THE CAPTURE OF RAPHAEL
Raphael walked down the hill toward the city of the Sorcerer, and came
shortly to a macadam road which he followed cautiously, ready to hide
if anything should pass. He had not gone far when a truck clattered
by with two strange creatures on the driving seat. They were not men,
though curiously like them in figure.
They were tall, and were dressed in dark gray jumpers. Their hands
were covered with what appeared to be black gloves, and their feet
were cased in metal shoes. But the heads of these creatures astonished
Raphael most: the faces were gray with two glassy eyes set under round
projecting foreheads, the noses were thick and short, the chins dropped
away rapidly below the mouth. They appeared to have no ears, but each
wore a matting of rope hair. These evidently were the servants of the
Sorcerer.
Raphael tried to hide as the truck lumbered by, but the creatures
drove past without looking at him. This encouraged the boy and he
walked more boldly. Gæa would look after him.
On each side of the highway rose large billboards shutting out the view
of the plain. _Welcome to Mechana_, stood out in large letters beside
the portrait of a mechanical man, and there were others: _Mechanicos
Drink Mozzo Oil, the Health Fluid. Keeps Out Rust, the Enemy of Long
Life._ While a few bore the more terrifying legend, _Does the Repair
Shop Frighten You? Use U-Kant-Beat-It on the Joints._ Below this the
following letter was painted in red, ‘_I have used U-Kant-Beat-It for
ten years and can still kiss my big toe._’ It was signed _Mechanus, the
Giant Sorcerer_.
Why, thought Raphael, this is just like Uniontown.
He was entering the city now where there were sidewalks. Tall buildings
rose on each side casting their shadows over the thoroughfare which
teemed with automobiles and heavy trucks. Mechanical men passed him in
a steady stream. If they only knew that I had come to destroy them,
they might look at me, mused the boy.
He began to grow confused. Streets ran every which-way. The tall
skyscrapers shut out the afternoon sun. It must be late, thought
Raphael. I wonder where I am? He could ask no one. Probably no one
would understand him.
Raphael was worried and walked faster. Turning a corner suddenly, he
nearly bumped into four mechanical men who were blocking the sidewalk.
One of them was much larger than the others. Raphael gasped, went pale,
and half turned to run. Before him stood the creature that had stolen
Cassandra--the Giant Sorcerer.
‘Hello, there,’ called the Sorcerer. ‘Don’t run. It won’t do any good.
I’ve been waiting for you the last ten minutes. Come here, I won’t hurt
you.’
To gain time Raphael asked rather weakly, ‘Are you the Giant Sorcerer?’
‘Yes,’ said the Sorcerer easily. ‘Mechanus is my name. These are my
mechanicos.’ And he motioned to the other three.
‘Where,’ faltered Raphael, ‘is Cassie?’ He passed his tongue over his
dry lips.
‘So you want to see Cassandra, eh?’ remarked the Sorcerer. ‘She is safe
enough. You may go,’ he said, turning to his three mechanicos. ‘I don’t
think Raphael will be so foolish as to try to escape.’
Cassandra is safe, thought Raphael. He could fly. He was about to run
and jump as high as he could in the air when he heard the thrum of a
motor overhead. Above him floated a cigar-shaped balloon around which
an aeroplane flew in graceful circles. There would be no use in trying
to escape by flight.
Well, thought Raphael, I shall go home with him and find out where
Cassandra is hidden. The Sorcerer evidently did not mean to harm him.
Raphael began to take heart.
‘Promise me that you won’t try to escape,’ said the Sorcerer. ‘I don’t
want to tie you.’
‘I promise I won’t try to escape now,’ answered Raphael.
The Sorcerer beckoned to a white limousine driven by a mechanico which
stood at the curb.
‘The Tower,’ said Mechanus when he and Raphael, aided by the footman,
had climbed in.
With a shriek of the horn, the white car made off like a wild thing.
It rocked over the city streets, skimming through the traffic. As they
flew along, lines of great trucks stopped for them, mechanicos dove out
of their path, while mechanical police waved them on.
Raphael sat silent, terrified at the frightful speed.
‘Well, my boy,’ said the Sorcerer genially, ‘how do you like it?’
‘I hate it,’ said Raphael bitterly.
‘This is civilization,’ was the Sorcerer’s only comment.
‘Wait until I show you the town,’ he went on after a pause. ‘It is a
beautiful sight. Avenues any city might be proud of, no waste, no silly
parks cluttering up the place. I detest inefficiency.’
‘Why do you drive so fast?’ asked Raphael sullenly as they skidded
round a corner.
‘To save time, of course. Time is money. Money is success. That is why
we are successful.’
‘Then I don’t want to be successful,’ said Raphael.
