In Memory of Elizabeth Pt. 5

        In Memory of Elizabeth
       A Great Mouse Detective Pastiche
       by Mouselady

Disclaimer: The Great Mouse Detective is (c) by the Walt Disney Co. Characters from the Basil of Baker Street mysteries (c) by the Estates of Eve Titus and Paul Galdone.  This story and any original characters are (c) by E. Grimes, a.k.a. Mouselady.  Please do NOT use this story in any way without my express written permission.  (You may create artwork if my copyright is credited.) Thanks!



In Part IV: Basil can no longer allow Elizabeth to hide the truth about her past from him... especially since Professor Ratigan begins tormenting the couple in earnest. He goes so far as to have his gang assault Basil, and even confronts Elizabeth in person, claiming that he has turned the detective against her. Fearing that Basil has indeed rejected her, Elizabeth is driven to near suicide.

After rescuing her from a pond, Basil finally succeeds in making Elizabeth tell him her story: that she had once worked in the seedy side of London, from which she had fled Ratigan and his evil intentions towards her. Basil assures her that his feelings toward her haven't changed, proving so by asking Elizabeth for her hand in marriage. She accepts, and the two prepare to face the future, united against a common enemy.

But it is the calm before the storm.

Part V

Dr. Dawson was awe-struck by the depth of love Basil had shown Elizabeth, and the courage and fortitude she in turn had shown, by promising to stand by Basil in the face of Ratigan's hatred. It seemed like the ending of a fairy tale, and Dawson wished the story could have ended there...that the young couple could have married and "lived happily ever after".

But real life seldom ran like a fairy tale.

"Talk of your 'star-crossed lovers'," Dawson sighed. "It's straight out of a Shakespearean tragedy..."

Mrs. Judson had to agree to that. But the day was passing by, and soon Basil would be home; so it was time to prepare the evening's tea.

"Shall I help you, my dear?" Dawson offered.

"Thank you, Doctor, but I can manage," Mrs. Judson said kindly. "You can sit in the kitchen with me, though, if you wish...

"I'll make those custard tarts you like so well, and a cherry trifle...Mr. Basil's most fond of cherries, ever since he discovered they were the Queen's favourite," she added, smiling.

But she grew sad as she remembered the trifle and crumpets she had served Basil and Elizabeth, on the night they had first met.

"Poor Miss Starling," she sighed. "How she loved to have tea here! And she was most fond of my trifles---but she was so happy to be with Mr. Basil, I could have served mud tarts and earthworms, and she'd have cared less.

"I didn't tell you, Doctor...that after they were betrothed, Miss Starling moved into this place?"

"What? But was that...proper?"

"Not by Mrs. Flaherty's lights," Mrs. Judson answered, laughing as she remembered her friend's reaction. "She was most horrified at the prospect, even though Miss Starling was sleeping in a separate room, and certainly nothing unseemly went on here. But Mr. Basil felt it best to have her close by, so she would feel safer."

"The room I have now...was that Elizabeth's room?" asked the doctor, who felt a bit awkward about the idea.

"No, Doctor. It was another room, further back...it's been locked up the past few years. I go in to clean it now and then, but I don't know if it'll be used again."

The wedding had been set for January 6th the following year. At first, they had planned to be married in the springtime, but Basil suggested that day in January because it was Sherlock Holmes' birthday. Elizabeth joked that he had picked that date so he wouldn't forget their anniversary.

"I never saw Miss Starling happier than at that time," Mrs. Judson recalled, as she rolled out the pastry crust. "And Mr. Basil was ever more cheerful than I'd seen him before. He went about his work, humming and singing, and even taught Miss Starling some of the experiments in his laboratory.

"They spoke often of the life they'd have together...the places they would go, and how they'd decorate the flat. The children they would have...incidentally, Doctor, your room was going to be the nursery."

It had been hard enough for Dawson to imagine his friend as a lover of any sort--- but almost impossible to picture him as a father. Basil---with children?

He could still remember how irritated Basil had been with the precocious Olivia Flaversham. She had actually been an adorable child, but a bit too energetic for the detective's nerves. In the end, however, even Basil had grown fond of her.

But after hearing so much of Mrs. Judson's story, anything seemed possible. Dawson glanced out into the sitting room, imagining it filled with little copies of Basil and Elizabeth...

