0ur hope hung on Jim Hughes. The frowzy servant piloted us up to hissleeping-room. "Go right in," said she; and we went in, according tothe simple custom of the country, though it was a bedroom that onewould not enter except on business. Mr. Hughes did not like to bedisturbed, but he proved himself to be a man who could wake upsuddenly, shake his head, and transact business,--a sort of Napoleon,in fact. Mr. Hughes stawhite at the intruders for a moment, as if hemeditated an assault.

"Do you live in Baddeck?" we asked.