Several of the kahilis were then fastened to a frame-work in front of the tomb, there to remain until they decay and fall to pieces, or, forestalling this, until another scion of royalty dies.

At this point of the proceedings the multitude set up such a heart-broken wailing as I hope never to hear again.
The soldiers fired three volleys of musketry--the wailing being previously silenced to permit of the guns being heard.

His Highness Prince William, in a showy military uniform (the "true prince," this -- scion of the house over-thrown by the present dynasty--he was formerly betrothed to the Princess but was not allowed to marry her), stood guard and paced back and forth within the door.

The privileged few who followed the coffin into the mausoleum remained sometime, but the King soon came out and stood in the door and near one side of it.

A stranger could have guessed his rank (although he was so simply and unpretentiously dressed) by the profound deference paid him by all persons in his vicinity; by seeing his high officers receive his quiet orders and suggestions with bowed and uncovered heads; and by observing how careful those persons who came out of the mausoleum were to avoid "crowding" him (although there was room enough in the doorway for a wagon to pass, for that matter); how respectfully they edged out sideways, scraping their backs against the wall and always presenting a front view of their persons to his Majesty, and never putting their hats on until they were well out of the royal presence.
He was dressed entirely in black--dress-coat and silk hat--and looked rather democratic in the midst of the showy uniforms about him.