He pictured the love and tenderness in Basil's face as he gazed down with pride at his first baby, cradled in Elizabeth's arms. He imagined him helping a toddler to take its first steps---or lovingly scolding his brood, as they climbed all over him while he tried to play his violin.

He could see a young Basil II learning his father's detective work; or a grown daughter, at her own wedding, being proudly escorted to the altar. He saw Basil, a grandfather now, touring the little ones through Sherlock Holmes' flat...

"I learned at the feet of the Great Detective himself," he might have told them proudly. As the good doctor thought of all these things, his heart ached for what might have been.

"Fate can be so cruel at times," lamented Dawson. "It seemed Elizabeth was truly meant for Basil. And what beautiful children she'd have given him!"

"Indeed," Mrs. Judson sighed. "It should have been so..."

Dawson did not want to ask the question, but knew he had to. "What went wrong, Mrs. Judson?"

The housekeeper slid the tarts into the oven, then sat down a few minutes before she answered. Dawson could see in her face that the end of the story would not be easy to tell.

"The curious thing, Doctor," she said, "was that all the time Miss Starling was here with us, Ratigan made no attempt to bother anyone. It was our hope that he thought Miss Starling had left London. For about a month, we were left in peace.

"Then, there came a day in November---a day that Mr. Basil and I shall never forget..."

************************


"Oh, drat!" Elizabeth complained, as she looked over her grandmother's bridal gown. "I so wanted to wear this to my wedding!"

"But child, why can't you?" asked Mrs. Flaherty, who was visiting that day. "Surely you're slender enough to fit into it. And you'd look so lovely, with that high lace collar!"

"Yes, but I'm afraid Grandmama was a bit taller than I. I'll need it hemmed up, and I just haven't the time to do that. And poor Mrs. Judson's been so busy, I simply hate to ask her---"

"Well, I certainly could oblige you, dear," her old landlady offered kindly. "That way, you and I could visit a little when you come to pick it up. I've missed having you for a tenant, child."

The young lady smiled. "I've missed you too, Mrs. Flaherty---you've been like a second mother to me. But I'll be just across the way from you, so there'll be many a time for a visit!"

Hearing her fiancé's voice in the hallway, Elizabeth quickly covered the gown with a spare blanket and handed it to Mrs. Flaherty, just before Basil appeared.

"All right, ladies," he said playfully, "what's the great secret?"

"Mrs. Flaherty is going to alter my wedding gown , that's all," answered his betrothed. "The one that belonged to my grandmother."

"Really? Come, give us a peek---" but Mrs. Flaherty kept it covered up.

"No, no! 'Tis bad luck fer ye t'look at her gown before the nuptials!" said the old woman crossly.

"Oh, come now, Mrs. Flaherty---that's a silly superstition!" scoffed Basil.

"Well, superstition or not, I'd rather you saw it on our wedding day," Elizabeth said pointedly. "I want to be a vision for you."

Basil gently chucked her under the chin. "You already are, dear heart," he whispered as he kissed her on the mouth, while Mrs. Flaherty grunted and shook her head.

"Now, now, good lady," he told her, with a wry smile. "After all, Elizabeth and I are properly pledged. I've even bought the wedding ring already," he said slyly, as he held up a red velvet box.

"What?" cried Elizabeth with delight. "Let me see..." She ran up to look, but Basil held it playfully away.

"Ah, ah!" he said, shaking his finger warningly. "If I can't see your gown, you can't see my ring! You'll just have to wait until the wedding, my love..."

"Oh, you're such a mean one!" she chided, as Basil walked off, laughing boyishly.

"I'll have this mended by late afternoon, lamb," said Mrs. Flaherty.

The young lady hugged her. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Flaherty! I'll come and get it this evening."

Later, she and Basil were sitting together on the couch with their arms around each other, dreaming aloud of their wedding to come.

"I suppose we should move into a larger place after we're married," Basil declared, "though I hate to leave Mrs. Judson...and I really hate to leave Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson."

"What's wrong with staying here, Basil? You have a fine enough place. And I'm happy to live anywhere with you."

"Well, that's quite sweet of you, pet...but once our family starts growing, they'll be needing more room. Though perhaps we could expand the place a bit...meanwhile," he asked, with a mischievous grin, "where shall we go for the honeymoon?"

