On the way out to Borg, the horse was allowed to choose its own pace; father and son were too engrossed in their talk to trouble about anything else.
Ørlygur could not quite understand his son’s attitude towards music and fame—possibly because Ormarr himself was loth to lay bare all the trouble of his mind. Moreover, he felt a different man already, far healthier in mind and body, after the last few days, as if separated by a wide gulf from the Ormarr who had left Copenhagen after the scandal at the Concert Hall, a broken man, to seek rest and idleness in his own country.
Ørlygur could not altogether grasp his son’s changed attitude towards the question of his musical career, which had cost ten years of his life and several thousand pounds. But he thoroughly understood and approved of his new plan for a better and cheaper and more reliable service of steamers between Iceland and abroad.
Ormarr pointed out the advantage of having an independent national steamship service, and Ørlygur at once perceived the possibilities of the scheme for furthering the development of Iceland commerce and industry. The idea of excluding other countries from participating here appealed to him, and gained his entire support for the scheme. The very thought thrilled the old chieftain’s heart. Ay, they deserved no better, those slack-minded, selfish traders—they would only be reaping the results of their own shortcomings. They should no longer be allowed to monopolize trade, send up prices, make unreasonable profits, and do what they liked generally. There would be an end of their ill-found, ramshackle vessels, coming and going at their own convenience without the slightest regard for the public or their own advertised times. It was war—and he rejoiced at it. No question but that the people of Borg must win in the end.
As they were nearing home, Ormarr said:
“I am going to stay here this winter, father, before I set out again—Heaven knows how long it may be before I come back after that. I should like to live to enjoy one more spring here in Iceland. But after that, I must go abroad; work, work. It will take best part of the summer, I reckon, to raise the money—it will need a lot of money.”
Ørlygur gazed thoughtfully at the landscape, and answered:
“Well, well—I suppose you are right.”
For a while no sound was heard but the beat of the horse’s hoofs and the creaking of the sleigh. Then Ørlygur said in a half-whisper:
“But—we have some money here, you know, ourselves.”