“There is always the cattle business,” he said finally, pointing to the cows. “I am not joking, Aaron,” cried Jonah impatiently. His tone caused his younger brother to sit up, and to regard him with a curious expression. “Are you in earnest, Jonah?” he asked. “Do you really mean to settle down? I thought you would never leave the desert. Are you going to be married? Good Heavens....” Jonah replied carefully, with his eyes on the ground, “No ... what an idea. I may leave the desert for a while, but only to be with our mother. As for marriage ... well, to tell the truth, I had heard it said of you....” “Of me?” cried Aaron with wide-open eyes. “You are dreaming, Jonah, the heat has touched you. A wife, for me? Why, I could only afford a poor girl from the village. No, when I marry I mean to take a wife from town. But that will cost a good deal. One pays for a wife in Israel; perhaps you have forgotten that.” “You are right,” said Jonah; “I had forgotten it.” And he turned home again. His thoughts were grave, and he walked slowly, with a serious air. At the entrance to the village he passed the statue of a winged bull, before which lay the remains of a sacrifice of cereal, which was being enjoyed by some birds. Jonah looked for a long time at the idol which seemed to gaze back at him with an ironic expression. “Perhaps,” he said sadly at last, “it is I, not you, who am a stranger here in Israel.” And he felt a coldness lay itself upon his heart. VII Moonlight covered the earth, the trees showered down their perfume of blossom and cedar, the fragrance of lilies rose through the night. Voices sang softly in the shadows, teased, laughed, whispered in the moonlight; lamps shone, light fell upon trees. In Deborah’s kitchen Uncle David passed around cakes, fruits, and bitter almonds, and helped the guests to wine, milk, and honey. He was a genial host; his eyes shone, he urged every one to enjoy himself. Deborah moved among her friends, anxious and happy. She kept one eye on Uncle David, and had something to say to everybody. “Well, this is like old times. This is what peace does for a country.” “What a lovely night.” “We should have such a war every year.” “A son to be proud of.” Under a tree in the garden two old men were discussing religion. They pulled at their long beards and gazed at each other with indignation. “God belongs to Israel,” said one; “do not lend Him around.” The other replied: “Does the earth belong to the tree? Does the air belong to the wind? Can I lend the sky? How many gods are there, then?” First old man: “Maybe a hundred, maybe two hundred. There is nothing in the Laws of Moses which says how many. Do you wish to dispute with the Holy One Himself?” Second old man: “As for that, I am not the disputer. I simply say of God, ‘He is everywhere, and He does not look like anything.’ But you say, ‘No. He is here, and He looks like a Jew.’”