perhaps of rescue by those
unfortunate gentlemen who were obscurely suffering and dying in his
cause, he was roused, and bidden by his jailer to come down the staircase
to the foot of the tower. He hurriedly dressed himself and obeyed. When
they came to the bottom of the winding stairs, and the night air from the
river blew upon their faces, the jailer trod upon his torch and put it
out. Then, Arthur, in the darkness, was hurriedly drawn into a solitary
boat. And in that boat, he found his uncle and one other man.

He knelt to them, and prayed them not to murder him. Deaf to his
entreaties, they stabbed him and sunk his body in the river with heavy
stones. When the spring-morning broke, the tower-door was closed, the
boat was gone, the river sparkled on its way, and never more was any
trace of the poor boy beheld by mortal eyes.

The news of this atrocious murder being spread in England, awakened a
hatred of the King (already odious for his many vices, and for his having
stolen away and married a noble lady while his own wife was living) that
never slept again through his whole reign. In Brittany, the indignation
was intense. Arthur's own sister ELEANOR was in the power of John and
shut up in a convent at Bristol, but his half-sister ALICE was in
Brittany. The people chose her, and the murdered prince's father-in-law,
the last husband of Constance, to represent them; and carried their fiery
complaints to King Philip. King Philip summoned King John (as the holder
of territory in France) to come before him and defend himself. King John
refusing to appear, King Philip declared him false, perjured, and guilty;
and again made war. In a little time, by conquering the greater part of
his French territory, King Philip deprived him of one-third of his
dominions. And, through all the fighting that took place, King John was
always found, either to be eating and drinking, like a gluttonous fool,
when the danger was at a distance, or to be running away, like a beaten
cur, when it was near.

You might suppose that when he was losing his dominions at this rate, and
when his own nobles cared so little for him or his cause that they
plainly refused to follow his banner out of England, he had enemies
enough. But he made another enemy of the Pope, which he did in this way.

The Archbishop of Canterbury dying, and the junior monks of that place
wishing to get the start of the senior monks in the appointment of his
successo