CHAPTER THE EIGHTH.
AN ISLAND WITHOUT A DOCTOR.
I had not time to feel any fear, for, almost before I could realize the fact that I was falling, I touched the ground.

The point from which I had slipped was above the reach of the water, but I fell upon the shingly beach so heavily that I was hardly conscious for a few minutes.
When I came to my senses again, I lay still for a little while, trying to make out where I was, and how I came there.

I was stunned and bewildered.

Underneath me were the smooth, round pebbles, which lie above the line of the tide on a shore covered with shingles.

Above me rose a dark, frowning rock, the chilly shadow of which lay across me.
Without lifting my head I could see the water on a level with me, but it did not look on a level; its bright crested waves seemed swelling upward to the sky, ready to pour over me and bury me beneath them.