It was quite dark when the sledge stopped inside the great yard at the house door. Work in the factory seemed to be in full swing, fires everywhere, and the electric light streaming forth.
"Drive round to the stable-yard, Stepan," said Alf, "while we go in and see if we can find anybody."
So saying, the boys passed through the big swing doors into the warm hall. The office doors on either side of the hall were locked, for it was Saturday, and the clerks had gone home.
"No one here," said Alf; "let's go up and try and find mother."
Upstairs they went, and paused on the first landing by the open door of their parents' room. As they did so, they heard nurse's voice, and stayed to listen.
"Dear Barina," she said, "no wonder this suspense is making you ill, but, I beg you, do not despair. I seem to feel it here in my heart that our dear children are safe, and that our prayers will be answered."
"Thy master is away searching for them himself, Niania," said the sad, feeble voice of Mrs. Oliver, "but so far he—"
At that moment, the boys stepped from behind the screen that was round the door, and mother and children were re-united.
And now, what remains to tell can be told in a few words: Mr. Oliver came home late that night, only to find his sons safely there before him.
How Stepan's repentance, and his kindness to the children, led to his being restored to his place in the factory; how, after a while, Pamphil too returned, having become steady and reliable; how Anton Griboff, owing to the injury to his head, went mad and died in a lunatic asylum—all this needs no further telling. Enough that trials and dangers through which Alf and Bert Oliver had passed had deepened their characters and strengthened their faith in God.