Charles the Good--such is the name he bears in the history of Savoy--was plotting the death of this just man. His steward and favourite, the Sieur de Bellegarde, was an enemy of Lévrier’s, and all the more violent because he had long been his friend. The prince and his steward deliberated over the means best calculated to make away with him. At Geneva it seemed impossible; and as a second edition of Berthelier’s death was out of the question, it became necessary to draw Lévrier into some lonely spot, where he might easily be put to death. Bellegarde undertook to carry him off, and the duke ordered him to be brought to the castle of Bonne, where Lévrier had dared to say him _No!_ Bellegarde came to an understanding with some Savoyard gentlemen, and being informed that on Saturday, the 12th of March, the judge would attend mass as usual in the cathedral of St. Pierre, the steward arranged with these infamous courtiers that they should lie in ambush near the church, and seize him as he came out. Everything was prepared for the ambuscade. The person who should have prevented it, and the person who commanded it, both left the city. The cowardly Marquis of St. Sorlin, who, as representative of the bishop, ought to have defended Lévrier, having ‘smelt the wind,’ went out to Rumilly, where he amused himself with some ladies while men were preparing to kill the defender of his brother’s rights. Charles did pretty nearly the same. The appointed day having arrived (it was the eve of the Sunday before Easter 1524), this prince, poor in courage, trembling at the idea of the daring deed about to be attempted, fearing lest the people should rise and come to his residence and demand the just man about to be torn from them, stealthily quitted his apartments in the lower part of the city near the Rhone, ‘went out by a back door,’ crossed the lonely meadows which the Arve bathes with its swift waters, and ‘retired with his family to Our Lady of Grace, pretending that he was going there to hear mass.’ This church being near the bridge of Arve, the duke, in case a riot should break out, would only have to cross the bridge to be in his own territory. Having thus provided for his own safety, he waited in great agitation for the news of his victim.