door was opened by a somewhat sleepy-looking butler. As they entered, Mr. Warner, whose appearance gave evidence of a hasty toilet, came flying down the staircase, three steps at a time.