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"A troop of phantoms
in knightly armour,
skull faces grinning
from their helmets."
The Gentle Werewolf
By SEABURY QUINN
A remarkably gentle creature—that werewolf. But she was a lady
And the lady was in love.
And the lady was in love.
SPRING had come to Galilee and summer was not far behind. Already the plain of Jordan was showing brown and bare, a desert of dun sand and dust with here and there a patch of wiry goat-grass, but in the foothills of the Lebanons the fresh soft verdure washed the slopes with a green tide that broke into a froth of blossoms on the flat crests of the knolls. Southward, in Cairo the Magnificent, the Sultan Baibas plotted war, but the citizens of Acre paid small heed to warnings brought by spies and friendly Arabs. Since Saint Louis and his hard-fight-
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