“Madame has done so,” said the first valet de chambre. “Madame wants to be alone with the remains of her husband.”
The prince shrugged his shoulders, and, followed by the legal gentlemen, he walked to the door, which he vainly tried to open.
“I believe that woman has locked the door,” said the prince, angrily.
“Yes, sir, madame has locked the door,” said the valet de chambre; “she does not want to be disturbed in her grief by mere visits of condolence.”
“Well, let us leave her, then, to her grief,” exclaimed the prince, with a sarcastic smile. “Come, gentlemen, let us attend to our business. Let us take an inventory of the furniture in the several rooms and then seal them. You may be our guide, valet.”
But the valet de chambre shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Pardon me, sir, that is impossible. His highness, our late prince and master, several days ago, when he felt that his end was drawing near, caused every room to be locked and sealed by the first attache of the legation in the presence of all the members of the embassy. The keys to all the rooms, however, were handed by order of the prince to madame, his wife.”
The new prince, Henry XV., turned somewhat uneasily to the legal gentlemen.
“Have we a right to open the doors forcibly?”
“No, that would be contrary to law,” said one of the lawyers, in a low voice. “The late prince has doubtless left some directions in relation to this matter and intrusted them to the officers of the legation. Your highness ought to apply to those gentlemen.”
“Is the first attache of the legation, Baron Werdern, in the palace?” said the prince to the valet de chambre.