Besides, we foun' this butcher-knife where yer was lyin'." Lincoln here held up a species of Mexican sword called a _machete_.
"Ha!--well." "That's all, Cap'n; only it's my belief there was Mexicans on this island, and them Frenchmen's gone with them." After Lincoln left me I lay musing on this still somewhat mysterious affair.

My memory, however, gradually grew clearer; and the events of the preceding night soon became linked together, and formed a complete chain.

The shot that passed so near my head in Twing's tent--the boat-- the French words I had heard before I received the blow--and the exclamation, "_Coup pour coup_!"-- all convinced me that Lincoln's conjectures were right.
Dubrosc had fired the shot and struck the blow that had left me senseless.
But who could the woman be whose voice I had heard pleading in my behalf?
My thoughts reverted to the boy who had gone off with Dubrosc, and whom I had often observed in the company of the latter.

A strange attachment appeared to exist between them, in which the boy seemed to be the devoted slave of the strong fierce Creole.

Could this be a woman?
I recollected having been struck with his delicate features, the softness of his voice, and the smallness of his hands.