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with the sovereign dispenser of guardian Spirits, he could obtain nothing from that quarter.
“My dear Maurice,” he added, smiling, “ask for one yourself from Ialdabaoth.”
“No,—no,—no,” exclaimed Maurice. “You have taken away my guardian angel,—give him back to me.”
“Alas! I cannot.”
“Is it, Arcade, because you are a revolutionary that you cannot?”
“Yes.”
“An enemy of God?”
“Yes.”
“A Satanic spirit?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then,” exclaimed young Maurice, “I will be your guardian angel,—I will not leave you.”
And Maurice d’Esparvieu took Arcade to have some oysters at P—’s.
