sir nigel-第1章

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Sir　Nigel


by　Sir　Arthur　Conan　Doyle






CONTENT



I。　THE　HOUSE　OF　LORING

II。　HOW　THE　DEVIL　CAME　TO　WAVERLEY

III。　THE　YELLOW　HORSE　OF　CROOKSBURY

IV。　HOW　THE　SUMMONER　CAME　TO　THE　MANOR　HOUSE　OF　TILFORD

V。　HOW　NIGEL　WAS　TRIED　BY　THE　ABBOT　OF　WAVERLEY

VI。　IN　WHICH　LADY　ERMYNTRUDE　OPENS　THE　IRON　COFFER

VII。　HOW　NIGEL　WENT　MARKETING　TO　GUILFORD

VIII。　HOW　THE　KING　HAWKED　ON　CROOKSBURY　HEATH

IX。　HOW　NIGEL　HELD　THE　BRIDGE　AT　TILFORD

X。　HOW　THE　KING　GREETED　HIS　SENESCHAL　OF　CALAIS

XI。　IN　THE　HALL　OF　THE　KNIGHT　OF　DUPLIN

XII。　HOW　NIGEL　FOUGHT　THE　TWISTED　MAN　OF　SHALFORD

XIII。　HOW　THE　COMRADES　JOURNEYED　DOWN　THE　OLD；　OLD　ROAD

XIV。　HOW　NIGEL　CHASED　THE　RED　FERRET

XV。　HOW　THE　RED　FERRET　CAME　TO　COSFORD

XVI。　HOW　THE　KING'S　COURT　FEASTED　IN　CALAIS　CASTLE

XVII。　THE　SPANIARDS　ON　THE　SEA

XVIII。　HOW　BLACK　SIMON　CLAIMED　FORFEIT　FROM　THE　KING　OF　SARK

XIX。　HOW　A　SQUIRE　OF　ENGLAND　MET　A　SQUIRE　OF　FRANCE

XX。　HOW　THE　ENGLISH　ATTEMPTED　THE　CASTLE　OF　LA　BROHINIERE

XXI。　HOW　THE　SECOND　MESSENGER　WENT　TO　COSFORD

XXII。　HOW　ROBERT　OF　BEAUMANOIR　CAME　TO　FLOERMEL

XXIII。　HOW　THIRTY　OF　JOSSELIN　ENCOUNTERED　THIRTY　OF　FLOERMEL

XXIV。　HOW　NIGEL　WAS　CALLED　TO　HIS　MASTER

XXV。　HOW　THE　KING　OF　FRANCE　HELD　COUNSEL　AT　MAUPERTUIS

XXVI。　HOW　NIGEL　FOUND　HIS　THIRD　DEED

XXVII。　HOW　THE　THIRD　MESSENGER　CAME　TO　COSFORD




INTRODUCTION


Dame　History　is　so　austere　a　lady　that　if　one；　has　been　so
ill…advised　as　to　take　a　liberty　with　her；　one　should　hasten　to
make　amends　by　repentance　and　confession。　　Events　have　been
transposed　to　the　extent　of　some　few　months　in　this　narrative　in
order　to　preserve　the　continuity　and　evenness　of　the　story。　　I
hope　so　small　a　divergence　may　seem　a　venial　error　after　so　many
centuries。　　For　the　rest；　it　is　as　accurate　as　a　good　deal　of
research　and　hard　work　could　make　it。

The　matter　of　diction　is　always　a　question　of　taste　and　discretion
in　a　historical　reproduction。　　In　the　year　1350　the　upper　classes
still　spoke　Norman…French；　though　they　were　just　beginning　to
condescend　to　English。　　The　lower　classes　spoke　the　English　of　the
original　Piers　Plowman　text；　which　would　be　considerably　more
obscure　than　their　superiors'　French　if　the　two　were　now
reproduced　or　imitated。　　The　most　which　the　chronicles　can　do　is
to　catch　the　cadence　and　style　of　their　talk；　and　to　infuse　here
and　there　such　a　dash　of　the　archaic　as　may　indicate　their　fashion
of　speech。

