“My God,” Adam said, horrified at the very idea of such Godlessness. He thought for a few seconds. “I don’t think,” he went on slowly, “that conversion depends on an outside influence. You can’t expect a magical change, Nate. True conversion comes from an inner determination.”

“You mean Christ has nothing to do with it?”

“Of course he does, yes, but he’s powerless unless you invite him in. You have to unleash his power.”

“I can’t!” The protest was almost a wail, the cry of a young man desperate to be released from the travails of religious struggle, a struggle that pitted Christ and his salvation against the temptation of Sally Truslow and Dominique and of all the other forbidden and wonderful delights that seemed to tear Starbuck’s soul in two.

“You should begin by going home,” Adam said. “It’s your duty.”

“I’m not going home,” Starbuck said, utterly ignoring his recent decision to do just that. “I won’t find God at home, Adam. I need to be on my own.” That was not true. Starbuck, now that his friend had returned to Faulconer Court House, wanted to stay in Virginia because the summer which had looked so threatening under Washington Faulconer’s disapproval was suddenly promising to be golden again. “And why are you here?” Starbuck turned the questioning on his friend. “For duty?”

“I suppose so.” Adam was uncomfortable with the question. “I suppose we all look for home when things seem bad. And they are bad, Nate. The North is going to invade.”

Starbuck grinned. “So we fight them off, Adam, and that will be the end of it. One battle! One short, sweet battle. One victory, and then peace. You’ll get your convention then, you’ll get everything you want probably, but you have to fight one battle first.”

Adam smiled. It seemed to him that his friend Nate existed only for sensation. Not for thought, which Adam liked to think was his own touchstone. Adam believed that the truth of everything, from slavery to salvation, could be adduced by reason, while Starbuck, he realized, was swayed solely by emotion. In some ways, Adam thought with a surprise, Starbuck resembled his father, the Colonel. “I’m not going to fight,” Adam said after a long pause. “I won’t fight.”

It was Starbuck’s turn to be shocked. “Does your father know that?”

Adam shook his head, but said nothing. It seemed that he too was wary of a father’s disapproval.

“So why did you come home?” Starbuck asked.