They continued walking on into the wood, when they heard behind them the sound of horns and of horses galloping, and in the twinkling of an eye they beheld the wicked Prince Blackwig, who was hunting in the forest with his men. When he caught sight of Moonflower he knew her at once by her long hair. “Ho!” he cried, “here is our runaway!” for he had already heard of her flight. He dismounted, and, seizing her, placed her upon the saddle, then, leaping up behind her, he put spurs to his horse. One of his servants, seeing Grimaçon, picked him up, saying, “He is a merry little ape, who will make us some sport. Let us take him too.” “Where are we going to?” asked the Princess of Blackwig, as they flew along. “To my castle,” answered the wicked Prince, “where I will throw you and your hideous dwarf into a dungeon in which you shall languish, if you will not marry me as your aunt commands.” “I will never marry thee,” replied she, “shouldst thou tear me in bits for refusing.” When they arrived at Blackwig’s castle the poor captives were thrown into a frightful dungeon, which had only one window, and that on a level with the ground. The place was so deep, and the floor so far down in the earth, that they could hardly see the light, which appeared to them as a little, far-away star. Blackwig was beside himself with fury with the Princess, for, had she married him, he would have gained all the rewards offered by her wicked aunt; and, as he did not intend to poison her, but only to say that he had done so, he hoped when his wife succeeded to the kingdom to share the throne with her. Until then, he intended to keep her hidden in his castle. Truly, it would be a fine thing to be a king, and to have outwitted so clever a woman. The Princess and Grimaçon sat on the floor of their horrible prison; it was so dark that, for a time, they could hardly see; which was just as well, as the place was full of toads and terrible creatures, and the bones of those who had perished there before were strewn around. At last, their eyes began to get accustomed to the darkness, and Moonflower began to realise the horrors of their position. “It is bad enough to perish one’s self in such a place,” she said, “without having brought thee also into trouble, my dear Grimaçon.” “Take courage, Madame,” replied the dwarf, “I feel sure that we shall surmount all obstacles, for now I perceive that the time has come for you to use the gifts you have been given. If you will take my advice you will see what the stream, which promised its help, can do for you.” Half frightened by what she was doing, the Princess repeated these words:— “River rise and river fall, Send the help for which I call!”