``Glance ere away the boat quite passed,

``And neither time nor toil could mar

``Those features: so I saw the last

``Of Waring!''~~~You? Oh, never star

Robert Browning, "Waring"

It was early morning and Archer was out in the gardens, enjoying a rare morning off. He sat on a low stone bench and enjoyed what little sun there was shining from the rapidly greying skies when he spotted Mr Smith coming up the lawn at a brisk pace. What surprised him was that he was not alone: in his company was a woman that seemed to be slightly older than him with an elegant cut to her red hair, and a young girl -around seventeen- who reminded Archer of the Indian woman he had seen in London once with her dusky skin and dark hair. Both women were dressed most scandalously, in trousers and jackets. For a moment he was rather horrified at the women's appearance, but then thought that maybe they were Americans. Americans were, after all, complete nutters. Or so he had been told. Archer had never met any Americans himself and so didn't know anything beyond what the other servants had said. But he still stood up and went to greet them, wanting to at least hear Mr Smith tell him "good day". He had missed him terribly in the short time he had been gone.

Mr Smith proved stressed but polite, introducing his companions to Archer. The girl was Miss Rani Chandra (and Archer felt rather pleased at correctly guessing her to be Indian) and the woman was Miss Sarah Jane Smith1. At first, hearing her name, Archer had felt unreasonably unhappy thinking she was Mr Smith's wife, but when she emphasised the Miss he concluded that she was most likely his sister, and the girl her ward. They seemed to be nice enough, and Miss Smith was clearly British. Maybe they had just returned from India and had not gotten used to proper English dress code yet. One must make allowances for people who had spent time abroad in uncivilized countries. The girl spoke excellent English and seemed rather intelligent, probably she had been tutored by English people in India. He had heard of rich Indians being able to give their children proper educations: Miss Rani must come from such a family. But it was still surprising to see a girl with such skills - the only Indians he had heard of receiving proper education had been boys2. Mr Smith excused himself and his family and hurried on towards the main school building, leaving Archer behind to puzzle over the sympathetic look Miss Smith had given him. It was most perplexing.

The day dragged on relentlessly, even though Archer was only functioning with about half a brain. The rest of his brain was puzzling over why Mr Smith had been in such a hurry - and why he was absent at dinner. Perhaps he was dining in his rooms with Miss Chandra and his sister, but he had not seen a tray prepared for them. Therefore, when he finally returned to the kitchens, he decided to take his chances disturbing Cook.

"Should I take a tray up for Mr Smith and his guests?" He asked nervously, and shrank away from the glare Cook levelled on him.

"I already had Martha do it." She said surly, and Archer nodded and lowered his gaze to the wash basin. He felt strangely unhappy at someone else serving the enigmatic Londoner, and chastised himself harshly for it. What rights did he have to Mr Smith? None. And if he was found out harbouring such immortal thoughts of one of Scotland Yard's finest, well, he knew what would happen to him then. Prison, if he was lucky, but most likely a swift execution of a one-way-ticket to Australia3. In any case, it would mean the ruin for his poor mother, who was already sick. If he did not send her his pay check, what would become of her then? And she would have to bare the shame of having a faggot for a son! It was unthinkable. Impossible. He must forget Mr Smith as soon as possible. Besides, the man would surely leave once he had complete his investigation. The thought if this was no comfort, however: in fact, it made Archer feel as though he was about to cry. He hunched over the wash basin and prayed that no one would disturb him, so that they would not see the tears dripping down into the soapy water.

After having finished his chores for the night, Archer found himself feeling unusually restless and decided to go for a walk around the grounds and down to the shore, which was one of his favourite spots to be alone and think. The shore was not a good place for swimming since the shoreline was littered with sharp rocks and algae. The water was also frigidly cold all year around, not a place you wanted to spend any time at. However, there was still a lighthouse on a little island a bit from the shore, abandoned now, but in olden days there had been a lighthouse keeper living there with his family. This was back when there had been an active quay here. But since the fishing dried up, most of the people living in the little village had left and there had no longer been any use for a lighthouse. Archer liked to walk down by the shore, looking at the lighthouse and fancy himself living there: alone, at peace, with his books and the never-ending sky as his companions. It was a dear daydream of his, fanciful and unrealistic. If nothing else than because he had no money and owned no books apart from an old bible his mother had given him when he left to take up his current position. He pulled his thin coat tighter around his thin frame and promised himself for what must be the hundredth time to ask one of the servant girls to help him sew in new buttons as he carefully climbed the slope down to the beach. It was a traitorous path, wet and slippery, but soon he stood on the rocks where he was reasonably safe from falling. He could still ruin his shoes if he not careful, but Archer had walked this shore so many times that he knew where he could safely put his feet.

