Coraut, the blind preacher, preached as usual (April 20th). He was at once arrested and imprisoned. In the afternoon, Farel and Calvin, accompanied by several of the most eminent citizens of Geneva, appeared before the Council to protest against Coraut's imprisonment, and to demand his release--Farel speaking with his usual daring vehemence, and reminding the magistrates that but for his work in the city they would not be in the position they occupied. The request was refused, and the Council took advantage of the presence of the preachers to ask them whether they would at once introduce the Bern usages. They replied that they had no objection to the ceremonies, and would be glad to use them in worship provided they were properly adopted,[133] but not on a simple order from the Council. Farel and Calvin were then forbidden to preach. Next day the two pastors preached as usual--Calvin in St. Peter's and Farel in St. Gervaise. The Council met to consider this act of disobedience. Some were for sending the preachers to prison at once; but it was resolved to summon the _Council of the Two Hundred_ on the morrow (April 22nd) and the _General Council_ on the 24th. The letters of Bern (March 5th, March 20th, April 15th) were read, and the Two Hundred resolved that they would "live according to the ceremonies of Bern." What then was to be done with Calvin and Farel? Were they to be sent to the town's prison? No! Better to wait till the Council secured other preachers (it had been trying to do so and had failed), and then dismiss them. The General Council then met;[134] resolved to "live according to the ceremonies of Bern," and to banish the three preachers from the town, giving them three days to collect their effects.[135] Calvin and Farel were sent into exile, and the magistrates made haste to seize the furniture which had been given them when they were settled as preachers. Calvin long remembered the threats and dangers of these April days and nights. He was insulted in the streets. Bullies threatened to "throw him into the Rhone." Crowds of the baser sort gathered round his house. They sang ribald and obscene songs under his windows. They fired shots at night, more than fifty one night, before his door--"more than enough to astonish a poor scholar, timid as I am, and as I confess I have always been."[136] It was the memory of these days that made him loathe the very thought of returning to Geneva.