He started to run at last, slow at first, but gathering pace for his final leap.
Amid breathless silence he sprang forward and reached the bar, and then--then he coolly pulled up and walked back again.

This looked bad; but better to pull up in time than spoil his chance.

He kept us waiting an age before he was ready to start again, but at last he turned for his last effort.

We could tell long before he got to the bar that this time, at any rate, he was going to jump, whether he missed or no.

Jump he did, and, to our unbounded delight, just cleared the bar--so narrowly that it almost shook as he skimmed over it.