The old man was overjoyed to see him, and fully believed his tale, but with the second wife it was otherwise. She was greatly displeased to think that her child was not now to be the sole heir of his father's goods; and she so pestered and worked upon the old man by artful and malicious speeches, that he consented to send away the new-comer till he should have found the first wife's wedding-ring.
"Is the homestead I have taken such care of," she cried, "to go to the first vagrant who comes in with a brown face and a ragged coat, pretending that he is your son?"
So the soldier was sent about his business; but his father followed him to the gate, and slipped some money into his hand, saying, "God speed you back again with the ring!"
It was Sunday morning, and the bells were ringing for service as he turned sadly away.
"Ding, dong!" rang the bells, "ding, dong! Why do you not come to church like others? Why are you not dressed in your Sunday clothes, and wherefore do you heave such doleful sighs, whilst we ring merrily? Ding, dong! ding, dong!"
"Is there not a cause?" replied the soldier. "This day I am turned out of home and heritage, though indeed I am the true heir."
"Nevertheless we shall ring for your return," said the bells.
As he went, the sun shone on the green fields, and in the soldier's eyes, and said, "See how brightly I shine! But you, comrade, why is your face so cloudy?"
"Is there not good reason?" replied he. "This day I am turned out of home and heritage, and yet I am the true heir."
"Nevertheless I shall shine on your return," said the sun.