The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [70]
“The door had been closed and the cage pushed aside, but I observed it closely and I can assure you—”
“Oh, good Gad!” Emerson looked at me in consternation. “Peabody! Your own innocent child…You don’t suspect…Ramses could not possibly have carried off that heavy mummy case. Besides, he has better taste than to steal something like that.”
“I have long since given up trying to anticipate what Ramses can and cannot do,” I replied, with considerable heat. “Your second point has some merit; but Ramses’ motives are as obscure as his capabilities are remarkable. I never know what the devil the child has in mind.”
“Language, Peabody, language.”
I took a grip on myself. “You are right. Thank you for reminding me, Emerson.”
“You are quite welcome, Peabody.”
He took up his reins and we went on in pensive silence. Then Emerson said uneasily, “Where do you suppose he has put it?”
“What, the mummy case?”
“No, curse it. The lion cub.”
“We will soon find out.”
“You don’t believe he was involved in the other theft, do you, Amelia?” Emerson’s voice was piteous.
“No, of course not. I know the identity of the thief. As soon as I have dealt with Ramses I will take him into custody.”
Seven
The lion cub was in Ramses’ room. Ramses was sitting on the floor teasing it with a nasty-looking bit of raw meat when we burst in. He looked up with a frown and said reproachfully, “You did not knock, Mama and Papa. You know dat my privacy is important to me.”
“What would you have done if we had knocked?” Emerson asked.
“I would have put de lion under de bed,” said Ramses.
“But how could you possibly suppose—” Emerson began. I joggled him with my elbow. “Emerson, you are letting Ramses get you off the track again. He always does it and you always succumb. Ramses.”
“Yes, Mama?” The cub rolled itself into a furry ball around his fist.
“I told you not to…” But there I was forced to stop to reconsider. I had not told Ramses he must not steal the baroness’s lion. He waited politely for me to finish, and I said weakly, “I told you not to wander off alone.”
“But I did not, Mama. Selim went wit’ me. He carried de lion cub. My donkey would not let me take it up wit’ me.”
I had seen Selim that morning, but now that I thought about it I realized he had been careful to let me see only his back. No doubt his face and hands bore evidence of the cub’s reluctance to be carried.
I squatted down on the floor to examine the animal more closely. It certainly appeared to be in good health and spirits. In a purely investigative manner, to check the condition of its fur, I tickled the back of its head.
“I am training it to hunt for itself,” Ramses explained, dragging the loathsome morsel across the cub’s rounded stomach. Apparently it had had enough to eat, for it ignored the meat and began licking my fingers.
“What are you going to do with it?” Emerson inquired, sitting down on the floor. The cub transferred its attentions to his fingers, and he chuckled. “It’s an engaging little creature.”
“All small creatures are engaging,” I replied coldly. The cub climbed onto my lap and nuzzled into my skirt. “But one day this small creature will be big enough to swallow you in two bites, Ramses. No, lion, I am not your mother. There is nothing for you there. You had better find it some milk, Ramses.”
“Yes, Mama, I will. T’ank you, Mama, I had not t’ought of dat.”
“And don’t try your tricks with me, Ramses. I am not susceptible to charming young animals of any species. I am really disappointed in you. I had hoped you possessed a greater sense of responsibility. You have taken this helpless creature…” The cub, frustrated in its quest for sustenance, sank its sharp little teeth into the upper portion of my leg, and I broke off with a yelp. Emerson removed it and began playing with it while I continued, “…this helpless creature into your charge, and you are incapable of giving it the care it requires. I fondly hope you do not entertain any notion that you can persuade your father and me to take it home with us.”
“Oh no, Mama,” said Ramses,