Almost at once he stopped the car and jumped out of it. A turreted gateway, relic of a far-removed epoch, rose in the high wall which encircled the estate. The gate was shut. While Raoul was engaged in opening it, they heard, dominating the dull noise of the engine, the barking of a dog.
From the clearness of the sound and the direction from which it came Raoul declared that Goliath was not inside the Manor, but outside it, at the foot of the steps, also that he was barking in front of a shut-up house.
"Well, are you never going to open that gate?" cried Dorothy.
He came back hurriedly to her.
"It's very disquieting. Some one has shot the bolt and turned the key in the lock."
"Don't they always?"
"Never. Some stranger has done it.... And then you hear that barking."
"Well?"
"There's another gate two hundred yards further on."
"And suppose that's locked too. No: we must act at once."