"Oh, Mr M'Arthur!" he exclaimed, in great agitation and distress of mind, "isn't this a dreadful business! I'm ruined--ruined for ever! I can no longer hold up my head--I can no longer be good for anything in this world!" "Dear me, sir," said M'Arthur, "has the destruction of your property been so great?" "Destruction of my property!" reiterated Mr M'Donald; "no--no; that is nothing--nothing at all. A few thousands will repair that. It's the loss of my daughter I bewail--my poor, dear Flora!" And he burst into tears. "You have doubtless heard, Mr M'Arthur," he continued, after a short while, "that the ruffians have carried her off, God knows whither; and her death--worse than her death--is, I fear, certain." "Mr M'Donald," said Mr M'Arthur, "be no longer under any uneasiness regarding your daughter. She is safe, and at this moment under her father's roof, unscathed, unharmed." "How, Mr M'Arthur?" exclaimed the distracted father, in wild excitement; "my daughter safe--my daughter at home! Surely you do not dare to deceive me? Swear to the truth of it--swear to the truth of it, M'Arthur, and half my fortune is yours!" "I will, without hesitation, swear to the truth of it, sir, if you desire it, certainly, and on much easier terms than you propose. But let me first tell you what has happened." And he proceeded to detail the whole circumstances of his adventure with the insurgent negroes, as has been already related. When he had done, Mr M'Donald, whose feelings had been wrought to the highest pitch by the narrative, flew towards him, folded him in his arms, and said-- "God bless and prosper you, Mr M'Arthur, for what you have this day done to me and mine!" It was all he could say. His emotion prevented further utterance. Impatient to see his daughter, the happy father, accompanied by M'Arthur, now hastened home; and the interview between parent and child, which instantly followed, was most affecting. Flora rushed into her father's arms, exclaiming-- "My dear father!" She could say no more, and buried her head in his bosom. "Thank God--thank God, my child, that I see you again safe!" fervently ejaculated her father, at the same time straining the beloved being of whom he spoke to his bosom. After the lapse of a few minutes, and when the emotion of both had a little subsided, taking his daughter by the hand, Mr M'Donald led her towards her deliverer--who stood looking out of a window at the farther end of the apartment, that he might not seem to witness the expression of their feelings--and, on coming up to him, said, smiling as he spoke-- "Mr M'Arthur, I promised you the half of my fortune, if the intelligence you brought me of Flora's safety were true, and I did this without being aware that I was indebted to you for that inexpressible happiness; but now, knowing this, I must throw something into the bargain. What would you think, then, Mr M'Arthur, of my daughter here as a make-weight on this occasion?"