With the last bit of strength he could gather, Basil quickly pedalled his way up from the abyss to his friends on the dirigible, who rejoiced at seeing him alive just a moment after having mourned what they believed was the brave detective's dreadful decease. His heart racing, he stumbled onto the makeshift vessel and fell on his side eyes closed, panting from utter exhaustion. His entire body ached from repeatedly crashing onto stone-hard surfaces, and what is more, from being mercilessly assaulted by the lethal razor-like claws belonging to the one who loathed him to such a degree, unable to face his final defeat, that he forwent pretending to be a gentleman and attempted to murder his nemesis single-handedly. Though the vicious brute had fallen to his demise, Basil, in spite of having managed to escape the same gruesome fate, now found himself in a dangerous condition. He had survived his enemy's attack; yet it was questionable whether he would survive the aftermath. His friends gazed in horror as they saw more and more crimson pearls of life trickle down his fur, half soaked from the previous rain. Basil silently cursed the corporal appendix to his ever-powerful mind for exposing him so. How utterly humiliating it was, for others to see him so vulnerable! But there was nothing he was able do about it. He groaned as, after some time of shallow breathing, he felt a piercing pain in his ribs following an attempt to take in a larger amount of air. He did not want to feel anymore. He wanted to be back in his rooms at Baker Street and at least die honourably in his own bed, rather than in the middle of the open sky like some godforsaken creature. Did he really want to depart? He was not certain of this yet, but if the agony he was in would last much longer, he knew only death could reliably release him, and he would not try to hold his last breath when the moment had arrived. At least his greatest foe would have perished before him, and that was what mattered most!

As quickly as they could, Dr. Dawson and Mr. Flaversham landed the dirigible. Olivia, who had already proven her outstanding courage, was weeping, fearing it would be too late to save the one who had saved her life. Dawson and Flaversham carried Basil, who was thankfully not a very heavy load, up a cab that passed them, which would stop by Basil's well-known address. When they arrived, Dawson ran inside without ringing the bell and implored Mrs. Judson to hurry out and help carry her injured tenant inside. Terrified by the sight, she let out a scream, but did as she was told immediately without hesitation. Together, they brought Basil inside his room and laid him onto his bed. Luckily, Dawson had left the case containing his medical equipment in the living room. He cleaned the victim's wounds and bandaged them as fast as he could. Basil's breathing was still very shallow and his pulse rapid but weak; but, they all hoped, his current state might gradually begin to improve a little. Mrs Judson opened the window to get more fresh air in.

All of a sudden, Basil felt a great dizziness overcome him and then it was as if he was finally completely numb. It was so strange; as if his mind had left his body behind and was now drifting off into space. He had no conception of what was actually happening, only that it was nothing he could explain to himself. A moment later, he heard Dawson desperately cry out "Oh NO!", and the others, gasping, wanting to know what the matter was. Dawson, who had been holding Basil's left wrist, had detected no more pulse.

"Quick, we must try to revive him! There's still a chance that he survives!" cried the medical mouse.

"Doctor, I'm alright, I'm alive!" Basil exclaimed several times; but then he realized that none of his company could actually hear him. In fact, he found himself floating above them, and could observe their every move from a bird's-eye view. He could even see his own self, lying there motionlessly, surrounded by looks of grief and despair! It was impossible – yet it was truly happening! He was not dreaming, of that he was certain. It was upsetting that they did not respond to him. Had he passed over to the other side? It couldn't be... He saw Dawson trying to reanimate him, saw Mrs. Judson and Olivia sobbing, and Mr. Flaversham standing still beside them, seemingly paralysed.

"Wake up, Basil! Wake up!" he heard Dawson shout. Then he heard a woman's voice that was unfamiliar to him, repeat the same words.

"It's not your time. You must go back! Go back! Go back!"

Suddenly the room seemed to grow exceedingly bright, as though all that had been there before had been swallowed by a curtain of light. The voice was now increasing in volume.

"Go back!"

"Whereto? Who are you?" Basil asked.

"To life! You live, Basil! You live!"

