That is very good, answered the First Consul, smiling with the sense of his own power; "and at an hour's notice, with fifty chosen men landed from the London Trader--ah, I love that name; it is appropriate--you could spike all the guns of that pretentious little battery, and lock the Commander of the Coast-Defence in one of his own cellars. Is it not so, my good Captain? Answer me not. That is enough. One question more, and you may return. Are you certain of the pilotage of the proud young fisherman who knows every grain of sand along his native shore? Surely you can bribe him, if he hesitates at all, or hold a pistol at his ear as he steers the leading prame into the bay!