CHAPTER XXXVIII.
HOW LONGEARS SHOWED HIS GALLANTRY IN FANNY'S SERVICE.
It was one of those magnificent days of Fall, which dower the world with such a wealth of golden splendor everywhere--but principally in the mountains.
The trees rose like mighty monarchs, clad in royal robes of blue and yellow, emerald and gold, and crimson; the forest kings and little princely alders, ashes and red dogwoods, all were in their glory.
Chiefly the emperor tulip-tree, however, shook to the air its noble vestments, and lit up all the hill-side with its beauty.

The streams ran merrily in the rich light--the oriole swayed upon the gorgeous boughs and sang away his soul--over all drooped the diaphanous haze of October, like an enchanting dream.
To see the mountains of Virginia in October, and not grow extravagant, is one of those things which rank with the discovery of perpetual motion--an impossibility.
Would you have strength and rude might?
The oak is, yonder, battered by a thousand storms, and covered with the rings of forgotten centuries.

Splendor?
The mountain banners of the crimson dogwood, red maple, yellow hickory and chestnut flout the sky--as though all the nations of the world had met in one great federation underneath the azure dome not built with hands, and clashed together there the variegated banners which once led them to war--now beckoning in with waving silken folds the thousand years of peace! Would you have beauty, and a tender delicacy of outline and fine coloring?
Here is that too; for over all,--over the splendid emperors and humble princes, and the red, and blue, and gold, of oak, and hickory, and maple, droops that magical veil whereof we spoke--that delicate witchery, which lies upon the gorgeous picture like a spell, melting the headlands into distant figures, beckoning and smiling, making the colors of the leaves more delicate and tender--turning the autumn mountains into a fairy land of unimagined splendor and delight! Extravagance is moderation looking upon such a picture.
Such a picture was unrolled before the four individuals who now took their way toward the fine hill to the west of the Bower of Nature, and they enjoyed its beauty, and felt fresher and purer for the sight.
"Isn't it splendid!" cried Fanny.
"Oh, yes!" Redbud said, gazing delightedly at the trees and the sky.
"Talk about the lowland," said Ralph, with patriotic scorn; "I tell you, my heart's delight, that there is nothing, anywhere below, to compare with this." "Not at Richmond ?--but permit me first to ask if your observation was addressed to me, sir ?" said Miss Fanny, stopping.
"Certainly it was, my own," "I am not your own." "Aren't you ?" "No, and I never will be!" "Wait till you are asked!" replied Ralph, laughing triumphantly at this retort.
"Hum!" exclaimed Fanny.
"But you asked about Richmond, did you not, my beauty ?" "Ridiculous!" cried Fanny, laughing; "well, yes, I did." "A pretty sort of a place," Ralph replied; "but not comparable to Winchester." "Indeed--I thought differently." "That's not to the purpose--you are no judge of cities." "Hum! I suppose you are." "Of course!" "A judge of everything ?" "Nearly--among other things, I judge that if you continue to look at me, and don't mind where you are walking, Miss Fanny, your handsome feet will carry you into that stream!" There was much good sense in these words; and Fanny immediately took the advice which had been proffered--that is to say, she turned her eye away from the bantering lips of her companion, and measured the stream which they were approaching.
It was one of those little mountain-brooks which roll their limpid waters over silver sands; hurl by through whispering ledges, the resort of snipe and woodcock; or, varying this quiet and serene existence with occasional action, dart between abrupt banks over mossy rocks, laughing as they fly onward to the open sunlight.
The spot which the party had reached, united these characteristics mentioned.
A path led to a mossy log, stretched from bank to bank, some feet above the water--a log which had answered the purpose of a bridge for a long time, it seemed; for both ends were buried in the sward and the flowers which decorated it.
Below this, the limpid stream wound over bright sands and pebbles, which glittered in the ripples like diamonds.
"Now!" cried Ralph, "here is a pretty pass! How are these delightful young ladies to get over, Verty ?" "I don't know--I suppose they will walk," observed Verty, simply.
"Walk!" "Yes." "What! when that very dog there had to balance himself in traversing the log ?" "Who, Longears ?" "Yes, Longears." "He's not used to logs," said Verty, smiling, and shaking his head; "he generally jumps the streams, like Cloud." "Oh! you need'nt be afraid," here interrupted Redbud, smiling, and passing before Fanny quickly; "we can get over easily enough." The explanation of which movement was, that Miss Redbud saw the lurking mischief in Mr.Ralph's eyes, and wished at least to protect herself.
"Easy enough!" cried Ralph, moving forward quickly.
"Yes; look!" And with the assistance of Verty, who held one of her hands, Redbud essayed to pass the bridge.
The moss rendered it slippery, and near the middle she almost fell into the stream; with Verty's aid, however, the passage was safely effected.
"There!" said Redbud, smiling, "you see I was right, Mr.Ashley--was I not ?" "You always are!" "And me, sir ?" said Fanny, approaching the bridge with perfect carelessness.
"You are nearly always wrong, my life's darling," observed Mr.Ralph.
"You are too bad, Ralph! I'll get angry!" "At what ?" "At your impertinence!" "I was not impertinent." "You were." "I was right." "You were not." "And the proof is, that you are going to do something wrong now," said Ralph, laughing.
"What, sir ?" "I mean, you _think_ you are going to ?" "What! for goodness gracious sake!" "Cross that log!" "I certainly am going to," said Fanny, putting her foot upon it.
"You certainly are _not_." "Who will prevent me ?" "I will, my heart's dear," said Ralph, snatching Miss Fanny up in his arms, and rapidly passing 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 Fanny'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 Fanny, 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 Fanny, pouting, and pulling down her sleeve, which had mounted to her shoulder in the passage.
"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 Fanny.
"Uncharitable!" "Impudent!" "Unfortunate!" With which retort, Mr.Ralph Ashley pointed to the slipper-less foot, which was visible beneath Miss Fanny'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 Fanny took her share.