Here there was an interruption. The ejected guest rose from his sitting posture on the steps, and essayed to lift the latch and gain fresh admittance.
He failed, for Grit, foreseeing the attempt, had bolted the door.
Finding he could not open the door, Travers rattled the latch and called out:
"Open the door, Brandon, and let me in!"
"Open the door, Grit," said his stepfather, not finding it convenient to rise.
"I refuse to do so, Mr. Brandon," said Grit, in a firm tone.
"Why don't you let me in?" was heard from the outside, as Travers rattled the latch once more.
"I'll have to open it myself," said Brandon, half rising and trying to steady himself.
The attempt was vain, for he had already drunk more than was good for him when he met Travers, and had drunk several glasses on top of that.