Elizabeth blushed and giggled. "I haven't even thought of a place...but you don't have
to spoil me."

"You're so easy to please, Elizabeth...that's one of many things I've loved about you. But we've got to go somewhere…"

She looked up at him lovingly, and laid her little white hand on his heart. "What matters to me, Basil darling, is that you and I will be together."

Basil returned her smile, and his lips met her in a long and tender kiss. Just then, the clock struck five.

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Where is my mind? I was supposed to go to Mrs. Flaherty's half an hour ago!"

"But it's getting dark," Basil replied. "Must you go there now? It could wait until tomorrow."

But Elizabeth was afraid that her old landlady would fret and fuss if she didn't come over for a few minutes at least. "Besides, it's only across the street..."

For some reason, though, Basil felt uneasy. "I'll go with you, then," he offered.

She patted his face, with a wry but patient smile. "Now, darling," she scolded, "I quite appreciate your care, but I'm a grown woman. And I'll only be a few minutes..."

"All right," he sighed, "but do hurry back. We'll have plenty of time to visit tomorrow."

He smiled as Elizabeth kissed his cheek and quickly went out; but he still wished he were going with her, much as he hated to keep her like a hothouse flower.

Mrs. Flaherty was most glad to see her former tenant, that she had come to love like a daughter. "Don't fret about coming late, dear," she said kindly. "It was just as well...it gave me extra time to add a few touches."

She held the gown up to Elizabeth. "It should fit you just perfectly... won't you try it on, lamb?"

"I'd love to, Mrs. Flaherty...but Basil's waiting for me. I'll have to do that tomorrow. Could you keep it here, perhaps, so he won't try to peek at it?"

"Of course," replied Mrs. Flaherty. "Oh, I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees you walking to the altar. You'll look like a princess in a fairy tale!"

Just then, there was a knock at the back door.

"That's probably Basil now," sighed Elizabeth, as she quickly laid the gown onto the couch. "I tell you, that man worries too much!"

"Could you get it, dear?" asked her old landlady. "I've got some bread in the oven..." She went quickly into her kitchen, but suddenly stood puzzled.

"Now why would Mr. Basil come to the back door?" she wondered aloud.

"All right, dear...just be patient!" the young lady said, as she went to the back door. But before she could answer, it was roughly kicked open, and the person who strutted in with a cold, cruel smile certainly wasn't Basil...

"Good evening, Elizabeth," said Professor Ratigan, chuckling. "I've missed you..."

************************


It was now half past five, and Basil was worried sick.

"She should have been back by now!" he exclaimed irritably. "Blast it, I knew I should have come with her!"

"But she's all right, isn't she?" insisted Mrs. Judson, though she was also starting to get worried. "Perhaps Mrs. Flaherty kept her there, talking---you know how the woman can be."

However, Basil could not shake off his anxiety. "Something's happened... I feel it in my bones, Mrs. Judson. I've got to go over there, post-haste!"

Hoping that he was wrong, somehow, Basil quickly put on his cape and deerstalker and headed straight for Elizabeth's flat.

When he reached the door, however, he noticed that it was slightly ajar; at the same time, he heard a tapping at Mrs. Flaherty's window. He turned to see the frightened woman shaking her head desperately, and trying to wave him away from the door. But it was too late.

The door swung open before Basil could step back, and several hands grabbed him, yanking him inside. Once again, the detective found himself facing a gang of ruffians, and he was sure they were the same pack that had beaten him that other time. But they had put out all the lights, and even his sharp eyes couldn't make out their faces.

Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen or heard. However, Basil heard Mrs. Flaherty running out of the side entrance, and he hoped she was going for help. The thugs paid no attention, for they had another fish to fry.

Basil grappled bravely with his adversaries, but they soon overpowered him and pinned him to the floor. Even then, he continued to struggle, though he wondered why they weren't beating on him this time...

"Hold 'im! Hold 'im good!" ordered one of the hoodlums, as he poured something from a dark bottle into a rag. "And remember, the boss wants 'im alive--- for now, anyway!"

Basil never saw who shoved the chloroform-soaked cloth over his nose and mouth, but he recognised the voices of Ratigan's men---before everything went black.

************************


As he started to come to, Basil was faintly aware of a familiar voice...

"Well, gents...it appears that Sleeping Beauty is trying to wake up."

