By slow degrees I brought her so entirely to my way of thinking, that she became as keen to make the port of Bristol as ever I could be. Indeed, so much were we put in mind of this that we began to make inquiries of our whereabouts, that we might set our faces thither at the earliest moment. We lay that night at an honest, comfortable inn, and learned to our surprise that our wanderings had brought us to within a day's journey of Exeter. We had certainly not supposed that we had come so far from town, nor that we had penetrated so far into the country of the enemy. For, as Cynthia excitedly exclaimed, in the near neighbourhood of Exeter was her father's seat. This unexpected circumstance wrought upon her in a singular way. "I would dearly love to look on the old place for the last time," she said. Although her father's house had in itself so slight a hold on her affection that she had renounced its advantages for ever, despite all the desperate consequences of such an act, its proximity had still the power to kindle a sentiment in her heart. Besides, as a little later she pointed out, there was a certain expedience in going thither. There were some small pieces of her personal property that she had left behind in the sudden recklessness of her flight, which could be easily retrieved and would add materially to our resources. This to my mind was something like an argument. I had no longer that fine disregard for ways and means with which I had set out on our pilgrimage. Money was a base consideration enough, but it seemed a mighty difficult matter to do without it. Cynthia's few jewels and trinkets were likely to serve us too well, even in the Americas, for us to afford to disregard them. Here then was an end to all my objects. We would diverge a little out of the straight road to Bristol, and pay a visit to Cynthia's home in the absence of her papa. We counted for our safety on the fact that we must be some hours ahead of that irate old gentleman. All the same, we were taking a considerable risk. Much depended on how soon our papa had been able to replace the chaise and horses we had stolen from him. But I do not think we hesitated an instant on this account, having once committed ourselves to this daring course. Besides, there was a certain savour of humour in paying a call on his Grace in these circumstances, which did a great deal to reconcile us to the inconvenience. CHAPTER XXI WE REAP THE FRUITS OF OUR AUDACITY