rolls the torrent of Menoge. At last the old gates were thrown back, they entered the court, and Lévrier was handed over to the governor, who shut him up in a dark cell. As soon as Charles learnt that all had passed off well, he quitted his retreat and returned joyful to his lodging. He was confident that no human power could now deprive him of his victim.[341] During this time the city was in great agitation. Men described with consternation the kidnapping of the heroic defender of Genevese independence, and all good citizens gave vent to their indignation. The deed was an insult to the laws of the state--it was an act of brigandage; and hence two sentiments equally strong--love for Lévrier and respect for right--moved them to their inmost souls. The council assembled immediately. ‘About an hour ago,’ said Syndic La Fontaine, a zealous mameluke, ‘Aimé Lévrier was seized by the duke’s orders, and carried to Plainpalais.’ ‘Yes,’ exclaimed several patriots, ‘the duke is keeping him in the Dominican convent; but we know how to get him out of that den.’ ‘Resolved,’ say the Minutes, ‘to consider what steps are best to be taken under the circumstances.’ When they heard that Lévrier had been carried from Plainpalais to Savoy, the syndics went in a body to the bishop’s vicar, and required him to convene the episcopal council, and to lay before it this unprecedented act of violence. Nobody doubted that the duke would yield to the remonstrances made to him. Gruet promptly summoned the members of the bishop’s council; but these venal men, devoted to the duke, refused to appear. The next day, the syndics made another attempt. ‘Since your colleagues forsake you,’ said they to the vicar-episcopal, ‘go to his Highness yourself, and make him understand that he is trampling under foot both the sovereignty of the bishop and the liberties of the citizens.’ Gruet was timid, and to appear alone before this powerful noble terrified him; he applied to two of his colleagues, De Veigy and Grossi, begging them to accompany him; but they refused. ‘I will not go alone,’ exclaimed the frightened man, ‘no ... not at any price! The duke would kidnap me like Lévrier.’ Charles’s violent proceeding struck terror into all those who enjoyed the privilege of free access to him. Nevertheless Geneva was in danger. If the most respected of its citizens were put to death and no one took up their defence, there would be nothing sacred from the Savoyard tyrant. Lévrier’s death might be the death of the republic. What was to be done? They remembered one person, the bishop of Maurienne, who was both a friend of the city and a friend of the duke. The cold La Fontaine and the impetuous Richardet hastened to him: ‘Save Lévrier, or we are all lost!’ they said. The prelate, who was fond of mediating, and knew very well that he had nothing to fear, immediately waited upon his Highness.[342]