But there was no relief to Claudine Levet’s sorrow; her husband was still confined in Castle Gaillard, and the governor refused to release him. The council entreated the Bernese deputies in Geneva to intercede in behalf of the prisoner, and on the 4th of September, one of them, accompanied by J. Lullin and C. Savoye, having gone out to Ville-la-Grand, about a league from the city, Aimé Levet was surrendered to them.[406] [Sidenote: Froment And Alexander Arrive.] While this pious man lay in the Gaillard dungeons, the insults heaped upon him, the harshness of the prison, and the almost certain death which threatened him, had given his faith a new life; so that when the castellan had released him from his bonds, he inwardly vowed that he would make his deliverance accelerate the triumph of the Gospel. He had scarcely reached home, when he wrote to Anthony Froment, the evangelist, whose church had been the market-place, and whose pulpit a fishwife’s stall, and conjured him to return. The latter did not hesitate, and knowing that the struggles which awaited him there were beyond the strength of one man, he invited one of the brethren from Paris, and at that time in the Pays de Vaud to accompany him. This was Alexander Canus, called also Dumoulin. One day, therefore, Aimé and Claudine Levet saw the two evangelists arrive. One lodged with them at St. Gervais on the right bank, and the other at Claude Salomon’s, near the Molard, on the left bank; being thus quartered in the two parts into which the city was divided, they could share the labor. Salomon, who shared with Levet the honor and danger of receiving the evangelists, was as gentle as his friend Maisonneuve was quick and often violent. One day, shortly after the bishop’s flight, the latter saw in front of him in the street two of the bishop’s partisans, whom he suspected to be getting up some conspiracy; his blood boiled at the sight, and he exclaimed: ‘there are so many traitors here.... My fingers itch to be at them.’[407] A sense of duty, however, restrained him, and he did nothing. But Salomon was calm and full of charity and compassion: he felt none of these passing ebullitions, and thought only of visiting the sick and the poor, and sheltering strangers whom the Romish persecutions drove to Geneva. ‘These poor refugees,’ he said, ‘are more destitute than all the rest.’ His wife, ‘neither dainty nor nice,’[408] lavished her cares on them. They were the Gaius and Dorcas of Scripture. [Sidenote: Order To Preach The Scriptures.]