“Help! We need a doctor! Is there a doctor on the train?"
Hearing the commotion, Grace Treverton opened the window of her compartment and, looking out, saw the reason for the unscheduled stop: A man was lying beside the tracks.
"What is it?" said Lady Rose as her sister-in-law Grace reached
for the medical bag.
"A man is hurt."
"Oh, dear."
Grace paused before leaving the car. Rose wasn't looking good. Her skin had taken on a disturbing pallor in the last hour. They were only eighty miles out of Mombasa, the seaport where they had boarded the train, and they would not arrive at Voi, their dinner stop, for several more miles. "You should eat something, Rose," Grace said, giving a significant look to Fanny, Rose's lady's maid. "And drink something. I'll just quickly see to that poor man."
"I'm quite all right," Rose said a trifle breathlessly. She dabbed her forehead with a perfumed handkerchief and rested her hands on her abdomen.
Grace hesitated a moment longer. If there was something wrong, especially with the baby, Rose could not be depended upon to admit it. Giving another look to Fanny, which said, Stay close to
your mistress,Grace hurried out of the carriage.
The desert sun and dust engulfed her at once. After weeks of being cooped up on board the ship and these past eighty miles confined to the tiny train compartment, Grace felt momentarily dizzied by the vast African sky.
When she reached the stricken man, a group had gathered around him, talking in a mixture of English, Hindi, and Swahili. Grace said, "Pardon me, please," and tried to push through.
"Stay away, miss. 'Tain't no sight for a lady." A man turned to stop her, and his eyebrows shot up.
"I might be able to help," she said, sidestepping him. "I'm a doctor."
The other men now looked at her in surprise, and when she knelt next to the fallen man, they all fell silent.
They had never seen a woman dressed so strangely.