When the cholera had been raging for some days, Mary Seacole despatched a messenger to bring a medical man to the place; but the Spaniard who arrived in response to the summons was horror-stricken at the terrible scenes, and incapable of rendering any assistance. Mary Seacole was compelled, therefore, to continue her noble work unaided. One evening she had just settled down to a brief rest when a mule-owner came and implored her to come at once to his kraal, as several of his men had been attacked with cholera. Now Mary Seacole had been visiting patients throughout the day and the previous night, but without the slightest hesitation she went out into the rain and made her way to the sick muleteers, whom she found in a veritable plague-spot. Men and mules were all in one room, and the stench was so great that a feeling of sickness came over her as she stood at the door. But with an effort she overcame the feeling, and entering flung open the windows, doors and shutters. Then, as the much-needed fresh air poured in, she looked around. Two men she saw at once were dying, but there were others whom she thought there was a possibility of saving, and these she attended to at once. For many hours she remained in this strangely crowded room, and when she did quit it she only went away for an hour's sleep. On her return to the plague-spot she found fresh patients awaiting her, one, a little baby, who in spite of her efforts died. Everything was against Mary Seacole in this pestilential stable, but nevertheless she was the means of saving some lives. At length, when the plague was dying out, the brave woman who had so nobly fought the disease was herself stricken with it, but happily for the British army she recovered. Throughout the plague Mary Seacole had treated rich and poor alike. The centless man and the down-trodden muleteer received as much attention from her as the wealthy diggers returning home with their bags of gold dust. The latter paid her liberally for having tended them, but the majority of her patients had nothing but thanks to give her. Possibly she appreciated the latter most, for some of her rich patients seemed to think that having rewarded her they had wiped out the debt of gratitude.