No violence shall be done to you or the lady, who must take your trials for your deeds before the King's court, and there tell your story, true or false." So, having been disarmed of their swords, they were allowed to remount their horses and taken on towards Seville as prisoners.
"At least," said Margaret to Peter, "we have nothing more to fear from highwaymen, and have escaped these soldiers' swords unhurt." "Yes," answered Peter with a groan, "but I hoped that to-night we should have slept upon the _Margaret_ while she slipped down the river towards the open sea, and not in a Spanish jail.

Now, as fate will have it, for the second time I have killed a man on your behalf, and all the business will begin again.

Truly our luck is bad!" "I think it might be worse, and I cannot blame you for that deed," answered Margaret, remembering the rough hands of the dead soldier, whom some of his comrades had stopped behind to bury.
During all the remainder of that long day they rode on through the burning heat, across the rich, cultivated plain, towards the great city of Seville, whereof the Giralda, which once had been the minaret of a Moorish mosque, towered hundreds of feet into the air before them.

At length, towards evening, they entered the eastern suburbs of the vast city and, passing through them and a great gate beyond, began to thread its tortuous streets.
"Whither go we, Captain Arrano ?" asked Castell presently.
"To the prison of the Holy Hermandad to await your trial for the slaying of one of its soldiers," answered the officer.
"I pray that we may get there soon then," said Peter, looking at Margaret, who, overcome with fatigue, swayed upon her saddle like a flower in the wind.
"So do I," muttered Castell, glancing round at the dark faces of the people, who, having discovered that they had killed a Spanish soldier, and taking them to be Moors, were marching alongside of them in great numbers, staring sullenly, or cursing them for infidels.

Indeed, once when they passed a square, a priest in the mob cried out, "Kill them!" whereon a number of rough fellows made a rush to pull them off their horses, and were with difficulty beaten back by the soldiers.
Foiled in this attempt they began to pelt them with garbage, so that soon their white robes were stained and filthy.