All the citizens were afoot: the guards at the gates, the cannon on the walls, the watch day and night in the streets. At ten o’clock Marti arrived, and went straight to the council, whose sittings were declared permanent. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he to the syndics, ‘I think you must trust the duke and let him enter the city.’--‘And the assistance of Friburg?’ asked some; to which Marti replied: ‘My lords are far away!’[228] He seemed to have lost all hope. He added, however: ‘There is a truce until to-morrow morning.’ It was agreed to convene the Great Council the next morning before daybreak in order to deliberate on the course to be taken in this terrible crisis; and as the citizens had been on foot for three nights, they were permitted in consideration of the truce to go and take some repose. It was then eleven o’clock. It struck twelve. No sound was heard but the measured steps of the sentinels; a dark night covered the city with its curtain, and all were asleep. Suddenly the flash of a torch gleamed from the top of one of the three towers of St. Pierre; it was the signal agreed upon between Cartelier and the duke at the nocturnal conference held under the tree in the Falcon orchard: that flash announced that the Swiss could enter without resistance. The noise of horses was heard almost immediately without the city, in the direction of St. Antoine, and a loud blow was struck on the gate. It was Philip, count of Genevois, the duke’s brother, at the head of his cavalry: having knocked, he waited for the mamelukes to open according to their promise. But the sentry at the St. Antoine gate, who had seen the torch and heard the knock, suspecting treachery, fired his arquebus and gave the alarm. Immediately the tocsin sounded; the citizens awoke, grasped their arms, and hurried in the direction of the attack. ‘All were much frightened and vexed, and great uproar was made in the city.’ Everybody was running about shouting and ordering. The count, who was listening, began to fear that the plot had failed. In the midst of the confusion, a clap of thunder was heard, which terrified both sides. The count and his followers hesitated no longer, but retired; the Genevans did the same, and a few angry patriots, as they passed Marti’s house on their way home, went in and asked him angrily: ‘Is this the fine truce you brought us?’[229]