But nothing could move the bishop; he remained insensible as a statue. They next entreated him to leave the state affairs in order; to appoint, during his absence, a vicar, an official, a judge of appeal. Pierre de la Baume refused everything. One only thought filled his mind—he wanted to get away. ‘Alas!’ said the moderate catholics, ‘he does not set the state in order, and as for the church over which he is pastor ... he abandons his flock.’[397] When the syndics had withdrawn, he gave the signal for departure. There was not a moment to lose, he thought; it will soon be broad daylight, and who knows but the magistrates, who set so much upon his presence, may give orders to stop him. Let every man do his duty! Let there not be a minute’s delay! The bishop took care not to leave the palace either by the principal entrance or by the ordinary gates of the city. In the vaults of the building was a passage which led to an unfrequented street—the Rue du Boule, now the Rue de la Fontaine. By following this street, the bishop could reach a secret postern in the wall of the city, which Froment calls _la fausse porte du sel_. Then Pierre de la Baume would be outside of Geneva; then he would be safe. Accordingly the bishop quitted his apartments, descended to the basement of the palace, and made his escape from that edifice (which is now a prison) like a malefactor escaping from his dungeon. His officers were downcast; they would have wished to crush those insolent huguenots, but were obliged to leave them a clear field. The bishop himself, forced to quit his palace and his power, felt great vexation.[398] He looked about him with uneasiness, and trembled lest he should see the huguenots appear at the corner of the street. The encroachments he had made on the liberties of the citizens were not of a nature to tranquillize him, and in his distress he quickened his steps. [Sidenote: The Bishop’s Departure.] The fugitive band reached the secret postern; the prelate had the key; he passed through and stood on the shore of the lake. There was no enemy in sight. He entered a boat which had been got ready for him, and reached the other bank. He sprang immediately upon the horse that was waiting for him, and rode off at a gallop. He felt the weight upon his heart grow lighter the farther he went. Now the fierce huguenots will trouble him no more, and he will ‘make good cheer.’ ‘He retired to the Tower of May,’ says the chronicle, ‘and never returned again.’[399]