Peter, who understood the language better than he could speak it, returned a laughing bow at Ben's compliment, but made no further reply. Possibly he was scant of breath at the time.
"Now, Penchamin, vat you do mit yourself? get so hot as a fire-brick—dat ish no goot," was Jacob's plaintive comment.
"Nonsense!" answered Ben. "This frosty air will cool me soon enough. I am not tired."
"You are beaten, though, my boy," said Lambert in English, "and fairly, too. How will it be, I wonder, on the day of the grand race?"
Ben flushed, and gave a proud, defiant laugh, as if to say:
"This was mere pastime. I'm determined to beat then, come what will!"