“No. It is a gift from my beautiful Englishwoman, or rather Frenchwoman⁠—for I am convinced she was born in France, though I have not questioned her.”

“That ring comes from Milady?” cried Athos, with a voice in which it was easy to detect strong emotion.

“Her very self; she gave it me last night. Here it is,” replied d’Artagnan, taking it from his finger.

Athos examined it and became very pale. He tried it on his left hand; it fit his finger as if made for it.

A shade of anger and vengeance passed across the usually calm brow of this gentleman.

“It is impossible it can be she,” said he. “How could this ring come into the hands of Milady Clarik? And yet it is difficult to suppose such a resemblance should exist between two jewels.”

“Do you know this ring?” said d’Artagnan.