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"Peter remained with Bernard sahib," Hanani answered. "He will tell them where to seek for you." Again Stella gazed about the place. It struck her as strange that Peter should have relinquished his guardianship of her, even in favour of Hanani. But the thought did not hold her for long.
His end was less good than his beginning; he made a league with the Syrians instead of trusting to God; and threw the prophet Hanani into prison for having rebuked him; and in his latter years he was cruel and oppressive. He died in 891.
Hanani, Nehemiah's brother, had left Shushan for a distant land. Twelve years had passed since all the Jews in Shushan had been roused by the news that Ezra the scribe was going from Babylon to Jerusalem, and that he was calling upon all who loved the home of their forefathers to go with him, and to help him in the work he had undertaken.
She did not really believe in the danger, and Everard was probably far away already. She went back to her baby and the ayah, Hanani, over whom Peter was mounting guard with a queer mixture of patronage and respect.
"I couldn't have played the Hanani game if Peter hadn't put me up to it. Darling, are those actually tears? Because I won't have them. You are going to look forward, not back." She clung to him closely, passionately. "Yes yes. I will look forward. But, oh, Everard, promise me promise me you will never deceive me again!" "I don't believe I could, any more," he said. "But promise!" she urged.
"His name, mem-sahib, was Dacre." "Dacre!" Stella repeated the name blankly. It seemed to hold too great a meaning for her to grasp. "So Hafiz told Hanani," said the ayah. "But Dacre!" Stella hung upon the name as if it held her by a fascination from which she could not shake free. "Is that all you know?" she said at last.
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