The exasperated owner went to complain to the Council, who sent orders to the invaders to leave the house and take their master’s clothes with them, and two _alguazils_ to see that they did so; because, never dreaming that the Ambassador intended to resist the law--“a thing unheard of in that country”--they did not think it necessary to send any more. But the French and their Venetian allies fell upon the unfortunate officers and killed them, after which, in derision, they hung their _vares_, or wands of office, from the balcony of the house. The townsfolk, on learning of this outrage, were infuriated, and soon an armed mob more than two thousand strong besieged the house and the Ambassador, “who had gone in by a back door.” The garrison, on their side, prepared for a desperate resistance, and a sanguinary affray seemed inevitable, when, happily, an _alcalde_, Don Sebastian de Carvajal, arrived on the scene, persuaded the mob to disperse and the Ambassador and his people to evacuate their fortress, and carried off Du Fargis in his carriage to the French Embassy. Although Du Fargis had only himself to blame for this affair, he had the presumption to seek an audience of Philip III and “demand justice for the outrage which had been committed against him, contrary to the Law of Nations.” The King promised to give him every satisfaction and appointed a commission to inquire into the matter. But when he was informed of what had actually occurred, he was very angry, and gave orders that, while the sacred persons of the Ambassadors of France and Venice were to be scrupulously respected, every one of their people who could be found outside the Embassies, unless he happened to be in attendance on his master at the time, and therefore covered by the ægis of his presence, was to be promptly arrested and hauled off to prison. The _alguazils_, burning to avenge their murdered comrades, went to work with right good will, and rounded up secretaries of legation, attachés, lackeys, and chefs so effectively, that in a day or two their Excellencies could hardly find anyone to copy their despatches or prepare their meals. “The Ambassador himself,” says Bassompierre, “not feeling himself safe from the fury of the people, withdrew from the town, and wrote to the King to warn him of the situation to which he was reduced, and to me to delay my arrival.”