These various measures could not be taken without something creeping out. Geneva had friends in the villages, where an unusual agitation indicated the approaching execution of some act of treachery. On Thursday, the 11th of July, a man, making his way along by-paths, arrived from Savoy, and said to the people of Geneva: 'Be on your guard!' Two days later, Saturday the 13th, which was the day appointed for action, another man, crossing the bridge of Arve, came and told one of the syndics, between eight and nine in the morning, that some horse and foot soldiers had been secretly posted at Lancy, only half a league from the city. The syndics did not trouble themselves much about it; and the bishop, who was naturally a timid man, but whom these warnings had not reached, mounted his mule—it was the day when he went to make adoration to the Virgin—rode out to Our Lady's, took his usual place, and the mass began. Charles's soldiers were already advancing in the direction of the bridge, in order to seize the prelate directly he left the church. Some devout persons had pity on him, and just as the priest had celebrated the mystery, a man, with troubled look, entered the building (whether he came from Geneva or Savoy is unknown), walked noiselessly to the place where the bishop was sitting, and whispered in his ear: 'Monseigneur, the archers of Savoy are preparing to clutch you (_gripper_).' At these words the startled La Baume turned pale and trembled. He did not wait for the benediction; fear gave him wings; he got up, rushed hastily out of the church, and leaped upon his mule 'without putting his foot in the stirrup, for he was a very nimble person,' says Bonivard; then, using his heels for spurs, he struck the animal's flanks, and galloped off full speed, shouting, at the top of his voice, to the guards as he passed: 'Shut the gates!' The prelate reached the city out of breath and all of a tremble.[735] The city was soon in commotion. Besançon Hugues, the captain-general, who was sincerely attached to La Baume, and strongly opposed to the usurpations of Savoy, had divined the duke's plot, and, with his usual energy, began to pass through the streets, saying: 'Close your shops, put up the chains, bolt the city gates, beat the drum, sound an alarm, and let every man take his arquebuse.' Then, leaving the streets, Hugues went to St. Pierre's, and, notwithstanding the opposition of the canons, accomplices in the conspiracy, he ordered the great bell to be rung. A rumour had already spread on the other side of the Arve that the plot had failed, and that the bishop had escaped on his mule. The men-at-arms of Savoy were disconcerted; the village bells were not rung, the nobles remained in their castles, the peasants in their fields. 'Our scheme has got wind,' said the Savoyard captains; 'all the city is under arms; and we must wait for a better opportunity.'