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 come and set him free. One day the bolts were withdrawn at an unusual hour. Here, then, was King Philip at last! Arthur turned quickly; and in the archway of the door, he saw the white face of his uncle. [Illustration: Arthur in prison visited by King John.] 'Arthur,' said King John, trying to meet his nephew's eyes, 'will you not trust to your loving uncle?' 'I will trust my loving uncle,' replied the boy, 'when he does me right. Restore to me my kingdom of England, and then come and ask me that question.' The king looked at his nephew, whose high-spirited young face had become so much paler by confinement; then he turned away without a word and left the prison. After this King John took counsel with his advisers.