I　am　aware　that　there　are　incidents　which　may　strike　the　modern
reader　as　brutal　and　repellent。　　It　is　useless；　however；　to　draw
the　Twentieth　Century　and　label　it　the　Fourteenth。　　It　was　a
sterner　age；　and　men's　code　of　morality；　especially　in　matters　of
cruelty；　was　very　different。　　There　is　no　incident　in　the　text　for
which　very　good　warrant　may　not　be　given。　　The　fantastic　graces　of
Chivalry　lay　upon　the　surface　of　life；　but　beneath　it　was　a
half…savage　population；　fierce　and　animal；　with　little　ruth　or
mercy。　　It　was　a　raw；　rude　England；　full　of　elemental　passions；
and　redeemed　only　by　elemental　virtues。　　Such　I　have　tried　to　draw　it。

For　good　or　bad；　many　books　have　gone　to　the　building　of　this　one。
I　look　round　my　study　table　and　I　survey　those　which　lie　with　me
at　the　moment；　before　I　happily　disperse　them　forever。　　I　see　La
Croix's　〃Middle　Ages；〃　Oman's　〃Art　of　War；〃　Rietstap's　〃Armorial
General；〃　De　la　Borderie's　〃Histoire　de　Bretagne；〃　Dame　Berner's
〃Boke　of　St。　Albans；〃　〃The　Chronicle　of　Jocelyn　of　Brokeland；〃
〃The　Old　Road；〃　Hewitt's　〃Ancient　Armour；〃　Coussan's　〃Heraldry；〃
Boutell's　〃Arms；〃　Browne's　〃Chaucer's　〃England；〃　Cust's　〃Scenes　of
the　Middle　Ages；〃　Husserand's　〃Wayfaring　Life；〃　Ward's　〃Canterbury
Pilgrims；〃　Cornish's　〃Chivalry；〃　Hastings'　〃British　Archer；〃
Strutt's　〃Sports；〃　Johnes　Froissart；　Hargrove's　〃Archery；〃
Longman's　〃Edward　III；〃　Wright's　〃Domestic　Manners。〃　With　these
and　many　others　I　have　lived　for　months。　　If　I　have　been　unable　to
combine　and　transfer　their　effect；　the　fault　is　mine。

ARTHUR　CONAN　DOYLE。

〃UNDERSHAW；〃　　November　30；　1905。




I。　　THE　HOUSE　OF　LORING


In　the　month　of　July　of　the　year　1348；　between　the　feasts　of　St。
Benedict　and　of　St。　Swithin；　a　strange　thing　came　upon　England；
for　out　of　the　east　there　drifted　a　monstrous　cloud；　purple　and
piled；　heavy　with　evil；　climbing　slowly　up　the　hushed　heaven。　　In
the　shadow　of　that　strange　cloud　the　leaves　drooped　in　the　trees；
the　birds　ceased　their　calling；　and　the　cattle　and　the　sheep
gathered　cowering　under　the　hedges。　　A　gloom　fell　upon　all　the
land；　and　men　stood　with　their　eyes　upon　the　strange　cloud　and　a
heaviness　upon　their　hearts。　　They　crept　into　the　churches　where
the　trembling　people　were　blessed　and　shriven　by　the　trembling
priests。　　Outside　no　bird　flew；　and　there　came　no　rustling　from
the　woods；　nor　any　of　the　homely　sounds　of　Nature。　　All　was　still；
and　nothing　moved；　save　only　the　great　cloud　which　rolled　up　and
onward；　with　fold　on　fold　from　the　black　horizon。　　To　the　west　was
the　light　summer　sky；　to　the　east　this　brooding　cloud…bank；
creeping　ever　slowly　across；　until　the　last　thin　blue　gleam　faded
away　and　the　whole　vast　sweep　of　the　heavens　was　one　great　leaden
arch。

