46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FRANCIS ARAGO. 



An emigre officer of the Bourbon regiment offered at 

 once to make the experiment, and, after some phrases in 

 terchanged between us, affirmed without hesitation that I 

 was French. 



The judge, rendered impatient, exclaimed, &quot;Let us 

 put an end to these trials which decide nothing. I sum 

 mon you, sir, to tell me who you are. I promise that 

 your life will be safe if you answer me with sincerity. 



&quot; My greatest wish would be to give an answer to your 

 satisfaction. I will, then, try to do so ; but I warn you 

 that I am not going to tell you the truth. I am son of 

 the innkeeper at Mataro.&quot; &quot;I know that innkeeper; 

 you are not his son.&quot; &quot; You are right. I announced to 

 you that I should vary my answers until one of them 

 should suit you. I retract then, and tell you that I am a 

 titiretero, (player of marionettes,) and that I practised at 

 Lerida.&quot; 



A loud shout of laughter from the multitude encircling 

 us greeted this answer, and put an end to the questions. 



&quot; I swear by the d 1,&quot; exclaimed the judge, &quot; that I 



will discover sooner or later who you are ! &quot; 



And he retired. 



The Arabs, the Moroccans, the Jews, who witnessed 

 this interrogatory, understood nothing of it ; they had 

 only seen that I had not allowed myself to be intimidated. 

 At the close of the interview they came to kiss my hand, 

 and gave me, from this moment, their entire confidence. 



I became their secretary for all the individual or col 

 lective remonstrances which they thought they had a 

 right to address to the Spanish Government ; and this 

 right was incontestable. Every day I was occupied in 

 drawing up petitions, especially in the name of the two 

 ostrich-feather merchants, one of whom called himself a 