He had not walked for more than fifty feet at the most, when he saw something that made him stop cold. There was a light shining in the lighthouse: a lighthouse that had been abandoned for close to thirty years, since the old lighthouse master had died and his family moved away. There had been no point in appointing a new lighthouse keeper, so the building had been left abandoned to time and the elements. But now the beacon in the tower shone as bright as Archer fancied it must have shone in its heyday, when ships were coming in at all times of the day and night, needing the light to avoid hitting the sharp cliffs and rocks littering the area. Archer stood on the shore, staring at the light in fascination and confusion, when he much to his surprise heard his name called. He startled, and turned around only to see Miss Rani come towards him. She was dressed in an outfit that made his face turn red with embarrassment: the fabric was some sort of shiny black material he had never seen before and covered her entire body, sitting tight against her flesh and leaving no cause for imagining what lay beneath her clothes. She might has well have walked around naked! Around her neck hung a small pouch of what seemed to be the same shiny material, and in her hand was a heavy bowl that almost looked spherical4.

"M-miss Rani!" Archer stuttered and panicked for a moment that he was using her first name: had he made a terrible blunder? Surely he did not know the lady well enough. "I apologize, Miss Chandra, I did not mean to presume-" he could hear the plea in his own voice and cringed. She could have him fired for being too familiar with her, and he desperately needed the salary! Miss Rani - no, Miss Chandra - gave him a gentle smile, most likely meant to soothe and calm him.

"My name is Rani" she said. "You don't need to call me miss. Or Chandra" Archer blushed.

"That is most improper!" He protested. She shrugged.

"If you say so." she said, then walked down to the water. She flinched as the cold swept in around her legs, then schooled her features in an expression that could only be called determined. She turned to Archer. "If anyone but the Doctor asks if you have seen me, you have no idea what they are talking about. Understood?" Archer looked at her helplessly.

"Miss Rani" he hesitated, unsure of the familiarity, but when she did not seem to mind he pressed on. "Forgive me for asking - but who is the Doctor?" He felt very silly, but he needed to know. Miss Chandra looked at him oddly. Then her pretty face transformed as she smiled at him, and for a moment he was completely dazzled by her beauty. But, his heart insisted, she did not hold a candle to John Smith.

"I think you know him as Mr Smith" she said, before pulling the odd bowl over her head and attaching some sort of tube to it. On her back were strapped two larger tubes that were as dark as the shiny material of her outfit. Then she waded into the water and - before Archer could react - she had disappeared beneath the dark waves. The only sign that she had been there was the ripples of the water's surface where she had submerged.

Archer waited on the shoreline with increasing anxiety for Miss Rani to return. The light still shone with the same strength as when he had arrived, although his wristwatch (the only thing he had from his late father) showed him that nearly two hours had passed. Still no sign of Miss Rani, and he tried very hard not to panic. She had said not to tell anyone where she was or what she was doing, but surely no living creature could hold their breath for two hours! He wrung his hands, fearing that he through his inaction had caused the death of the poor girl nearly made him faint with despair, but he clung to the hope the mysterious tubes on her back were some sort of modern invention that helped her do whatever it was she had been out to do. None the less, he wrung his hands in his anxiety, pacing the shore as he waited. He dared not leave without seeing her safe return. He was numb to the cold by this point, and no longer consciously aware of the water coming in and soaking his shoes and socks. All he could think of was the girl somewhere out there in the waters.

After what seemed like an eternity, he suddenly saw a dark figure emerge from the waves and for a moment he felt the terror of a hare in the foxes' den. Then he realised that the odd shape was the bowl Miss Rani had put over her head before submerging into the waters and that it was, in fact, her that came towards him. She removed the odd bowl and smiled at him in triumph,

"I got them!" She crowed with glee, sounding as if she had done something marvellous. Archer felt helplessly confused.

"Got what?" He asked, feeling faint from relief that she seemed to be alright. Miss Rani touched the pouch hanging around her neck, and Archer saw that it seemed to have contents now where previously it had appeared empty.

"The bottles the Doctor asked me to get!" She said happily. "I found them - and they didn't notice me!" Archer felt even more confused now.

"Who are they?" He asked, helplessly. Miss Rani shook her head.

"I don't know." she said. "The Doctor wouldn't tell us, he said he needs to be completely sure before he makes any sort of accusation." She started walking towards the school, and Archer found no alternative except following her. They walked back in silence, the only noise in the night apart from their footsteps being the clinking of glass bottles in the pouch around Miss Rani's neck.

1 The women introduced here are Sarah Jane Smith, ex-companion to the 4th Doctor, and Rani Chandra who lives on her street and is a good friend of her son Luke. Both characters are taken from The Sarah Jane Adventures. Wonderful show, you should watch it if you haven't already.

2 Please do not think the author or Archer to be racist, we are not! Archer is simply expressing views common in these times. Remember that he is an Englishman of questionable education and very much a man of his time!

3 Sodomy, or Buggery if you prefer, was punishable by death until 1861. It was illegal until 1967. Oscar Wilde was jailed and sentenced to two years of hard labour for his relations with Lord Alfred Douglas 1895. Archer's fears are most definitely not unfounded, but he most likely would not have been sent to Australia.

4 For those of you who aren't as quick catching on: Rani's wearing diving gear. Old-fashioned diving gear.