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    The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)
    The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)
    The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)
    Ebook213 pages2 hours

    The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)

    By Max Brand

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    This eBook features the unabridged text of ‘The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)’ from the bestselling edition of ‘The Collected Works of Max Brand’.



    Having established their name as the leading publisher of classic literature and art, Delphi Classics produce publications that are individually crafted with superior formatting, while introducing many rare texts for the first time in digital print. The Delphi Classics edition of Brand includes original annotations and illustrations relating to the life and works of the author, as well as individual tables of contents, allowing you to navigate eBooks quickly and easily.

    eBook features:
    * The complete unabridged text of ‘The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)’
    * Beautifully illustrated with images related to Brand’s works
    * Individual contents table, allowing easy navigation around the eBook
    * Excellent formatting of the textPlease visit www.delphiclassics.com to learn more about our wide range of titles

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDelphi Classics (Parts Edition)
    Release dateJul 17, 2017
    ISBN9781788779456
    The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)
    Author

    Max Brand

    Max Brand® (1892–1944) is the best-known pen name of widely acclaimed author Frederick Faust, creator of Destry, Dr. Kildare, and other beloved fictional characters. Orphaned at an early age, he studied at the University of California, Berkeley. He became one of the most prolific writers of our time but abandoned writing at age fifty-one to become a war correspondent in World War II, where he was killed while serving in Italy.

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      The Storm by Max Brand - Delphi Classics (Illustrated) - Max Brand

      VOLUMES

      Parts Edition Contents

      The Dan Barry Series

      1, The Untamed

      2, The Night Horseman

      3, The Seventh Man

      4, Dan Barry’s Daughter

      The Ronicky Doone Trilogy

      5, Ronicky Doone

      6, Ronicky Doone’s Treasures

      7, Ronicky Doone’s Rewards

      The Silvertip Series

      8, Silvertip

      9, The Man from Mustang

      10, Silvertip’s Strike

      11, Silvertip’s Roundup

      12, Silvertip’s Trap

      13, Silvertip’s Chase

      14, Silvertip’s Search

      15, The Stolen Stallion

      16, Valley Thieves

      17, Mountain Riders

      18, The Valley of Vanishing Men

      19, The False Rider

      The Dr. Kildare Series

      20, Internes Can’t Take Money

      21, Whiskey Sour

      22, Young Doctor Kildare

      23, Calling Dr. Kildare

      24, The Secret of Dr. Kildare

      25, Dr. Kildare’s Girl and Dr. Kildare’s Hardest Case

      26, Dr. Kildare Goes Home

      27, Dr. Kildare’s Crisis

      28, The People vs. Dr. Kildare

      Tizzo the Firebrand Series

      29, The Firebrand

      30, The Great Betrayal

      31, The Storm

      32, The Cat and the Perfume

      33, Claws of the Tigress

      34, The Bait and the Trap

      35, The Pearls of Bonfadini

      Other Novels

      36, Above the Law

      37, Harrigan!

      38, Riders of the Silences

      39, Trailin’!

      40, The Man Who Forgot Christmas

      41, Black Jack

      42, Bull Hunter

      43, Donnegan

      44, The Long, Long Trail

      45, Sheriff Larrabee’s Prisoner

      46, A Shower of Silver

      47, Way of the Lawless

      48, Alcatraz

      49, The Rangeland Avenger

      50, The Garden of Eden

      51, Wild Freedom

      52, His Name His Fortune

      53, Outlaw Breed

      54, The Quest of Lee Garrison

      55, Rodeo Ranch

      56, Soft Metal

      57, Sunset Wins

      58, The Tenderfoot

      59, The Whispering Outlaw

      60, The Black Rider

      61, Acres of Unrest

      62, Werewolf

      63, Thunder Moon

      64, The Mountain Fugitive

      65, The Mustang Herder

      66, The Sheriff Rides

      67, King of the Range

      68, Marbleface

      69, Sixteen in Nome

      70, The Hair-Trigger Kid

      71, The Lightning Warrior

      72, Gunman’s Gold

      73, The King Bird Rides

      74, The Red Bandanna

      75, Red Devil of the Range

      The Short Stories

      76, Miscellaneous Stories

      www.delphiclassics.com

      Browse our Main Series

      Browse our Ancient Classics

      Browse our Poets

      Browse our Art eBooks

      Browse our Classical Music series

      The Storm

      CONTENTS

      CHAPTER I.