Then　the　rain　began　to　fall。　　All　day　it　rained；　and　all　the　night
and　all　the　week　and　all　the　month；　until　folk　had　forgotten　the
blue　heavens　and　the　gleam　of　the　sunshine。　　It　was　not　heavy；　but
it　was　steady　and　cold　and　unceasing；　so　that　the　people　were
weary　of　its　hissing　and　its　splashing；　with　the　slow　drip　from
the　eaves。　　Always　the　same　thick　evil　cloud　flowed　from　east　to
west　with　the　rain　beneath　it。　　None　could　see　for　more　than　a
bow…shot　from　their　dwellings　for　the　drifting　veil　of　the
rain…storms。　　Every　morning　the　folk　looked　upward　for　a　break；
but　their　eyes　rested　always　upon　the　same　endless　cloud；　until　at
last　they　ceased　to　look　up；　and　their　hearts　despaired　of　ever
seeing　the　change。　　It　was　raining　at　Lammas…tide　and　raining　at
the　Feast　of　the　Assumption　and　still　raining　at　Michaelmas。　　The
crops　and　the　hay；　sodden　and　black；　had　rotted　in　the　fields；　for
they　were　not　worth　the　garnering。　　The　sheep　had　died；　and　the
calves　also；　so　there　was　little　to　kill　when　Martinmas　came　and
it　was　time　to　salt　the　meat　for　the　winter。　　They　feared　a
famine；　but　it　was　worse　than　famine　which　was　in　store　for　them。

For　the　rain　had　ceased　at　last；　and　a　sickly　autumn　sun　shone
upon　a　land　which　was　soaked　and　sodden　with　water。　　Wet　and
rotten　leaves　reeked　and　festered　under　the　foul　haze　which　rose
from　the　woods。　　The　fields　were　spotted　with　monstrous　fungi　of　a
size　and　color　never　matched　before　…　scarlet　and　mauve　and　liver
and　black。　　It　was　as　though　the　sick　earth　had　burst　into　foul
pustules；　mildew　and　lichen　mottled　the　walls；　and　with　that
filthy　crop　Death　sprang　also　from　the　water…soaked　earth。　　Men
died；　and　women　and　children；　the　baron　of　the　castle；　the
franklin　on　the　farm；　the　monk　in　the　abbey　and　the　villein　in　his
wattle…and…daub　cottage。　　All　breathed　the　same　polluted　reek　and
all　died　the　same　death　of　corruption。　　Of　those　who　were　stricken
none　recovered；　and　the　illness　was　ever　the　same　…　gross　boils；
raving；　and　the　black　blotches　which　gave　its　name　to　the　disease。
All　through　the　winter　the　dead　rotted　by　the　wayside　for　want　of
some　one　to　bury　them。　　In　many　a　village　no　single　man　was　left
alive。　　Then　at　last　the　spring　came　with　sunshine　and　health　and
lightness　and　laughter　…　the　greenest；　sweetest；　tenderest　spring
that　England　had　ever　known　…　but　only　half　of　England　could　know
it。　　The　other　half　had　passed　away　with　the　great　purple　cloud。

Yet　it　was　there　in　that　stream　of　death；　in　that　reek　of
corruption；　that　the　brighter　and　freer　England　was　born。　　There
in　that　dark　hour　the　first　streak　of　the　new　dawn　was　seen。　　For
in　no　way　save　by　a　great　upheaval　and　change　could　the　nation
break　away　from　that　iron　feudal　system　which　held　her　limbs。　　But
now　it　was　a　new　country　which　came　out　from　that　year　of　death。
The　barons　were　dead　in　swaths。　　No　high　turret　nor　cunning　moat
could　keep　out　that　black　commoner　who　struck