“We’ll stop here,” said Elk, and the car was pulled from the road on to the green sidewalk.
Elk got down.
“Walk a little up the road while I talk to Captain Gordon,” he said to the chauffeur, and then he talked, and Dick listened in amazement and unbelief.
“Now,” said Elk, “we’ve got about five minutes’ walk, as far as I can remember. I haven’t been to Windsor races for so long that I’ve almost forgotten where the houses are.”
They found the entrance to the Seven Gables between two stiff yew hedges. There was no gateway; a broad, gravelled path ran between a thick belt of pine trees, behind which the house was hidden. Elk went a little ahead. Presently he stopped and raised his hand warningly. Dick came a little nearer, and, looking over the shoulder of the detective, had his first view of Seven Gables.
It was a large house, with timbered walls and high, twisted chimney-stacks.
“Pseudo-Elizabethan,” said Dick admiringly.
“1066,” murmured Elk, “or was it 1599? That’s some house!”
It was growing dusk, and lights were showing from a broad window at the farther end of the building. The arched doorway was facing them.
“Let us go back,” whispered Elk, and they retraced their steps.