He looked to his right and saw that Trounce had also mounted and was in the act of slipping his cane into the holder affixed for that purpose to the vehicle's frame.
Both men released the brakes. The piston arms moved slowly at first but rapidly picked up speed, the crank pins whirled, steam hissed, the men engaged the gears, and the velocipedes went panting into the road.
"Spring Heeled Jack made mention of the fact that the mist had cleared and the sun was up," called Burton, as they clattered toward Mickleham. "It seemed significant to him."
"Are you suggesting that he can't vanish at night?" returned Trounce.
"No. Remember, the first time I saw him he did vanish at night!"
"Then what?"
"I don't know!"
"This business presents one confounded puzzle after another!" exclaimed Trounce.
They came to the outskirts of Chislehurst, rode through the town, now abustle with the morning market, out the other side, and down a country lane toward the village.
The mist had dispersed entirely and the sky was a jumbled mass of clouds with patches of blue sky occasionally peeking through.
From the brow of a low hill, Burton recognised Mickleham ahead, and a few minutes later he and Detective Inspector Trounce parked their velocipedes at the side of the same field the king's agent had landed in earlier that morning.
The two constables were still on duty by the gate of the ramshackle cottage. It was to this that Trounce led Burton.
The Yard man knocked on the front door and it was opened by a man in corduroy trousers, shirt, and suspenders, with tousled hair, long sideburns, and wire-framed spectacles.
"Police?" he asked, in a lowered voice.
"Yes, sir. I'm Detective Inspector Trounce of Scotland Yard. This is my associate, Captain Burton. You are Mr. Tew?"
"Yes. Edward. Come in."
They stepped across the threshold and found that the door opened directly into a fairly cramped and low-roofed sitting room. On a threadbare sofa, a pretty young girl lay within her mother's protective embrace. The woman was large, matronly, tearful, and shaking uncontrollably. The girl was wide-eyed and, thought Burton, rather too thin.
"Angela, these are policemen from London," said Edward Tew, gently.
"She can't speak. She's too upset," interrupted the mother. "I know what she feels! I know!"
"Quiet now, Tilly," said Tew. "The girl is calm enough now. Go make a pot of tea; give the gentlemen room to sit down."
"No! Leave her alone. I-she-she can't talk!"
"Yes I can, Mother," whispered the girl.
The woman turned and kissed her daughter's cheek; held her hands.
"Are you sure? You don't have to. It'll just be questions, questions, questions!"
"Tilly, please!" snapped Edward Tew.
"It's all right, Mother," whispered the girl.
With a sniff and lowered eyes, the mother nodded, stood, and left the room.
"Sit with your daughter, Mr. Tew," said Trounce, gesturing to the sofa as he lowered himself onto a wooden chair next to a small table on which a vase of flowers stood. Tew did so, while Burton sat in the single armchair.
"Now then, it's Angela, isn't it?" the detective asked, in a kindly voice.
"Yes, sir," answered the girl, quietly.
"Would you tell me what happened? Try not to miss anything out. Every detail is important."
Angela Tew nodded, and her throat worked convulsively for a moment.
"I work as maid for the Longthorns, sir, them what lives in the grand old house on Saint Paul's Wood Hill. I was agoing there this morning and left here at-at-"
"At about ten to five," put in her father. "She works from five in the morning until two in the afternoon. Go on, Angey."
"So I took me the short cut through Hoblingwell Wood."
"Isn't it rather dark at that time of morning?" asked Trounce. "Dark, I mean, to be wandering through the woods?"
"It's very dark, sir, aye, but the path is straight and I takes an oil lamp with me to light the way. I goes that way all the time, I does."
"And what happened?"
"I was a good way along the path when a man stepped out from the trees. I couldn't see him properly, so I lifted the lamp and I says, `Who's that there?' Then I saw he was very tall and had big long legs like one of them circus folks what walks on sticks. I tells you, sir, round here we all know the stories about the ghost what's called Spring Heeled Jack and I ain't stupid. I saw what he was and recognised him straight off from the tales. So I turned and started arunning as fast as I could but I hardly got two steps afore he grabbed me up from behind and clapped his hand over me mouth. Then he-he-"
She put her arm across her face, hiding her eyes in her elbow. "I can't say it, Father!"
Edward Tew patted his daughter's back and looked pleadingly at Detective Inspector Trounce. The Yard man nodded and Tew took up the story.
"Jumping Jack took the neck of her dress at the front and ripped it down to her waist, taking her underclothes with it. He turned her and bent her backward, putting his face-" A muffled sob came from the girl and Tew blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing. He looked at his two visitors and touched the middle of his chest.
"Here," he whispered.
Burton clenched his jaw. The girl was only fifteen!
She looked up suddenly, and angrily smeared the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.
"He bent me backward until I thought I might break in half. Then he let me up a little, looked into me face with them terrible eyes of his, and he said: `Not you."'
The king's agent leaned forward eagerly. "Miss Tew, this is very important: are you absolutely sure that's what he said?"
She nodded. "Clear as a bell it was. `Not you!' he said. Then he let go of me and hopped away like a horrible big cricket."
"Before you screamed?"
"Yes. I didn't give voice, sir, until I was at the garden gate. I was arunning too hard."
Burton and Trounce looked at one another.
"Did he say anything else?" asked Burton, turning back to the girl.
"Nothing, sir."
"Can you describe him for me?"
The girl gave a description that exactly matched the man Burton had just encountered in Marvel's Wood.
A few minutes later, the two men left the cottage. As he stepped out, Burton cast a glance back and saw the mother, Tilly Tew, standing in the opposite doorway. She was looking at him with a strangely furtive expression on her face.
They opened the gate and walked back into the field.
"Odd," said Trounce. "In past attacks, he's always done a bunk after being interrupted. You'll remember the case of Mary Stevens, for example. She screamed, people came running, and Jack skedaddled."
"Probably not the same Jack, Inspector."
"Well, be that as it may, this time he put his hand over her mouth, the assault was conducted in relative silence, and no one came to her assistance. Yet he didn't-for want of a better expression-go all the way. Instead, he tore her dress and got a good eyeful-but then let her go. Why?"
"He said, 'Not you'-which suggests he was looking for a specific girl and got the wrong one. I have to return to London. Can I take one of the rotorchairs?"
"Help yourself. Park it outside your house and I'll send a constable along for it later. What's your next move?"
"Sleep. I'm exhausted and my malaria is threatening to take hold. And you?"
"I'm going to talk some more with the Tew family. I'm looking for a link between his victims."