id Bors, who would much
rather have said something else. "We can't possibly do anything adequate
in return. Why _did_ you come?"

He turned to Morgan, who answered blandly, "One of our Talents
precognized an event. We had to come here and help it to happen. Gwenlyn
was doubtful, but she's come around."

"What was it?"

"It hasn't happened yet," said Morgan. He produced a cigar and lighted
it. "Gwenlyn, shall I tell him?"

"Don't you dare!" said Gwenlyn hotly.

Bors said unhappily, "I'm sorry you're going away, Gwenlyn. If things
were--different, I--I--"

"You what?" asked Morgan. "By the way! One of our Talents has
precognized that your uncle's going back to Tralee as its king again.
Largely on your account. You're his heir, aren't you?"

Bors blinked.

"Hero," said Morgan, waving his hand. "Twenty-two planets adoring you,
believing you brought Mekin down single-handed. Aching to work with you,
follow you, admire you. Naturally, Tralee wants your uncle back. Then
they'll have you. Of course," he added complacently, "our Department for
Disseminating Truthful Seditious Rumors had something to do with it. But
that was necessary wartime propaganda. And you didn't let anybody down."
Then he said peevishly, "Not until now!"

Bors gaped. He looked at Gwenlyn. Her cheeks were crimson. Revelation
struck Bors like a blow.

"I don't believe it!" he said, staring at her. He said more loudly, "I
don't believe it!"

"Damnit," said Morgan indignantly. "She didn't believe it either! She
said she'd come here because she was curious, nothing more. But that
particular Talent's never missed yet! She just plain _knows_ every time
who--"

"Hush!" said Gwenlyn fiercely. "Goodbye."

Bors moved toward her, not to shake hands. She ran out of the door. She
ran fast, for a girl. He ran faster.

Morgan puffed contentedly. Presently the completely unreal figure of
King Humphrey the Eighth came to where Morgan had surrounded himself
with aromatic smoke.

"Where's Bors?" asked the king.

"Yonder," said Morgan. He waved his hand. "Kissing my daughter, I think.
D'you know, Majesty, I've known this would happen all along? One of our
Talents precognized you opening parliament next year. So I knew things
had to come out right."

"Y-yes," said the king, dubiously. "I suppose so. But there had to be
efforts, too, to bring it about. Otherwise it wouldn't seem right."

"Naturally!" said Morgan. "When one of my Talents precognized that