Part of one of the pillars which supported the entrance gate was down.

In the avenue some trees that had fallen last winter lay across the way; no one had troubled to remove them.
I knew there was no one in the house but Captain Cardew's soldier-servant, Terence Murphy, whose old mother lived in Araglin village.

I did not want to meet Terence; and I had an idea, having heard of the great extent of Brosna--indeed, it was easy to judge of it from the aspect of the place outside--that I might slip in somewhere and leave my letter without meeting with him.
So, without going near the hall door, I passed through a little iron gate in the wall at one end of the house, which I found led to an overgrown garden.
The grass in the garden was as high as my waist, and here and there a rose tree, standing up above the tangle, showed a pale autumn rose; and little old-fashioned chrysanthemum bushes bore their clusters of tawny and lilac flowers.

Beyond, I could see a kitchen garden with the apples in the boughs, and, standing up in the midst of it, a projecting part of the house which, to my amazement, was covered with thatch.
I was reassured at the moment by hearing Terence Murphy's voice shouting at a distance.

It must have been at the other side of the house, in the stable-yard, I judged, and I thought I should be able to deliver my letter before he could by any possibility reach where I was.
There was a glass door leading from the thatched room into the garden, and I found that it stood open.