His question as to the possessor of the voice remained unanswered. Again, the feeling of dizziness returned and the flash of light gradually disappeared. The room was starting to assume its previous look. Basil no longer consciously floated above the others, but lay before them, surrounded by their gazes.

"You live!"

The voice was now clearly Dawson's.

Basil inhaled sharply and his eyes sprung open. He felt his mind unite with his body, which still hurt but less than before. His heart was beating again.

"Basil!" echoed several voices.

Mrs Judson took her recently re-awakened tenant's hand and held it to her tear-stained cheek.

"Mr. Basil! I'm so glad you didn't leave us!"

The cries of euphoria overwhelmed him, but still more, the logic-loving mouse was overwhelmed by the mysterious experience he had just made. What in the world had it been? Whatever supernatural forces had caused it, he was content with having returned to the mortal realm after all. Had it not been for Dawson, he might have remained on the other side for good...

"Let's leave him alone for awhile," said Mrs Judson. "Doctor, you'll stay with him, just to be safe?" Dawson nodded.

"Certainly."

He put out a few candles so it was dimmer in the room, closed the door and walked back to where Basil lay, staring at the ceiling.

"Thank Heavens you're alive!" he said. "We thought we had already lost you."

There were some seconds of silence, until Basil said quietly, "Dawson, you might think me insane – in fact, I think I'm insane – but I just had the most strange and remarkable experience!"

Dawson eyed him curiously.

"Tell me about it," he said.

"Well, for a moment I felt extremely dizzy and horrible, and then suddenly, felt absolutely nothing anymore. And then, I heard you scream, and then I saw you all from above, you know, as though I were invisibly floating above you. But I could also see myself – that is, my body. Yes, it was as if my mind – my consciousness – and my body were separated. I called out to you, but you didn't seem to hear me. And then... I saw everything become light, and heard a voice – a female's, though I know not whose exactly – telling me to go back to life, that it was not my time and so on. I knew I had to go back... And then I heard you say "You live" and felt my consciousness slip into my body again. And I woke up. Mad, isn't it?"

Whatever answer Basil had expected from Dawson, he had not expected this reply.

"Indeed. It is most mysterious. ...But I have heard quite a few mice tell of a similar story when I was working as a surgeon in the war. What they had in common was that they had faced death, but by some miracle, had narrowly escaped it. I suppose it was the same with you."

"But how is this possible?" Basil inquired.

"Some things, I guess, are beyond logic. These strange 'near-death-experiences', as they are called, might be a mystery that even the greatest detective cannot solve."

"Ah, but I am convinced here must be some scientific explanation for it!" Basil said, though not sure whether he genuinely believed his own words.

"How are you feeling?" Dawson asked.

"Alright. Could be far worse," Basil replied.

"The pains should wear off soon," Dawson said, well aware that Basil was bending the truth.

"Oh, that's...that's good."

Dawson shook his head with a smile. After a brief period of silence, Basil swallowed and said, "Doctor, I want to thank you, most sincerely, for saving my life. Twice, in fact. If it hadn't been for your interference, I would most assuredly be dead. No other mouse has ever helped me in such a way as you have. I am forever indebted to you, my friend."

With these words, Basil extended his hand, which Dawson took and held for awhile before gently shaking it.

"Thank you!" Basil repeated. Indeed, not a soul had tolerated him for so long and proved so reliable and trustworthy a companion on any case he had worked on. Basil swore to himself that he would think of a way to express his gratitude in a manner other than with mere words.

"You are most welcome," Dawson said. "No go and rest yourself, so you grow stronger by tomorrow. If you need anything, I'll be there. Goodnight!"

Basil nodded with a smile. "Goodnight, Dawson!" he said.

Dawson put out the candles, shut the door behind him and went into the neighbouring room that usually stood empty. Mrs Judson had been so good as to let him, Flaversham and Olivia stay at Baker Street for the night.

Outside the window, Basil heard Big Ben chime the midnight hour.

"It's not my time," he whispered to himself, and closed his weary eyes.