The family of the Arnaulds were well known in French history as soldiers
or lawyers--sometimes as both, for the grandfather of the child whose
story I am going to tell you commanded a troop of light horse in time of
war, and in time of peace was, in spite of his being a Huguenot--that
is, a Protestant--Catherine's trusted lawyer and adviser. This Antoine
Arnauld, or M. de la Mothe, as he was called, was once publicly insulted
by a noble whose claim to some money Arnauld had been obliged to refuse.

[Illustration: 'You are mistaking me for somebody else.']

'You are mistaking me for somebody else,' answered M. de la Mothe,
quietly.

'What do you mean? I thought you just admitted that you _were_ M. de la
Mothe?' replied the angry nobleman.

'Oh, yes,' said the lawyer, 'so I am; but sometimes I change my long
robe for a short coat, and once outside this court you would not dare to
speak to me in such a manner.'

At this point one of the attendants whispered in his ear that this was
the celebrated soldier, and the nobleman, who seems to have been a
poor-spirited creature, instantly made the humblest apologies.

Many of his relatives remained Huguenots up to the end, but M. de la
Mothe returned to the old religion after the Massacre of St. Bartholomew
in 1572. No man ever had a narrower escape of his life, for his house in
Paris was attacked during the day, and though his servants defended it
bravely, neither he nor his children would have been left alive had
not a messenger wearing the queen's colours been seen pushing through
the crowd. The leaders then called upon the mob to fall back, and the
messenger produced a paper, signed by the queen, giving the family leave
to come and go in safety.

M. de la Mothe's son, Antoine Arnauld, had in him more of the lawyer
than the soldier, and he was clever enough to escape detection for acts
which _we_ should certainly call frauds. But he was an excellent husband
to the wife of thirteen whom he married, and a very affectionate father
to the ten out of his twenty children who lived to grow up.

Monsieur Arnauld was much thought of at the French bar, and was
entrusted with law cases by the court and by the nobles. He was a
pleasant and clever man, and made friends as easily as money, and if he
and his wife had chosen they might have led the same gay life as their
neighbours. But the little bride of thirteen did not care for the balls
and plays in which the fashionable ladies