Then he turned to the next cask, drew some wine, rinsed the flagon, threw the wine away, drew and rinsed and threw away again, then drew and drank, draining to the bottom.

Last of all, he filled the flagon from the cask he had first visited, replaced then the vent-peg, took up his candle, and turned toward the door.
'There is something wrong here!' thought Curdie.
'Speak to him, Lina,' he whispered.
The sudden howl she gave made Curdie himself start and tremble for a moment.

As to the man, he answered Lina's with another horrible howl, forced from him by the convulsive shudder of every muscle of his body, then reeled gasping to and fro, and dropped his candle.

But just as Curdie expected to see him fall dead he recovered himself, and flew to the door, through which he darted, leaving it open behind him.

The moment he ran, Curdie stepped out, picked up the candle still alight, sped after him to the door, drew out the key, and then returned to the stair and waited.