I kept my eye on him.

I thought a queer fellow like that might be going to walk off with some physic, like Miss Amilly walks off the castor oil.

Presently he comes to that door.
'Where does this lead to ?' said he.

'A private room,' said I, 'and please to keep your hands off it.' Not he.

He lays hold of the false knob, and shakes it, and turns it, and pushes the door, trying to open it.