The activity of the Genevese was constantly stimulated by the news which reached them from without. ‘The Duke of Savoy,’ said letters from Berne, ‘is collecting an army of brigands, and preparing perpetual troubles for you.’ Towards the end of September, the two Gallatins (John the notary and his son Pierre), having gone to their estate at Peicy for the vintage, were on their return summoned before the Council on a charge of communicating with the people in the castle of Peney, which was half a league distant. The father said that, while he was in the press-house pressing the grapes, Nicod de Prato and other Peneysans had called on him. Did any one ever refuse a visit paid in the press-house? They had taken a glass of wine together, and that was all. ‘As for me,’ said the son, ‘I confess that I went to Peney and drank with the episcopal fugitives there; they told me that ere long we should have a _stout war_; that it would not be a little one like De Mauloz’ night attack on the 31st of July; that they would come in great force, and that I should do well to leave the city. When I returned (continued Pierre) I reported it all to my captain.’ The two Gallatins were immediately discharged without any remark.[643] The first enemy which the bishop loosed against his flock was famine: he gave orders to intercept the provisions all round the city. The market-place was deserted, the stores in the houses were gradually exhausted, and the episcopals flattered themselves that before long none but hungry phantoms would be seen in Geneva, instead of valiant citizens. ‘Oh, insensate shepherd! he robs even his sheep of their food, when he should feed them,’ said one who was among the number confined within the city walls. Unhappy bishop! unhappy Geneva![644] [Sidenote: Geneva Encircled With Iron.]