The most terrified were the clerics and the mamelukes who had been present at the meeting at Canon de Lutry’s. They had taken good care not to stop after the alarm that had been given them, and when the order was made by sound of trumpet for every man to retire to his own house, they had hastened to escape in disguise, trembling and hopeless. The next morning the city watch, followed by the sergeants, forcibly entered De Lutry’s house, and seized the arms, which had been carefully hidden; but they found the nest empty, for all the birds had flown. ‘If they had not escaped,’ said Syndic Balard, ‘they would have been in danger of death.’ The canons who had not taken flight sent two of their number to the hôtel-de-ville to say to the syndics: ‘Will you keep us safe and sure in the city? if not, will you give us a safe-conduct, that we may leave it?’ They thought only of following their colleagues. The flight of the 26th of February was the counterpart of that of the 15th of September. In September the new times had disappeared in Geneva for a few weeks only; in February the old times were departing for ever. The Genevese rejoiced as they saw these leeches disappear, who had bled them so long, even to the very marrow. ‘The priests and the Savoyards,’ they said, ‘are like wolves driven from the woods by hunger: there is nothing left for them to take, and they are compelled to go elsewhere for their prey.’ Nothing could be more favourable to the Swiss alliance and to liberty than this general flight. The partisans of the duke and of the bishop having evacuated the city, the senate and the people remained masters. The grateful citizens ascribed all the glory to God, and exclaimed: ‘The sovereignty is now in the hands of the council, without the interference of either magistrates or people. _Everything was done by the grace of God._’[410]