Unhappily, the lord-governor was delayed for some months in the islands,
and Oroonoko became impatient. After the trick played upon him by the
captain of the slave-ship, he had become exceedingly suspicious of the
honesty and good faith of white men. He was afraid that the overseer
would keep him and his wife until their child was born, and make a slave
of it. At last, he grew so moody and sullen that many persons feared
that he would incite the negroes to a mutiny. In order to soothe the
prince, I invited him and Imoinda to stay at my house, where I
entertained them to the best of my ability.

"Surely," I said to him, "you do not suspect that we will break our word
with you? Only wait patiently, my friend, till the lord-governor
arrives, and you will be permitted to return to your own kingdom."

"You do not understand," Oroonoko replied. "I am angry with myself for
remaining so long a slave. What! Do you white people think that I, the
king of Coromantien, can be treated like the captives that I have taken
in war and sold to you? Had it not been for Imoinda, I would long since
have been free or dead."

Unfortunately, both for me and Oroonoko, my father, who had been
appointed lieutenant-general of the West Indies and Guiana, died at sea
on his way to Surinam, and the new lord-governor was long in arriving.
In the meantime, a child was born to Imoinda, and all the negroes, to
the number of 300, came together to celebrate the event. Oroonoko,
beside himself with anger, because his child had been born into slavery,
made a harangue to the assembled multitude.

"Why should we be slaves to these white men?" he cried. "Have they
conquered us nobly in battle? Are we become their captives by the chance