I'm sorry I am so late with this new chapter. Life, including a nasty root canal and medical tests, got in the way. I hope you enjoy!

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Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan searched the riverbank for hours without finding any sign that Aramis had pulled himself out of the water onto the bank. They had ridden both sides, their hearts hoping to discover at least some sign of his having left the swiftly moving river, but there was no trace of him. They reluctantly had to stop when darkness began to fall.

Making camp for the night, all three brothers had only one thing on their minds: to be up as soon as the sun began to rise. They were all worried sick about their missing brother. Obviously, at least one of the shots had found him, or he wouldn't have been carried downriver. Did he go under? Would they find his body tomorrow along the next stretch of river? None of them wanted to believe that, but the thought kept coming to them: then where was he? They knew they would never give up searching until they found him.

The next morning, they began their search again, hopeful with the new day that they would finally find him, or at least, find some evidence that he had made it out of the river.

By midday, they were near panic as they had found no trace anywhere of him. Stopping for a moment, Porthos said, "How could he have vanished like this?"

D'Artagnan softly said, "Even if he didn't make it out of the water...", and couldn't go on. He was voicing what all of them tried not to think about.

Athos replied, "His ... body still would have washed ashore. Which means he is indeed still alive. We will continue after stopping to eat a little. We need sustenance, or we will tire. Then, we continue until dusk."

It was rare to see the heads hanging and shoulders drooping of the three men. But it was rare indeed when they were possibly facing losing one of their brothers. Their hearts were sad indeed, and none of them really felt like eating, while one of them's fate was unknown.

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She was trying to hurry her father along. He was a big man, broad-shouldered and strong, with sandy brown hair, and bushy eyebrows. She had found him out in the field, and he hadn't wanted to leave his work. It was rare for her to insist upon something once her Papa had made his wishes clear, but her worry for the unknown, wounded young man made her bold, and finally her father had dropped his hoe and come with her.

She raced through the field, then on through the flower-filled meadow she had so enjoyed early that morning. Gone was the carefree moments she had spent, replaced by a pair of pain-filled chocolate brown eyes in a deathly pale face. With that vision tormenting her, she moved even more swiftly, never looking back to see if her father followed her.

Entering the forest, she nimbly ran barefoot through the creepers and undergrowth, making a beeline for the place she had left her injured stranger-Aramis, he had told her. But when she got to the clearing, her heart sank, as he was once more lying unconscious on the ground. She had been so happy that he had awakened, but he couldn't sustain the effort.

Kneeling beside him, she gently tapped his shoulder, hoping maybe there would be some response. But he remained motionless. Her father silently knelt beside her, his eyes roving over the man, wondering who he was, how he had been injured, and where he had come from. He saw the leather, and it occurred to him that the man might well be a soldier. But their were no weapons on his belt, a very unusual occurrence if he indeed was.

"Angelique, did he have anything on him to indicate who he is", he asked his daughter.

"I did not search him, Papa. I was just concerned for his being hurt," she replied, her eyes never leaving Aramis' face. "Please, Papa, would you be able to carry him to the house? I can care for him there."

He frowned as he answered her, "We cannot bring strangers into our house, Angelique. We have no idea who he is, or why he was injured."

"If you will not bring him there," she replied very softly, but in determined voice, "I will stay here and take care of him. He will die if we leave him here. I cannot just ignore him. He has done nothing to us. He is no threat."

"Angelique ...", he began, entreating her to listen to reason.

"No, Papa. I will not desert him in the forest to die. I would expect the same of someone else if they ever, God forbid, found you sick or injured while you were on one of your trips. You know me. I cannot abide seeing hurt or injury. I do not know where he came from, but he was lying half in, half out of the creek, totally helpless and at the mercy of any wild animal that might happen along, to say nothing of bandits and others up to no good. I will stay with him to protect and nurse him, if you do not want him to come into our house."

"You know I can deny you nothing, my sweet poppet. Very well," he said, in a resigned voice. Gathering up the unconscious young man, he turned and headed for their home, his daughter very close to his side, her eyes never leaving the stranger's face.

He loved his daughter very much, and he knew how compassionate she was. If she found an injured animal or bird, she always had to take it in and care for it. She had a very tender side to her, and it was now totally focused on the man he was carrying in his arms. He just hoped he wouldn't be proven wrong in taking the man into their home.

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Reaching their small house, Angelique ran ahead to open the door for them. Her father brought his burden inside, and straight back to the small extra room they kept for when Uncle Claude visited, laying the man upon the bed. Angelique adjusted the pillow under his head to better support him, gently laying her hand upon his cheek as if to say 'it's all right. You're safe now."

She didn't know why she felt as she did about the man-she kept having to remind herself to say 'Aramis'. She almost felt some connection to him, which seemed strange, as she had never seem him before in her life.

Her father said, "We had better examine his injuries, and treat them. We do not know how long he had lain in the woods before you happened across him. Having lain in the dirt, the water, the weeds, he will be lucky if he gets no infections."

Together, they gently lifted him and removed doublet. He groaned as they did so, and Angelique excitedly said, "Aramis! Please wake for us." But his eyes remained closed.

She went to get a bowl of water and cloth, and gently wiped away the encrusted blood on the side of his face, revealing a long gash. Her father thought to himself 'a bullet wound', frowning, as he hoped the man wouldn't draw his attackers to their house.

Next, she opened his shirt gingerly, trying not to disturb the injury causing the bleeding on his side. Again, wiping away the blood, they discovered a second bullet wound, causing her father's frown to deepen. What had they gotten themselves into, he worried.

Angelique applied some of the salve which her father used when he cut himself while working in the fields to both the head wound and the one in his side, before winding bandages around his side and head.

Angelique once again spoke Aramis' name, hoping maybe now he would hear her.

Aramis, groggy and barely conscious, could hear the angel's voice speaking to him again. He tried very hard to do as she asked, finding it hard to lift his eyelids. Finally being able to do so, he saw again the lovely young woman he had seen before. Behind her this time, she saw a giant of a man, but with a resemblance to her.

But as the man looked on, his eyes grew hard, and a light in his eyes as if he recognized him. "You!", he said, his voice full of anger.