"Then, let's help 'im!" yelped someone else, with a vicious chuckle.

Suddenly, Basil felt a bucket full of icy water dashed in his face, and brutal laughter followed. As he struggled to consciousness, coughing and spluttering, he heard Professor Ratigan bawling out his men---though he couldn't have told why.

"Not that way, you imbeciles!" roared the rat. "Look there, now you've gotten his clothes all wet! And he's a very special guest!"

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he leaned over Basil and put a bottle of smelling salts under his nose, until the detective coughed and turned his head away in protest.

"Enough!" gasped Basil. "I'm awake..."

The light in the room hurt his eyes as he tried to open them, but the sight of Ratigan standing over him was infinitely worse. As he glanced around, still dazed, he found himself in a filthy den...flat on his back on the cold, hard floor, tied up tight--and the professor's henchmen leering savagely at him.

"Where's Elizabeth?" he demanded, as he tried to raise himself up. "What have you done with her? Tell me!"

"All in good time," the rat answered smugly. "Meanwhile, did you enjoy your little nap, old boy? After all, we knew you wouldn't come willingly. I'm frightfully sorry..."

"No, you're not," Basil retorted bitterly, but his concern was not for himself. "If you've harmed Elizabeth, you'll have the devil to pay---I swear it!!!"

Ratigan appeared shocked. "Why, Basil---how could you even think that of me? She's quite all right, I assure you! After all," he added smugly, "I wouldn't harm my little bride-to-be..."

"What??!"

Basil was wide awake now. He stared at Ratigan, hoping he had heard wrong; but he saw that the professor was wearing an elegant tuxedo, with a white flower tucked in the buttonhole. The whole den was strewn with coloured crepe paper and flowers, and there was even a wedding cake and champagne.

"That's right, Basil!" replied the rat, with a triumphant smirk. "There's going to be a wedding, after all...but it's my wedding, and Elizabeth's going to marry me!"

As he spoke, Ratigan grabbed Basil's lapels, jerked him up and dumped him into a chair.

"I took the liberty of bringing you here, dear boy, so you could witness the ceremony. You are, shall we say, 'giving the bride away'?"

He chuckled fiendishly as Basil gaped at him in horror.

Suddenly, there was some commotion outside, and the detective saw two mouse thugs dragging in someone with a burlap sack over his head. When they removed it, Basil was appalled to see that their captive was Father Timothy McDowell, who now stared at the detective in confusion and fear.

"What in Heaven's name is going on?" asked the vicar, his voice quavering.

"Have you no decency, Ratigan?" Basil blurted angrily. "To treat a man of the Church that way..."

"I just wanted to make sure everything was done properly, old boy," was Ratigan's nonchalant reply. "That way, my marriage will be a binding contract!"

"You monster!" cried the detective in helpless rage. "And I'd call you worse than that if the vicar wasn't about!"

"Calm yourself, dear boy!" Ratigan scolded mockingly. "We must behave like a little gentleman. After all, there is a lady among us..."

He turned to his men and clapped his hands twice, and about four of them left the room. When they returned, Basil was heartsick to see who they had brought back with them...

There stood his poor Elizabeth in her wedding gown, holding a bouquet. Even her veil could not hide her downcast eyes and the fear in her pretty face, although she was trying to be brave and not to cry...Joan of Arc, amidst the flames.

"Don't look so sad, Elizabeth darling," the rat said complacently, as he patted her little white hand. "After all, I'm doing the honourable thing toward you, aren't I?"

You dare call what you're doing honourable? thought Basil, feeling a murderous fury rise up within him as Ratigan kissed the unhappy woman's face.

"Besides," Ratigan continued, with a most unpleasant grin, "look who we've brought to see you!"

Elizabeth looked up and gasped painfully when she saw Basil, tied up and helpless. As her eyes met the detective's bewildered gaze, she put her hands to her mouth and began to cry...while Ratigan giggled with heartless glee at the look of anguish on Basil's face.

But the professor's laughter faded when Elizabeth turned to him angrily.

"You had to bring him here, didn't you?" she cried accusingly. "You had to make him watch! Have you no pity at all? You promised you'd leave him alone!"

"You should know better," Basil reminded her, "than to trust his promises..."

"Shut up!!!" Ratigan growled, glaring venomously at the detective.

