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Sera Daniel went on:

“In foreign countries there are artists who make fortunes by playing the violin. I have often wished that I were an artist like that... it must be wonderful to travel from one great city to another and be rich. I have heard such men in Copenhagen, when I was studying there.”

When Ørlygur à Borg realized that the priest’s words pointed, not to impossible realms of fancy, but to a world of beautiful reality, the look in his eyes changed. So strange was his glance, so complete the alteration, that Sera Daniel flushed with pleasure at the effect of his words.

For a while Ørlygur stared straight before him, as if in thought. Great things were passing in his mind. Where others would deliberate at length, Ørlygur à Borg was capable of taking in a situation in a moment. He was thinking of Ormarr’s and his brother’s future, and with his wonted respect for sudden impulses, which he was almost inclined to attribute to divine influence, he made up his mind quickly.

He turned to the priest.