CHAPTER XXXV. AN INVITATION. 

We drove straight into the courtyard, having no groom with us and entered the house from the back. As we passed the little room on the ground floor given up for our sole use as a repository for cricket-nets, fishing-tackle, guns, spare harness, and such like appliances, I opened the door, intending to hang my whip up. To my surprise de Cartienne was there in an old coat, with his sleeves turned up, cleaning a gun. He looked up and greeted us as we entered. 

"What a time you men have been! What have you been up to in Little Drayton?" 

"Oh, we had lunch with your friend Fothergill and shacked about," Cecil answered. "Tell you what, Len, he's a very decent fellow." 

De Cartienne was examining the lock of his gun with great attention, and in the dusk I could not catch his expression. 

"Oh, Fothergill's all right!" he answered. "You didn't find him very hungry for his winnings, did you?" 

"I should think not," Cecil replied enthusiastically. "Why, I believe he was actually annoyed with himself for having won at all. I've given him my I O U's." 

"He'll most likely tear them up," de Cartienne remarked. "He's beastly rich and he can't want the money." 

"Where did you drop across him, Len?" asked Cecil, seating himself upon a chest and lighting a cigarette. 

"He's a friend of my governor's. I've known him ever since I was a kid," de Cartienne answered slowly. "There, I think that'll do!" critically looking at the gleaming muzzle which he held in his hand. 
How did they enter the house?
 and entered the house from the back