      CHAPTER II.

      CHAPTER III.

      CHAPTER IV.

      CHAPTER V.

      CHAPTER VI.

      CHAPTER VII.

      CHAPTER VIII.

      CHAPTER IX.

      CHAPTER X.

      CHAPTER XI.

      CHAPTER XII.

      CHAPTER XIII.

      CHAPTER XIV.

      CHAPTER XV.

      CHAPTER XVI.

      CHAPTER XVII.

      CHAPTER XVIII.

      CHAPTER XIX.

      CHAPTER XX.

      CHAPTER XXI.

      The magazine in which the novel first appeared in April 1935

      The Storm

      By GEORGE CHALLIS

      Author of The Great Betrayal, The Firebrand, etc

      CHAPTER I.

      TIZZO DECIDES.

      THE HOSE ON his right leg was orange; on his left leg it was green. His doublet was a puff of yellow and through the slashed sleeves of it appeared the crimson of an undertunic. He wore, not for warmth since the day was mid-summer, but merely from the excess of vanity and fashion, a short cloak which tumbled down from his shoulders and washed about from side to side behind them. And on his head, tilted a shade to an angle, there was a small round hat which was looped about by a fine golden chain.

      As though this flare of colors were not enough to attract the eye, his hair was flame-red and glistened in the slant of the afternoon sun. He rode swiftly through the camp of Giovan Paolo and, coming to the tent of the commander, which was distinguished by the long pennon which flew from the peak, he slipped out of the saddle and threw the reins towards one of the men-at-arms who stood guard at the entrance.

      The man was struck by the flying leather and allowed the strips to fall.

      Hold the horse, my friend, said the young fellow in the brilliant clothes. Announce to Giovan Paolo that Tizzo is entering.

      Go ask the devil to announce you! said the guard who had been flicked by the reins.

      One of the gentry who lolled under the adjoining olive tree broke into a loud laughter and sat up to watch the brawl.

      The guard added: His Highness, Giovan Paolo, is not to be disturbed. the man-at-arms tumbled flat on his back while Tizzo disappeared suddenly through the tent entrance. The guard, leaping to his feet, started to rush inside in pursuit, but his companion checked him.

      You’ve made a fool of yourself already, said the companion. But if you break in on them now, you’ll be damned for your folly.

      What do you mean? asked the first man.

      Why, if you wore ears in your head you ought to have recognized the name. Tizzo is the brightness of which Giovan Paolo is the shadow; he is the warmth in Giovan Paolo’s blood, the light in his eyes, the strength of his right hand. Tizzo, fool, is the man who saved the life of Giovan Paolo on the night of the Great Betrayal and got both him and the Lady Beatrice safely out of the city when men were running about like bloodhounds, lapping up the lives of the Baglioni.

      You could have told me what he was, growled the big guard.

      You asked no questions, said the other. You brought some of your Swiss cheese with you from the Alps, but you left your wits behind you. And this is Italy, man, where brains are better than sword-blades.

      Tizzo? Tizzo? said the man. Now I think that I recall the name.

      Pick up the reins of his horse and hold them, then, said the other man-at-arms, and the name may be willing to recall you.

      INSIDE the tent, Tizzo saw Giovan Paolo striding up and down, his head a little bent towards the depth of his thought. On the table lay a map. Pieces of armor were stacked on a folding chair. The whole tent was filled with confusion.

      Why not? asked Tizzo, walking straight towards the two guards. Compared with their armor-sheathed bulks he seemed very slender and boyish. The sword at his side appeared to be a foolish vaunt. Is Giovan Paolo sleeping because he’s had too much to drink? If he is, I’ll wake him up. Announce me!

      Announce you? said the guard who had spoken before. Your name may be Firebrand, but you give me no warmth. I’m hot enough in the sun without having a fire at hand. Sit down on your heels and wait for the time of His Highness.

