The uncertain factor in Driscoll Proctor’s life at this time was what to do about Roman. When he’d first come to Oaks, he had heard about the boy, half white, half Negro, who was a sort of schoolmaster at nearby Beulah Land, and out of curiosity he had made his acquaintance. And indeed, their early talking had been altogether about teaching. The mutuality of their calling, on however different levels, prevented any suspicion of unseemliness attaching to their further acquaintance. Roman was eager to listen to and learn from the older man; and presently Driscoll Proctor knew that he had come to love the young man.

The discovery was both joyful and frightening. He had long been aware of his reaction to young men in general. Indeed, it was, apart from the need to earn a living and the fact that he knew himself more inclined to scholarly work than manual, the thing that had turned him to tutoring. Yet until he knew Roman, he had not touched another male with an expression of love. He loved Roman, and certainly Roman loved him, in however complex a way, having to do with admiration and gratitude and son-fathering, no doubt, but love all the same. The question was: If Proctor left, would Roman go with him; would he be willing to leave what had been his only home? Proctor did not know. But he did know that if they left together, their destination would have to be somewhere north.

For many years Proctor had felt slavery to be wrong. The major reason for working his way farther and farther south as he had done was to observe the institution. In doing so he had developed a love for the South at the same time his convictions were strengthened against slavery. He kept his convictions to himself; he knew himself no crusader. Most Negroes, he believed, were not ready for freedom, but they would never be unless their masters trained them for it, and that would not happen. Teaching them even to read and write was breaking the law in most Southern states, although a family as powerful as the Kendricks might ignore the law as they pleased. He thought of these things and of Roman as he rode to the ball.

Arriving at Beulah Land, he trotted his horse around the house to the stables and left him with Plumboy, taking his clarinet case with him. He approached the house from the back, not as a servant, simply because he came from the stables and followed the sound of music. Going along the breezeway he opened one of the double doors to the hall and found himself in the middle of the orchestra. The formal sets of dancing had not yet begun. Proctor caught Roman’s eye, and they exchanged greeting smiles, as Roman continued to improvise a note or a phrase for the casual dancing music the others played.