The Last of the Foresters Part 53

"What! for goodness gracious sake!"

"Cross that log!"

"I certainly am going to," said f.a.n.n.y, putting her foot upon it.

"You certainly are _not_."

"Who will prevent me?"

"I will, my heart's dear," said Ralph, s.n.a.t.c.hing Miss f.a.n.n.y up in his arms, and rapidly pa.s.sing across with his burden; "nothing easier! By Jove, there goes your slipper!"

In fact, just at the middle of the log, the ribbon, binding the slipper to Miss f.a.n.n.y's ankle, had broken--probably on account of her struggles--and the luckless slipper had fallen into the stream. It was now scudding along like a Lilliputian boat, the huge rosettes of crimson ribbon standing out like sails.

Ralph burst into a roar of laughter, from which he was instantly diverted by a rousing slap upon the cheek, administered by the hand of f.a.n.n.y, who cried out at his audacity.

"Cousins, you know!--we are cousins, darling; but what a tremendous strength of arm you have!"

"Try it again, sir!" said Miss f.a.n.n.y, pouting, and pulling down her sleeve, which had mounted to her shoulder in the pa.s.sage.

"Never!" cried Ralph; "I am fully conscious of my improper conduct. I blush to think of it--that is to say, my left cheek does!"

"Served you right!" said f.a.n.n.y.

"Uncharitable!"

"Impudent!"

"Unfortunate!"

With which retort, Mr. Ralph Ashley pointed to the slipper-less foot, which was visible beneath Miss f.a.n.n.y's skirt, and laughed.

Ralph would then have made immediate pursuit of the slipper, but Verty detained him.

The young man called Longears, pointed out the rosetted boat to that intelligent serviteur, and then turned to the company.

In two minutes Longears returned, panting, with the slipper in his dripping mouth, from which it was transferred to the foot of its mistress, with merry laughter for accompaniment.

This little incident was the subject of much amusing comment to the party--in which Miss f.a.n.n.y took her share. She had soon recovered her good-humor, and now laughed as loudly as the loudest. At one moment she certainly did blush, however--that is to say, when, in ascending the hill--Verty and Redbud being before--Mr. Ralph referred to the delight he had experienced when he "saluted" her in crossing--which he could not help doing, he said, as she was his favorite cousin, and her cheek lay so near his own.

f.a.n.n.y had blushed at this, and declared it false;--with what truth, we have never been able to discover. The question is scarcely important.

CHAPTER x.x.xIX.

UP THE HILL-SIDE AND UNDER THE CHESTNUTS.

Thus leaving the sedgy stream behind, with all its brilliant ripples, silver sands, and swaying waterflags, which made their merry music for it, as it went along toward the far Potomac,--our joyful party ascended the fine hill which rose beyond, mounting with every step, above the little town of Winchester, which before long looked more like a lark's nest hidden in a field of wheat, than what it was--an honest border town, with many memories.

Verty and Redbud, as we have said, went first.

We have few artists in Virginia--only one great humorist with the pencil. This true history has not yet been submitted to him. Yet we doubt whether ever the fine pencil of Monsignor Andante Strozzi could transfer to canvas, or the engraver's block, the figures of the maiden and the young man.

Beauty, grace, and picturesqueness might be in the design, but the indefinable and subtle poetry--the atmosphere of youth, and joy, and innocence, which seemed to wrap them round, and go with them wherever they moved--could not be reproduced.

Yet in the mere material outline there was much to attract.

Redbud, with her simple little costume, full of grace and elegance--her slender figure, golden hair, and perfect grace of movement, was a pure embodiment of beauty--that all-powerful beauty, which exists alone in woman when she pa.s.ses from the fairy land of childhood, or toward the real world, pausing with reluctant feet upon the line which separates them.

Her golden hair was secured by a bow of scarlet ribbon, her dress was azure, the little chip hat, with its floating streamer, just fell over her fine brow, and gave a shadowy softness to her tender smile: she looked like some young shepherdness of Arcady, from out the old romances, fresh, and beautiful, and happy. Poor, cold words! If even our friend the Signor, before mentioned, could not do her justice, how can we, with nothing but our pen!

This little pastoral queen leant on the arm of the young Leatherstocking whom we have described so often. Verty's costume, by dint of these outlined descriptions, must be familiar to the reader.

He had secured his rifle, which he carried beneath his arm, and his eye dwelt on the autumn forest, with the old dreamy look which we have spoken of. As he thus went on, clad in his wild forest costume, placing his moccasined feet with caution upon the sod, and bending his head forward, as is the wont of hunters, Verty resembled nothing so much as some wild tenant of the American backwoods, taken back to Arcady, and in love with some fair Daphne, who had wiled him from the deer.

All the old doubt and embarra.s.sment had now disappeared from Redbud's face; and Verty, too, was happy.

They went on talking very quietly and pleasantly--the fresh little face of Redbud lit up by her tender smile.

"What are you gazing at?" said the young girl, smiling, as Verty's eye fixed itself upon the blue sky intently; "I don't see anything--do you?"

"Yes," said Verty, smiling too.

"What?"

"A pigeon."

"Where?"

"Up yonder!--and I declare! It is yours, Redbud."

"Mine?"

"Yes--see! he is sweeping nearer--pretty pigeon!"

"Oh--now I see him--but it is a mere speck; what clear sight you have!"

Verty smiled.

"The fact is, I was brought up in the woods," he said.

"I know; but can you recognize--?"

"Your pigeon, Reddie? oh, yes! It is the one I shot that day, and followed."

"Yes--"

"And found you by--I'm very much obliged to him," said Verty, smiling; "there he goes, sweeping back to the Bower of Nature."