      There was another loud laugh from the nobleman who lounged under the tree, and who now stood up as though expecting something further to happen.

      He said, Here’s a check for Tizzo, at last.

      One of his companions answered: I wager three ducats to one that he gets into the tent.

      The guard will see him damned first, said the first man.

      The guard will be damned himself if he tries to bar the way, said the other. I put money on Tizzo. Young Tizzo, at this moment, stepped straight to the angry guard and said: Give me your name so that I can remember you.

      I give my name to my equals, said the guard, not to wild-headed young forget-me-nots like you.

      Nevertheless, I’ll shake hands with you, said Tizzo.

      He caught the big, brown hand of the fighting man as he spoke. The latter tried to wrench his sword-arm free but the effort merely served to jerk Tizzo towards the entrance of the tent. Perhaps he tripped the guard as he passed. It was hard to tell exactly what happened, but the fact was that Ah, Tizzo, said Giovan Paolo, hardly turning his fine head towards the interloper, what is it now? More brawling? More tavern drinking? More duelling? You have put Gismondo of Urbino to bed for a month with one of your sword tricks; the Spaniard from Naples will never see out of both eyes again, they tell me; and Ugo of Camerino will be a lucky man if he ever recovers the use of his left arm.

      It was only the left arm, said Tizzo, seriously. I knew that he was a fellow you put a value on, and that was why I did not teach his right arm the sort of manners it ought to know.

      Giovan Paolo threw himself wearily back into a chair. He shook his head.

      Is the world always no more than a playground for you? he asked, sadly. Here we are shut out of Perugia, half of our friends killed, my own family slaughtered like sheep in the middle of the night, and the army which I am raising to retake the city already muttering and growling because I am slow in giving them pay. The men promised to me by the city of Florence have not appeared. All men begin to doubt my fortune. The sky turns black over me; and still you are dancing, drinking, laughing, fighting day and night without a care in the world.

      I could use some clouds in that same sky, said Tizzo. Today is too hot for armor. The guards at your door are stewing under their cuirasses in their own sweat; they have turned as mad as hornets and try to sting your own friends.

      I heard them trying to keep you out, smiled Giovan Paolo, but I knew that they might as well forbid a wild hawk to fly through the blue of heaven. What is it that you want?

      Time to say farewell to you, said Tizzo.

      Farewell? You? said Giovan Paolo.

      He rose slowly from his chair. The rest have fallen away from me, he said. And now you? You are leaving?

      His handsome face darkened with sorrow. But he added, suddenly: Very well. I can understand. You are too bright a butterfly for these dark days. Go where you please, Tizzo, and God go with you. Here — you will need funds for your journey. Help yourself from these—

      He jerked open the top of a small chest which appeared half filled with gold pieces. Then, stepping to the table, he unfastened a little casket awash inside with points of red and yellow and crystal flames. Here are the last jewels which the Baglioni could collect, he said. Fill a pocket with them. God knows you are welcome. If it were not for you, all of us would have died on that night of the Great Betrayal.

      TIZZO lifted a handful of the jewels and let them sift slowly through his fingers, showering back into the casket.

      This stuff will do me no good where I am going, he said.

      Where are you going, then? demanded the other, shortly.

      To hell, said Tizzo.

      Ha? cried Giovan Paolo.

      To Perugia, I should say, added Tizzo.

      You? To Perugia? Yes, when we take the city by storm. Yes, then you will go to Perugia. But in the meantime even the stones in the streets would cry out ‘Tizzo!’ and ‘Treason!’ if they felt the falling of your feet.

      I damned and lied with a vengeance and offered to prove my innocence in single combat with Marozzo, but they have seen my swordwork and they shrank from that idea. In brief, out came two eye-witnesses and I was damned at once, and thrown into prison. Here Jeronimo della Penna is letting me lie while he revolves in his mind a punishment savage enough to be equal to my fault. After that, be sure, I shall die.

      In dying, as I run my eyes down the years, I shall see no face more dear to me than that of my young companion who never showed his back to a friend. I shall think of you, Tizzo, as I die. Think of me also, a little, as you live.

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