Caldigate in his hot haste walked up to the iron gates and found them chained.  It was in vain that he shook them, and in vain that he looked at them.  The gates were fully twelve feet high, and spiked at the top.  At each side of the gates ran a wall surmounted by iron railings,—­extending to the gardener’s cottage on the one side, and to the coach-house on the other.  The drive up to the house, which swept round a plot of thick shrubs, lay between the various offices,—­the stables and coach-house being on one side, and the laundry and gardener’s cottage on the other.  From the road there was no mode of ingress for him to this enclosure, unless he could get over the railings.  This might perhaps have been possible, but it would have been quite impossible for him to bring his wife back by the same way.  There was a bell at the gardener’s little gate, which he rang loudly; but no one would come to him.  At last he made his way round into the kitchen-garden by a corner where access was made by climbing a moderately high gate which gave an entrance to the fields.  From thence he had no difficulty in making his way on to the lawn at the back of the house, and up by half-a-dozen stone steps to the terrace which ran along under the windows.  Here he found that the lower shutters were barred on the inside throughout so that he could not look into any of the rooms.  But he could rap at the windows, which he did loudly, and it was in his power to break them if he pleased.  He rapped very loudly; but poor Hester, who sat at the front hall, heard nothing of the noise.

He knew that from the back-garden he could make his way to the front, with more or less of violence.  Between the gardener’s cottage and the laundry there was a covered passage leading to the front, the buildings above being continuous, but leaving a way through for the convenience of the servants.  This, however, was guarded by a trellis-work gate.  But even on this gate the gardener had managed to fix a lock.  When Caldigate reached the spot the man was standing, idle and observant, at his own cottage door.  ‘You had better open this gate,’ said Caldigate, ’or I shall kick it open.’

’You mustn’t do that, Mr. Caldigate.  It’s master’s orders as it’s to be locked.  It’s master’s orders as you ain’t to be in here at all.’  Then Caldigate raised his foot, and the trellis-work gate was very soon despatched.  ‘Very well,’ said the man;—­’very well, Mr. Caldigate.  That’ll have to come agin you when the other things come.  It’s my belief as it’s burglorious.’  Then Caldigate went up before the house windows, and the gardener followed him.

The front door was approached by half-a-dozen stone steps, which were guarded on each side by a curved iron rail.  Along the whole front of the house, passing under the steps, there ran a narrow, shallow area, contrived simply to give light to the kitchen and offices in the basement storey.  But this area was, again, guarded by an iron rail, which was so constructed as to make it impossible that any one less expert than a practised house-breaker should get in or out of any of the windows looking that way.  From the hall there were no less than four windows looking to the front; but they were all equally unapproachable.