Path of the Tiger, стр. 419

one that sparked a conflagration of rage inside him. He gripped his cane tightly and strode inside, his green eyes aflame with a burning wrath. He peered into each of the stalls, his wrath intensifying steadily as he went. Finally, he reached the stall at the end, and therein lay his jockey, sprawled out on a bundle of hay, his dirty shirt lying open. The jockey’s head, with its unkempt mane of blonde hair and its thick beard that obscured the bottom half of the otherwise-handsome face, was lolling about atop his grimy neck as he exhaled a lungful of opium smoke.

Kelly darted into the stall and snatched the long opium pipe out of the man’s hands, and then glared at him with rage-quivering fists for a few tense moments. The man looked up at him with eyes that were glazed over with opiate-induced indifference, and his mouth curved into an oblivious smile of ecstasy.

‘Don’t you smile at me, you worthless beggar!’ Kelly spat, his powder-keg temper now ignited. ‘What in tarnation are you doing, smoking this before a race?!’

‘I … I … just…’ the man mumbled, a trickle of drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

‘You just what?! I don’t pay you to chase the dragon before races, you dang idiot! You know what I’m startin’ to think? I’m startin’ to think you’re ungrateful. Yes, that’s right, that you’re ungrateful for everything I’ve done for you!’

‘I’m … not … ungrateful … master…’

Kelly tapped his cane impatiently on the ground as he shook his head and glared at the man.

‘Yes, yes you are,’ he hissed venomously. ‘Why, you’re purely and simply selfish and ungrateful! You’ve already forgotten who paid your debt to that Arab captain who was going to take your horse from you, because you’d lied about having money in India to pay for passage on his ship. Do you remember that, you ingrate? You’d be a penniless beggar with not even a rag on your back to your name, eking out a wretched existence with all the other cripples and filth on the streets of Calcutta had I not taken you under my wing with such magnanimous generosity! Yet this is how you repay the many kindnesses I’ve done you?!’

‘I’m … sorry … master…’ the unkempt addict croaked.

Kelly raised his cane above his head as if to strike him, and the man cowered and trembled in anticipation of the blow, which did not arrive as Kelly abruptly appeared to change his mind, after which he lowered the makeshift weapon.

‘You’re not sorry,’ Kelly growled. ‘You’re just saying that, I do believe, saying that to try save your dang hide. Well I don’t buy it, no sir, I do not buy it at all. I don’t buy what you’re selling me, y’hear? Why, I ought to keep your dang horse and that fancy sword for myself – not that either of those two items will come close to paying even a fraction of the debt you owe me, with the interest I’ve been forced to charge you – and then after I’ve taken ‘em, I’ll throw you out onto the streets! That’s what a selfish ingrate like you deserves!’

‘Please master … give me … one more … chance…’

Tears began to roll down the man’s grubby cheeks, and his visage folded into an expression of utter despondency.

Kelly turned away from the pathetic spectacle and grinned to himself, once again having to suppress the giggles that were threatening to burst from his crooked-toothed mouth. He ran his fingers through his mop of curly blonde hair, made sure his mask of anger was firmly in place, and then turned back to face the weeping jockey.

‘I’m a kind man,’ he declared, ‘yes, a soft-hearted fellow. Indeed, it’s my greatest weakness, I do say. Any reasonable man would have thrown you to the wolves long ago, but as for me, alas, I cannot change my nature. As much as you continue to hurt me with these selfish things you do, I somehow always find it in myself to forgive you. You know, however, that I will be forced to increase the interest on the debt you owe me yet again, do you not? You know that I don’t want to do this … but you understand why I have to do it, don’t you? It’s for your benefit, see? It’s to help you. D’you understand that? You do understand, I know you do. All I want is to help you … yet you keep hurtin’ me so. But once again, as always, I will forgive your selfishness and cruelty, and pray that you will see the light.’

‘Th-, th-, thank you … master,’ the man stammered through his tears. ‘Th-, th-, thank you…’

‘I am too kind to you, I think. Yes, far too kind. My soft heart will one day be my undoing, but I simply can’t help myself.’

‘Yes master … you are … very kind…’

‘Indeed. Now, are you going to smoke opium before a race again?’

The man shook his head, his countenance now a flawless picture of earnestness and resolve.

‘No … master … Never again…’

Kelly smiled and nodded, curling his fingers tight around the gleaming tip of his cane.

‘Good. I’m glad you at least show some repentance for your stupid and inconsiderate behaviour … not that that excuses what you’ve done, mind you. Anyway, come on, give me whatever opium you’ve managed to conceal on your person. Give it up, you hopeless wreck! You know I ration it to you for your own benefit, yet you still choose to try and sneak more doses in behind my back! Oh, the ways in which hurt me so, I say, I say, I say! Move it now, hand it over and get yourself onto your horse. This is a race I cannot afford to lose, you hear me? Do you understand?’

The man nodded, his eyes teary and his bottom lip quivering as he handed over the small stash of the drug he had hidden in