The duke, knowing that right was not on his side, resolved to draw the sword. Advised by Montrotier, a daring officer, he had a fit of courage, and, closing all the roads, sent out his troops in every direction. It was Saturday, April 2, and market day at Geneva. The market was held ‘without a word said;’ they allowed everybody to go in and out who wished;[220] but about noon a report of the duke’s manœuvre having reached the city, the inhabitants took up arms. The peasants, returning from market, described to the Savoyards, with some exaggeration perhaps, the war preparations made by the Genevans. Immediately the duke’s fit of courage was succeeded by one of fear. Bonivard had expected this, and on hearing that the prince was at the head of an army had shrugged his shoulders. ‘The duke knows as much of war,’ he said, ‘as a monk bred in a convent since he was seven years old.’ This display of ten thousand men, assembled a league from Geneva, these troops sent out in every direction--all ended in a pitiful retractation. M. de Lucinge, appearing before the council, said: ‘His Highness has ordered me to inform you, most honoured lords, that he desires to come and sup with you in a friendly way. If he cannot lodge in the hôtel-de-ville, be so good as to prepare a lodging elsewhere for him, his great suite,[221] and two or three hundred infantry only.... He desires to do violence to nobody.’ The mamelukes proposed that the gates should be opened to the duke immediately, but the syndics replied that they would consult the general council on the morrow. The mameluke councillors, who thought that the duke did Geneva a great honour by coming to it, looked around with astonishment at the answer: their greatest happiness was to approach a prince and pay court to his Highness, and these inflexible huguenots turned their backs upon him. ‘Well,’ said they, ‘if they will not let the duke come to us, we will go to him.’ Accordingly Montyon and several others of his party left the council-room. The court-yard of the hôtel-de-ville was full of citizens waiting to learn the result of the meeting: they saw the mamelukes pass with astonishment. The spectators whispered in each other’s ears: ‘They are going to join the Savoyards.’ ... Presently a loud shout was raised, and several huguenots, catching up some spears that were resting against the wall, ran after the mamelukes to seize them; they were almost overtaken when the councillors, deputed by the syndics, entreated them, for the safety of the city, to avoid a strife between citizens. The angry patriots returned to the hôtel-de-ville. Every one was distressed at knowing that there were among them men capable of forsaking Geneva for the Duke of Savoy.[222]