Davy’s laughter was contagious. As the truth began to dawn on her Mrs. Quiggin first chuckled, then tittered, then laughed outright; and at last her voice rose behind her husband’s in clear trills of uncontrollable merriment. Laughter was the good genie that drew their assundered hearts together. It broke down the barrier that divided them; it melted the frozen places where love might not pass. They could not resist it. Their anger fled before it like evil creatures of the night. At the first sound of Davy’s laughter something in Nelly’s bosom seemed to whisper “He loves me still;” and at the first note of Nelly’s, something clamored in Davy’s breast, “She’s mine, she’s mine!” They turned toward each other in the darkness with a yearning cry. “Nelly!” cried Davy, and he opened his arms to her. “Davy!” cried Nelly, and she leaped to his embrace. And so ended in laughter and kisses their little foolish comedy of love. As soon as Davy had recovered his breath he said, with what gravity he could command, “Seems to me, Nelly Vauch, begging your pardon, darling, that we’ve been a couple of fools.” “Whoever could have believed it?” said Nelly. “What does it mane at all, said Davy. “It means,” said Nelly, “that our good friends knew each other, and that he told her, and she told him, and that to bring us together again they played a trick on our jealousy.” “Then we _were_ jealous?” said Davy. “Why else are we here?” said Nelly. “So you _did_ come to see a man, after all?” said Davy. “And _you_ came to see a woman,” said Nelly. They had began to laugh again, and to walk to and fro about the lawn, arm-inarm and waist-to-waist, vowing that they would never part--no, never, never, never--and that nothing on earth should separate them, when they heard a step on the grass behind. “Who’s there?” said Davy. And a voice from the darkness answered, “It’s Willie Quarrie, Capt’n.” Davy caught his breath. “Lord-a-massy me!” said he. “I’d clane forgotten.” “So had I,” said Nelly, with alarm. “I was to have started back for Cajlao by the Belfast packet.” “And I was to have gone home by carriage.” “If you plaze, Capt’n,” said Willie Quarrie, coming up. “I’ve been looking for you high and low--the pacquet’s gone.” Davy drew a long breath of relief. “Good luck to her,” said he, with a shout. “And, if you plaze,” said Willie, “Mr. Lovibond is gone with her.” “Good luck to _him_,” said Davy. “And Miss Crows has gone, too,” said Willie. “Good luck to her as well,” said Davy; and Nelly whispered at his side, “There--what did I tell you?” “And if you plaze, Capt’n,” said Willie Quarrie, stammering nervously, “Mr. Lovibond, sir, he has borrowed our--our tickets and--and taken them away with him.”