"My dear girl," the Queen said, with the faintest trace of impatience, "I do not feel the least bit tired, and this is such an exciting day that I just don't want to miss any of it. Besides, I've already told you I don't want a nap. It isn't polite to be insistent to your Queen--no matter how strongly you feel about a matter. I'm sure you'll learn to understand that, dear." Lady Barbara opened her mouth, shut it again, and opened it once more. "My goodness," she said. "That's the idea," Her Majesty said approvingly. "Think before you speak--and then don't speak. It really isn't necessary, since I know what you're thinking." Malone said grimly: "About this new telepath ... this Barry Miles. Did they find him--" "In a nut-house?" Her Majesty said sweetly. "Why, of course, Sir Kenneth. You were quite right when you thought that telepaths went insane because they had a sense they couldn't effectively use, and because no one believed them. How would you feel, if nobody believed you could see?" "Strange," Malone admitted. "There," Her Majesty said. "You see? Telepaths do go insane--it's sort of an occupational disease. Of course, not all of them are insane." "Not all of them?" Malone felt the faint stirrings of hope. Perhaps they would turn up a telepath yet who was completely sane and rational. "There's me, of course," Her Majesty said. Lady Barbara gulped audibly. Boyd said nothing, but gripped the wheel of the car more tightly. And Malone thought to himself: _That's right. There's Queen Elizabeth--who says she isn't crazy._ And then he thought of one more sane telepath. But the knowledge did not make him feel any better. It was, of course, the spy. How many more are going to turn up? Malone wondered. "Oh, that's about all of us," the Queen said. "There is one more, but she's in a hospital in Honolulu, and your men won't find her until tomorrow." [Illustration: Sir Thomas Boyd ... looking majestic.] Boyd turned. "Do you mean you can foretell the future, too?" he asked in a strained voice. Lady Barbara screamed: "Keep your eyes on the wheel and your hands on the road!" "What?" Boyd said. There was a terrific blast of noise, and a truck went by in the opposite direction. The driver, a big, ugly man with no hair on his head, leaned out to curse at the quartet, but his mouth remained open. He stared at the four Elizabethans and said nothing at all as he whizzed by. "What was that?" Boyd asked faintly. "That," Malone snapped, "was a truck. And it was due entirely to the mercy of God that we didn't hit it. Barbara's right. Keep your eyes on the wheel and your hands on the road." He paused and thought that over. Then he said: "Does that mean anything at all?" "Lady Barbara was confused by the excitement," the Queen said calmly. "It's all right now, dear." Lady Barbara blinked across the seat. "I was--afraid," she said. "It's all right," the Queen said. "I'll take care of you."