When the syndic saw this, he lost all hope. The duke of Savoy invited the sisters to take refuge in his states, making them fine promises. 'Fair ladies,' said the magistrate, 'name the day you wish to depart.'—'To-morrow,' said the mother-superior, 'to-morrow, at daybreak.'—'Fair ladies,' resumed the syndic, 'pack up your goods.'[600] Early next morning the syndics arrived, when the sisters, after singing a _De Profundis_, put their breviaries under their arm, and drew up in two ranks. The mother-vicar placed the young sisters, who might have any longing to quit the veil, by the side of some sturdy nuns who could detain them. A great crowd had assembled before the convent and in the streets. Seeing this, many of the nuns 'shrank back with fear,' but the courageous superior said, with animation: 'Cheer up, my sisters, make the sign of the cross, and keep our Lord in your hearts.' They stepped forward. This procession of veiled and silent women represented Roman-catholicism leaving Geneva. Sobs were heard here and there. Three hundred archers marched in front, behind, and at the side of the nuns, to protect them. 'If any one moves,' said the syndic to the spectators, 'he shall lose his head.' The crowd looked on silently as the sisters passed along.[601] When the procession arrived at the Arve bridge, where the territory of the city ceased, the nuns, who had imagined they would find the duke and his court waiting at the frontiers of his states to receive them with great honor, could see nobody. A poor monk alone appeared, bringing a wretched wagon, in order to carry the old and sick.[602] The rain and the muddy roads delayed their progress. The poor nuns, who knew nothing but their convent, were startled at everything. Seeing a few sheep grazing in a meadow, they screamed aloud, taking them (says one of the sisters) for _ravening wolves_. A little farther on, some cows which were in the fields, attracted by this troop passing along, stretched out their heads towards the road, and lowed. The nuns imagined they were _hungry bears_, and had not even strength to run away. At nightfall they reached St. Julien, having taken fifteen hours to go a short league. The next day they entered Annecy, where the duke gave them the monastery of the Holy Cross. All the bells of the city rang at their arrival. Here the poor nuns found some repose; but they did not forget the judgment of God that had banished them from Geneva, and did not hide the cause of their misfortunes. 'Ah!' said Sister Jeanne de Jussie, 'the prelates and churchmen did not observe their vows at this time, but squandered dissolutely the ecclesiastical property, keeping women in adultery and lubricity, and _awakening the anger of God_, which brought divine punishment on them.'[603]