"...or to believe his lies!" Basil added defiantly, as Elizabeth stared dubiously at Ratigan.

"Gag him!!!" the professor ordered his men, who were all too happy to oblige.

"Leave him alone!" Elizabeth pleaded, as they tied a gag firmly around Basil's mouth. "Must you torment him on top of everything else?"

She tried to go to him, but Ratigan held her back.

"You're not his anymore, Elizabeth---you're going to be mine! And don't you give me that look!" he snapped at Basil, who was glaring at him with disgust. "I'll have you know, Basil, that your little sweetheart agreed to this."

Elizabeth looked away in despair as Basil turned to her with hurt and disbelief in his eyes.

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," the unfortunate bride demanded of Ratigan. "Let me go to him...let me put my arms around him and say goodbye to him, at least!"

Ratigan smirked but made no reply.

"You're getting what you wanted!" Elizabeth continued bitterly. "For once, can't you show a little compassion---for my sake, if for no other reason?"

Ratigan looked as if he'd been slapped. But then, he mused smugly, what do I have to lose now?

"Very well, my sweet," he replied, with mock chivalry. "Anything to show you that I'm not the heartless cad Basil made you believe I am. But mind what you say, detective!" he warned Basil, as Elizabeth hurried over to him and pulled the gag from his mouth, kissing him and hugging him hard.

"My poor Basil..." she sobbed.

"Why, Elizabeth? Why??!" Basil whispered, as he laid his face against hers. "I know you don't love him! You love me..."

"He gave me no choice! He kidnapped me from my flat...he said he'd kill you if I didn't marry him...I knew he meant what he said!

"I'll always love you, Basil. Ratigan may have me, but he'll never have my love! I can bear whatever will happen, knowing that you're alive, and safe. But for the rest of my life, I'll love you…only you."

She buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Basil...forgive me! Please, forgive me!"

"There's nothing to forgive, darling...but I beg of you, don't marry him! He'll treat you atrociously..."

"What else can I do? He promised to leave you alone, that he would never harm you..."

"And you believed him?" Basil replied in astonishment. "He and I are sworn enemies, Elizabeth! Our war doesn't end here. And I'd rather die than give you to him!"

As Elizabeth stared at Basil in confusion, Ratigan decided the conversation was over.

"All right, you've said your tender farewells," he sneered. "Now let's get started."

"Elizabeth, don't do it!" Basil pleaded, as Ratigan led the young woman away. "You've fallen for his lies before---are you going to do it again?"

He would have said more, but Ratigan stuffed the gag back into his mouth. It was then that Fr. McDowell spoke up.

"I won't do it!" he blurted angrily. "That poor child doesn't want to marry you, and I won't make her!"

"You'll do as I say!" Ratigan warned, gnashing his teeth viciously. But the vicar glared defiantly at him.

"I'm not afraid of you, Ratigan, nor of what you can do to me," he declared, "any more than I fear the Devil himself!"

"But do you fear for your parishioners, old boy?" Ratigan countered. "Wouldn't it be dreadful if your church just happened to burn down next Sunday---with
everyone in it??”

Fr. McDowell turned pale, knowing that Ratigan wasn't joking. He glanced miserably at Elizabeth, who nodded sadly at him. Opening his missal, he began in a trembling voice.

"Dearly beloved...we are gathered here..."

Some distance away sat a particularly small member of Ratigan's gang— Bartholomew, who had not been present at Elizabeth's abduction, nor Basil's either. A notorious rummy, he had been more interested in helping himself to some of the wedding champagne. Now, as he heard the priest, Bartholomew started crooning a sickly version of The Wedding March.

"Heeeeere...comesh...the bride…hic…Daaaa...da da daaaaa..."

"Stash it, you little moron!" Ratigan barked. "Show some respect!"

He did not yet notice that two other of his henchmen, Clarence and Percy, were missing. Meanwhile, though, Basil managed to work the gag out of his mouth, and again pleaded with Elizabeth to change her mind.

"Don't you remember what we promised each other that night--- the night we were betrothed? That we'd defy him together---even die together if need be!

"Remember, Elizabeth...you and I…always together!"

"That's enough!" snarled the professor, glaring dangerously.

But he could see that Basil's words were already reaching Elizabeth, who had turned to face her beloved detective as she remembered that night, that blessed night, when he had kissed her so tenderly and she had sworn to stay by his side always...

