He walked behind the chest of drawers and stood facing the wall which was covered with mahogany paneling.  Each panel was about four feet wide by five high, was bordered by a row of carved rosettes and was separated from the adjoining panels by pilasters.

“Now, watch me, Wharton,” said he.  “You see these two rosettes near the bottom of the panel.  You press your thumbs on them, so; and you give a half turn.  That turns a catch.  Then you do this.”  He grasped the pilaster on each side of the panel, gave a gentle pull, and panel and pilasters came away bodily, exposing a moderate-sized cupboard.  I hastily relieved him of the panel, and, when he had recovered his breath, he began to expound the contents of this curious hiding-place.

“That row of books you will take possession of and examine when my lease falls in.  You are my executor and this collection will be yours to keep or give away or destroy, as you think fit.  The books consist of a finger-print album, a portrait album, a catalogue and a history of the collection.  You will find them all quite interesting.  Now I will show you the gems if you will lift those boxes down on to the table.”

I did as he asked; lifting down the pile of shallow boxes and placing them, at his direction, side by side on the table.  When they were arranged to his satisfaction, he took off the lids with somewhat of a flourish, and I uttered an exclamation of amazement.

The boxes were filled with dolls’ heads; at least, such I took them to be.  But such dolls!  I had never seen anything like them before.  So horribly realistic and yet so unnatural!  I can only describe the impression they produced by that much-misused word “weird.”  They were uncanny in the extreme, suggesting to the beholder the severed heads of a company of fantastic, grotesque-looking dwarfs.  Let me try to describe them in detail.

Each head was about the size of a small monkey’s, that is, about four inches long.  It appeared to be made of some fine leather or vellum, remarkably like human skin in texture.  The hair in all of them was disproportionately long and very thick, so that it looked somewhat like a paint-brush.  But it was undoubtedly human hair.  The eyebrows too were unnaturally thick and long and so were the mustache and beard, when present; being composed, as I could plainly see, of genuine mustache and beard hairs of full length and very closely set.  Some were made to represent clean-shaven men, and some even showed two or three days’ growth of stubble; which stubble was disproportionately long and most unnaturally dense.  The eyes of all were closed and the eyelashes formed a thick, projecting brush.  But despite the abnormal treatment of the hairy parts, these little heads had the most astonishingly realistic appearance and were, as I have said, excessively weird and rather dreadful in aspect.  And, in spite of the closed eyes and set features, each had an expression and character of its own; each, in fact, seemed to be a faithful and spirited portrait of a definite individual.  They were upwards of twenty in number, all male and all represented persons of the European type.  Each reposed in a little velvet-lined compartment and each was distinguished by a label bearing a number and a date.