The Frenchman, on the contrary, was a stayer.
It looked bad for Murray.
On they went, and when a good mile had been covered, Murray, on glancing back, felt convinced that it was only a question of time.
He must tire out the Frenchman in the end, he thought.
He believed that an Englishman must always be more than a match for a Frenchman at any kind of athletics.
He reckoned without his host, for while he (Murray) was getting blown, Lenoir swung on at pas gymnastique, having got his second wind, and being, to all appearance, capable of keeping on for any length of time.
"I shall have to give it up," gasped Murray, when, at the end of the second mile, he looked over his shoulder again.
An unpleasant fact revealed itself.
While he was faltering, the Frenchman was rather improving his pace.
Yes.