"Besides," Basil informed her, with a contemptful glance at his enemy, "what makes you think he won't kill me anyhow?"

"I said that's enough!!!" screeched Ratigan, as he ran over and struck Basil in the face, then threw him against a large candlestick standing nearby. Both Basil and the candle fell to the floor. But as the cruel professor turned to Elizabeth, she slapped his face.

Stunned, Ratigan just stood rubbing his cheek, gawking at the tiny woman who had stood up to him so rashly. He was far too distracted to notice Basil discreetly backing towards the fallen candle---which was still burning---and stretching his bound wrists toward the flame.

By that time, Fr. McDowell decided he'd had enough, too.

"I don't care what you do!" he said, snapping his missal shut. "I'll have no part of this unholy mockery you call a wedding! I won't sacrifice that innocent girl to you, you devil!"

But just as Ratigan was about to turn on the vicar for defying him, he suddenly heard the slurred voices of Clarence and Percy, who were staggering out from the back room. He glared at them furiously, for they were both quite drunk...like Bartholomew, they had decided to "celebrate" before the wedding.

"You drunken pigs!" he barked at them. "I told you and Bartholomew to save your drinking for the reception!"

"Wha...what'd 'e shay?" Percy asked his tipsy pal.

"The re...sheption," Clarence told him. He belched, then pointed toward Basil with a wicked grin. "You know, Pershy...that's when Boss said ter kill 'at d’tective!”

"What??!" cried Elizabeth. Before Ratigan could stop her, she rushed up to Clarence and demanded, "What did you say?"

Clarence gawked at her stupidly, until she shook him. "What are you going to do to Basil? Tell me!!!"

"Nothing, my dear…nothing!" interrupted Ratigan, grinning uneasily; but she pulled away from him when he tried to put his hands on her shoulders.

"But Boss," Clarence told him, with a slight hiccup, "you said...after the weddin', we take 'at flippin' detective out ter th’ river..."

"...tie a brick to 'im, an' shove 'im in!" Percy finished, with an idiotic giggle. "That be our weddin' present to yer, Pr'fesser..."

Elizabeth whirled around to face Ratigan, her eyes now blazing with righteous anger. Startled by such behaviour from her, he began stammering excuses like a frightened little boy---that had been caught being very naughty.

"My dear...you're not going to believe those fools, are you? It's only a joke...we'll let Basil go! That's my wedding gift to you, my love..."

Giggling nervously, he leaned forward to kiss her, only for her to spit in his face.

Good girl, Basil thought, watching her proudly, yet praying she wouldn’t go
any farther.

But all the grief and humilation Elizabeth had suffered, and seen Basil suffer, had come to a head---and now, she would not be held back.

"You thought you could murder Basil and have me too! You lied to me, as you always have...and I was foolish enough to believe you! But no more! I'll never be under your power again, Ratigan!"

Elizabeth ran over to untie Basil; but Ratigan grabbed her and shoved her away from him. The rat's face was wild with jealousy and desperation.

"I could give you everything, Elizabeth—everything!!!" he shrieked.

"I don't want your 'everything' ! I want the man I love...and it'll never be you!"

"How can you love him? Don't you see? He's poisoned your mind against me!"

"You did that yourself, Ratigan," Elizabeth told him coldly. "And now I know why you hate Basil so much---for the same reason that I love him: because he's gentle and kind, and decent---everything that you're not!

"If you want to kill him, Ratigan, then you'll have to kill me, too---because I'd rather die with Basil than be the wife of---"

No, Elizabeth! Don't say it! Basil wanted to shout.

"---a cruel, depraved sewer rat!!!"

There was a gasp from the band of mouse thugs, and even Basil gaped in alarm, knowing the fat was really in the fire now...

Ratigan turned pale, as if with shock. He stared maniacally at Elizabeth, her last words seeming to hang in the air...and for a few seconds, nobody moved.

Then a demonic fury took hold of Ratigan. Seizing Elizabeth by the throat, his cruel, hard paw slammed across her pretty face over and over, while he called her the vilest names he could think of. When the vicar tried to stop him, Ratigan knocked him down.

Rage now exploded in Basil's soul. With a strength he never knew he possessed, he broke the ropes loose and rushed at his enemy, drop-kicking his stomach as hard as he could. When the rat doubled over in pain, Basil struck him so hard across the face that
he skinned his knuckles.

