Meanwhile the city was going to ruin: there was no money to pay the soldiers. What was to be done? In many old houses Genevan coins were found, bearing the sun as a symbol with this device—_Post tenebras spero lucem_.[678] These pieces proved that the city of Geneva had once possessed the right of coining money—a right of which the prince-bishops had deprived her. Claude Savoye received instructions to issue a new coinage, and was forthwith supplied with silver crosses, chalices, patens, and other sacred utensils. The coins he struck bore on one side the key and eagle (the arms of Geneva), with the legend, _Deus noster pugnat pro nobis_, 1535, 'Our God fighteth for us;' and on the reverse, _Geneva civitas_. The following year another coinage was issued which, in addition to the ordinary device, _Post tenebras lucem_, bore these words of Isaiah and St. Paul, _Mihi sese flectet omne genu_, 'Unto me every knee shall bow,' the monogram of Jesus, I. H. S., being in the centre. Geneva did not believe in its own victory only, but in the victory of God, whose glory, hidden until then, would be magnified among all nations. [Sidenote: CONFERENCE AT AOSTA.] While Francis I. was stealthily aiding Geneva, the powerful republic of Berne was negotiating in its favor. Some of its statesmen crossed the Saint-Bernard on their way to the town of Aosta, where the duke of Savoy was to meet them. Berthold Haller, the reformer, and the other Bernese pastors, had gone in a body to the council and conjured them to make an appeal to the people for the deliverance of Geneva. 'They are ready,' said the ministers, 'to sacrifice their goods and their lives to uphold the Reformation in that city.' The lords of Berne, desirous of taking at least one step, sent a deputation to the duke, and commissioned their general, Francis Nägueli, who was at its head, to support the cause of Geneva. Son of one of the most distinguished chiefs of the Swiss bands, Francis had grown up in the camp, and like Wildermuth, had made his first campaign in the wars of Italy in 1511. 'He was a man at twenty,' people said. His features bronzed by a southern sun presented a mixture of energy, acuteness, and antique grandeur, and the Christian piety by which he was animated imparted to them a great charm.[679] P. d'Erlach, Rodolph of Diesbach, and the chancellor P. Zyro accompanied him. Crossing the mountains with difficulty—it was in the latter half of November—and braving rain, cold, and snow,[680] the ambassadors arrived at last at the city of Aosta. The duke was not there; they were invited to push on to Turin, but the lords of Berne replied that they would wait for the duke at the foot of the glaciers. The Bernese and their suite took advantage of this delay to enter into conversation with the inhabitants, and spoke to them fearlessly of Holy Scripture and the usurpations of the Roman bishop.