Then, he began to kiss, one after the other, those dear studs with which he was about to part. All at once he uttered a terrible cry.

“What is the matter?” exclaimed d’Artagnan, anxiously; “what has happened to you, my Lord?”

“All is lost!” cried Buckingham, becoming as pale as a corpse; “two of the studs are wanting, there are only ten.”

“Can you have lost them, my Lord, or do you think they have been stolen?”

“They have been stolen,” replied the duke, “and it is the cardinal who has dealt this blow. Hold; see! The ribbons which held them have been cut with scissors.”

“If my Lord suspects they have been stolen, perhaps the person who stole them still has them in his hands.”