A boat was waiting at the bottom, in which sat two men.

The torch of the jailor cast a sudden glare over the dark waters, and by its light Arthur recognised, with horror and despair, in one of the two the cruel features of his Uncle John.

It was useless for him to pray and entreat; it was useless for him to struggle or cry out.

They dragged him into the boat, and held him fast as she drifted under the shadow of those gloomy walls into mid stream.

What happened then no one can tell; but had any listened that still, dark night, they might have heard a boy's wild cry across the waters, and then a dull, heavy splash--and that was all.
The story is that of those two, King John with his own hand did the foul deed.