He ran over to where the vicar, now recovered, sat holding Elizabeth. Basil swept her up in his arms, gently kissing her bleeding mouth and bruised cheeks, as she clung to him desperately.

"Oh, Basil...Basil..." she sobbed over and over.

"It's all right..." he whispered comfortingly, as he had that day on the moors. "It's all right, love...I won't let him hurt you any more."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the professor trying to approach. Quickly, Basil grabbed a bread knife laying on a table nearby and pointed it at Ratigan, looking like some avenging angel as he stood protectively before Elizabeth.

"You touch her again," Basil declared between his teeth, "and I'll kill you!!!"

Ratigan said nothing at the moment, but fixed a deadly eye on the detective, like a viper about to strike.

Without taking his eyes off of his enemy, Basil ordered Fr. McDowell to leave. "Take Elizabeth with you," he added.

The vicar gently took the girl's arm, but she shook him off. "Forgive me, Father," she pleaded, "but I'm staying with Basil."

"Do as I ask, Elizabeth—please!" Basil implored her. "It's between Ratigan and I now. Get out while you can---it isn't your war!"

"It is now."

Elizabeth stubbornly held on to him, smiling defiantly at Ratigan. "We're in this together, Basil--- just as you said. And I'm not afraid anymore..."

Oh, Elizabeth...what have I gotten you into? Basil thought with despair, but he made no further argument.

"Then stay behind me, love," he said gently. "I'll try to get us out of here..."

Ratigan glared furiously at the young couple. "So it's finally happened, hasn't it, Basil?" he snarled. "You've turned Elizabeth against me, just as I knew you would!"

Basil only stared coldly at him.

"You're quite the brave fellow," Ratigan spat sarcastically. "Pointing a weapon at me, when I'm not even armed!"

As he spoke, his right hand made a discreet little gesture behind him. If Basil failed to notice, Elizabeth didn't---and her blood froze, for she knew exactly what Ratigan was up to.

She glanced over at his pack, just in time to see Chauncey pull a gun out of his coat and aim it straight for Basil's heart.

"Noooo!!!" screamed Elizabeth, pushing Basil aside and rushing out in front of him---just as Chauncey fired.

In one terrible moment, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The two men turned to see Elizabeth stumble and cry out as the bullet struck her body. She fell, whimpering, her eyes meeting Basil's as he caught her in his arms...

For several seconds, Basil could not speak. He and Ratigan could only stare in shock
and disbelief---the first time they had been in harmony on anything. The only time.

It will never be known why Ratigan behaved the way he did that moment— whether it was his selfish desire for Elizabeth, or if somewhere in his wicked heart there had been
a spark of real tenderness...

"Elizabeth..." he said softly as he stepped towards her, reaching out to her.

But the wounded girl saw him and shrank back in terror, as if he were some horrid demon trying to claim her soul. As she buried herself in Basil's embrace, he gave Ratigan such a look of hatred that it should have stopped the rat's heart instantly.

"It wasn't me, Basil!" blurted the professor, aghast at the murderous glare. But
as if he had suddenly remembered, he turned to stare at Chauncey, still holding the pistol. Seeing the insane fury in Ratigan's face, the mouse thug's sneer melted into a grimace of terror.

"She---she got in th; way," he blubbered. "'Twarn't mah fault, Pr'fesser...I was aimin' fer him!"

Bartholomew began to whimper, while the others gawked in terror, as Ratigan slowly advanced upon his cowering henchman. As Ratigan lunged for his throat, Chauncey leapt back and ran out, screaming like a woman, with the professor and his gang in hot pursuit.

Basil's eyes were only on Elizabeth, as he pulled off his ascot and tried to stanch the bleeding from her wound.

"Please..." she begged pitifully. "Take me home...I don't want to die here..."

"Mr. Basil!" called Fr. McDowell, pointing to a tunnel he had just found.

The fallen candle was still burning, and it gave Basil an idea. Quickly picking Elizabeth up, he stamped on the wick, plunging the room into darkness. Only a streak of moonlight revealed any movements as Ratigan, who hadn't forgotten his prisoners, came back just in time to see them escaping...and as Basil hurried out with Elizabeth in his arms, the tunnel echoed with Ratigan's animal shriek of rage.

End Part V