Jonah rose slowly to his feet. His eyes blazed, and his hands were tightly clenched. “Oh,” he cried bitterly, all the passion in his heart storming out at last in a torrent of despair, “You ... what are You God of? Were You God of Israel when a Tyrian stole my love? Was I Your prophet then? Have You power over Tyre, that You let Your servant suffer such anguish? Or are You God of the desert, where the demons mock me night and day, where the very stones cry out against me, and the whole night is noisy with laughter? Nineveh ... Nineveh ... in whose name shall I cry out against Nineveh? Do the gods of Assur visit their wrath upon Jerusalem? What power have You in Nineveh? For my youth which I gave You, what have You given me? How have You returned my love, with what sorrow? What have You done to me, Lord? I stand in the darkness, weary, and with a heavy heart. What are You God of? Answer: what are You God of?” And God answered gently, “I am your God, Jonah, and where you go, there you will find Me.” Jonah sank down upon the rock again. His passion had exhausted him; but he was not convinced. “Well,” he said in a whisper, “You are not God in Nineveh, and I will not go.” Then the wrath of the Lord, slow to start, flamed for a moment over the desert, and Jonah cowered to earth while the heavens groaned and the ground shook with fright. And in his hole by the pool in the Land of Tob, the little fox said to himself, “Jonah is talking to God.” But God’s anger passed, leaving Him sad and holy. “Peace unto you, Jonah,” He said in tones of divine sweetness; “take up your task, and doubt Me no more.” And He returned to heaven in a cloud. Overcome with weariness, empty of passion, Jonah fell asleep upon the ground. No jackals laughed that night. Silence brooded over the desert. The stars kept watch without a sound, and Jonah slept with a quiet heart. XVII But in the morning his doubts returned more strongly than ever. “They will mock me in Nineveh,” he told himself. “I shall be made a laughing-stock. What power has the Light of Israel in the land of Marduk, of Dagon, of Istar, of the warrior Ashur? I should count myself lucky if I escaped being stoned to death. “For how can God destroy Nineveh? I might as well preach to the fish in the sea.” But now he had something to do, at least. He determined to flee from God. “I shall go to Tarshish,” he thought, “and begin life over again. There is nothing for me here any longer. The desert will be glad to be rid of me.” And without bothering even to return to his hut, he started south, toward Joppa, where he expected to find a ship bound west for Tarshish. He traveled swiftly, on other roads from those he had come. Late on the afternoon of the second day he crossed the Brook Kanah, and saw in the distance the white domed roofs of Joppa shining above the sea.