you may put me in a dungeon, but you
cannot keep me there. The King of France is on my side and against
you, base usurper; and he will send an army and deliver me from the
strongest fortress of those that you have stolen from me.'

King John made a sign; and the boy was hurried away, still defying his
uncle. A horse was waiting for him, and he was made to ride, strongly
guarded, all the long distance to the castle of Falaise, which was
reached early one fine sunny morning.

Standing beneath the grim walls of the castle, the chief of Arthur's
guards blew a horn.

Some men-at-arms stirred upon the battlements; then the drawbridge was
lowered, the iron grating raised which guarded the entrance; and the
party clattered under the entrance tower and into the courtyard.

Arthur descended from his horse; and weary as he was, he was led along
a passage and down a stone staircase to a great iron door which one of
his guides opened with a large key.

Arthur's spirits sank when he saw before him a dreary stone dungeon
lighted only by a window high up in the wall, and furnished with a
narrow bed, a stool, and a heap of straw.

Still, he said to himself, it was only for a few days. To-morrow, or
the next day, or the day after that at farthest, the King of France was
sure to come, and then Arthur would mount his gallant horse again, put
himself at the head of his devoted little army, and set forth once more
to make himself King of England.

To-morrow came, and the next day, and the day after that; and Arthur
was still in his dungeon. Weeks passed; and the King of France had not
arrived to rescue the prince who was to be his son-in-law.

Spring came, and sometimes the sun shone brightly through the small
window, and made a brilliant patch of light on the opposite wall of
Prince Arthur's dungeon.--When the breezes blew, branches with young
unfolding leaves would appear for a minute at the opening and then
vanish. Balmy air stole in at the unglazed window and breathed softly
upon the face of the prisoner; and Arthur would hear the song-birds and
the voices of other boys at their games beneath the castle walls, and
all the pleasant sounds of a world where every one save himself
appeared to be at liberty. Sometimes Arthur would sit for hours,
gazing upwards at the tiny square of light, his heart swelling with
impatience as he thought of the spring pastimes that he was losing; and
he wondered when the King of France would com