The band of pilgrims soon left the ruins of the monastery at Petschenga, and went southwards again, and one of them promised to make for Olonets, and inform Theodore’s mother that he and Annita were alive, and had found one another. Four weeks later it was possible to remove the bandage from Theodore’s eyes. ‘Well, Annita,’ he said, the first time he opened them, ‘now I see you, that it is you yourself. I wasn’t absolutely certain before, but now I see the old smile upon your lips, and am quite certain. No other woman smiles like you.’ It was late one winter evening when Theodore and Annita drove into the courtyard at Olonets. The whole house was in darkness. Only in one room was a light burning, and it shone on them, and welcomed them like a friendly star on a dark night. ‘There is a light in your mother’s room,’ said Annita. ‘She is still awake. Come!’ she said, and took Theodore by the hand. They went quietly to the window and looked in. The old lady was kneeling on a rug which she used at church, with a book before her, absorbed in prayer. ‘She has been weeping,’ said Annita; ‘she has been stricken with fear and doubt while we have been so long away.’ ‘Let us go in,’ said Theodore. ‘Yes; you go,’ said Annita. ‘I will wait here a little; but be careful, for your old mother is very feeble now.’ When Theodore had gone, Annita tapped on the window pane, and called out, ‘We are here, mother,’ so that she might not be startled too suddenly. The old lady folded her hands together, and partly rose. At the same moment Theodore entered, and knelt down beside her. She uttered a shriek such as could only come from a mother’s heart. ‘Theodore, my son! my son!’ and she clung to him, weeping on his neck. Annita then entered quietly, and shed tears of joy with mother and son. Afterwards all the servants in the house came and kissed the hands of the home-comers. It was a day of rejoicing throughout the estate when Theodore and Annita returned. When this was reported in the village one of the women went running home and told her husband. He exclaimed: ‘Is it true what you say, wife, that Theodore Ivanovitsch and Annita have returned?’ ‘Yes, it is as true as that I live,’ she said. ‘Then I will never thrash you again,’ he exclaimed. All the people streamed up to the castle to see the returned ones, and to kiss their hands. Theodore and Annita had taken Unnas with them, and when, half a year later, there was a wedding at the castle, Unnas also celebrated his wedding in the village.