‘Pshaw. Nerves. You suffer from nerves. Now my mechanicos have no
nerves. It is one of my great inventions.’
‘Why did you steal Cassandra?’ asked Raphael suddenly.
‘Why did I steal Cassandra? Because I wanted a daughter, a human child
to live with me.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Raphael rudely. ‘I don’t believe you ever
wanted a daughter.’
Soon after this they stopped in front of a high wall with a gate of
bronze. The Sorcerer got out and Raphael followed him. Spinning a dial
set in one of the bronze panels, the Sorcerer opened the door and
nodded to Raphael to enter.
‘I change the combination every day,’ he said dryly. ‘I shouldn’t
bother to learn it, if I were you.’
They passed through the gate into the brightest garden Raphael had ever
seen. Millions of flowers grew in great beds, laid out in squares. The
walks were broad and made of asphalt. In the distance the boy could
make out a little pond. Overshadowing this garden of red and yellow and
green, Raphael saw a huge round tower of gray brick.
‘This is where I live,’ said the Sorcerer. ‘Cassandra lives with me.’
‘Is Cassie here?’ asked Raphael eagerly.
‘Oh, Cassandra,’ called the Sorcerer.
At his summons a little girl dressed in white walked slowly from the
other side of a large bush in one corner of the garden.
‘Yes,’ she said listlessly. ‘What do you want?’
‘Cassandra, your brother Raphael is here.’
‘Cassie!’ shouted Raphael, running toward her.
The little girl raised her eyes slowly. ‘Hello, Raphael,’ she said
dully.
Raphael stopped as though he had been struck.
‘Cassie!’ was all he could say. ‘Cassie, what’s the matter?’
‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’
Raphael was puzzled. There was something wrong.
‘Well, children,’ said Mechanus, ‘it must be nearly supper-time. Show
Raphael to his room, Cassandra.’
Cassandra led the way through the stone-flagged hall of the tower to an
elevator. They stepped in, and Cassandra pushed a button. The elevator
rose swiftly.
‘Aren’t you well, Cassie?’ whispered Raphael. ‘You look sort of pale.’
‘Oh, I’m all right,’ said Cassandra. ‘Here’s our room.’
But Raphael wasn’t satisfied.
The elevator stopped with a jerk, and Cassandra opened the door.
It was a room full of light. Around the pale yellow walls ran a band of
pictures representing fire engines, and trucks, and steam shovels, and
automobiles.
Raphael went to the western window and looked out. The tower overlooked
the garden and beyond that Raphael could see the river winding under
distant pine bluffs. He was a captive.
Several knocks shook at the door, and a mechanico entered bearing a
suit of clothes.
‘The Master wishes you to change, Mr. Raphael,’ said the mechanico.
‘I won’t,’ said Raphael. ‘I prefer my feather suit.’
‘The Master said he wanted no magic nonsense. You must change, Mr.
Raphael.’
So the Sorcerer would take away his suit. Would the power of Gæa go
with it? Raphael was afraid of this.
‘I won’t,’ he repeated stubbornly.
‘Sorry, Sir,’ replied the mechanico politely. And then before Raphael
could scream or cry out, he was seized and his feather suit stripped
from him. He burst into angry tears.
‘Let my brother alone,’ spoke up Cassandra sharply and flew at the
mechanico. But he was gone, and the door shut behind him. Raphael,
angry though he was, noticed that his sister’s eyes were brighter and
that her cheeks were touched with pink.
The boy, trembling with rage, put on the clothes the Sorcerer had given
him.
Just then a bell rang.
‘What is that?’ he asked.
‘Supper,’ said Cassandra.
‘I won’t go. I don’t want anything to eat,’ stormed the boy.
‘Come on, Raff, dear,’ urged Cassandra. ‘To please me.’
‘Why should I please you? You weren’t glad to see me a bit,’ said
Raphael bitterly.
‘Oh, Raff,’ wailed Cassandra, flinging her arms round Raphael’s neck.
‘I’m so sorry. I was glad to see you. But--but I feel as if I had just
waked up.’
Ten minutes later they went down to the dining-room. Two places were
set, one on either side of the table.
‘Children,’ said Mechanus, ‘you are ten minutes late.’
The children said nothing, but sat down.
‘I’ve had this porridge cooked especially for you,’ said the Sorcerer
proudly. ‘We mechanicos use only one type of fuel.’
The Sorcerer sat down between them.
While Raphael and Cassandra ate their supper out of silver porridge
bowls, the Sorcerer was brought a large golden tankard. Throwing back
his head he poured at least a gallon of brown fluid down his throat.
‘What is that?’ asked Raphael, forgetting his anger in his curiosity.
‘That, my boy,’ said the Sorcerer, ‘is mineral oil. It is all we
mechanicos need in the way of food and quite easy to take.’
[Illustration]