“Never, Imoinda,” he cried, “shall you have a rival.  You are the only woman I shall love, the only woman I shall marry.  Come, my darling, and let us try and raise our people up by our example.”

Imoinda was naturally overjoyed to become the wife of so noble and cultivated a prince, and she waited the next morning in a state of delicious excitement for Oroonoko to return and claim her as his bride.  But, to her dismay and horror, four headmen with their servants came at daybreak to her house with a royal veil.  This is a rudely embroidered cloth which the king of Coromantien sends to any lady whom he has a mind to make his wife.  After she is covered with it, the maid is secured for the king’s otan, or harem, and it is death to disobey the royal summons.

Trembling and almost fainting, Imoinda was compelled to suffer herself to be covered and led away to the old king.  His imagination had been excited by the wild way in which the followers of his grandson had praised the beauty of the maiden, and, carried away by unnatural jealousy, he had resolved, in a fit of madness, to possess her at all costs.  In spite of all he had heard, he was amazed by her loveliness.  Rising up from his throne, he came towards her with outstretched arms.

“I am already married,” she cried, bursting into tears and throwing herself at his feet.  “Do not dishonour me!  Let me return to my own house.”

“Who has dared to marry the daughter of my chief headman without my consent?” said the old king, his eyes rolling in anger.  “Whoever he is, he shall die at once.”

Imoinda began to fear for Oroonoko, and tried to undo the effect of her words.

“He—­he is not exactly my husband yet,” she stammered.  “But, oh, I love him!  I love him!  And I have promised to marry him.”

“That’s nothing,” said the king, his eyes now lighting up with pleasure.  “You must be my wife.”

In the afternoon, Oroonoko, who had gone in search of Imoinda, returned.  Having heard that she had received the royal veil, he came in so violent a rage that his men had great trouble to save him from killing himself.

“What can I do?” he cried desperately.  “Even if I slew my grandfather, I could not now make Imoinda my wife.”

II.—­A White Man’s Treachery

By the custom of the country, it would have been so great a crime to marry a woman whom Us grandfather had taken that Oroonoko’s people would probably have risen up against him.  But one of his men pointed out that, as Imoinda was his lawful wife by solemn contract, he was really the injured man, and might, if he would, take her back—­the breach of the law being on his grandfather’s side.  Thereupon, the young prince resolved to recover her, and in the night he entered the otan, or royal harem, by a secret passage, and made his way to the apartment of Imoinda.  Had he found the old king there, he no doubt would have killed him; but, happily, the lovely maid was alone, and quietly sleeping in her bed.  He softly awakened her, and she trembled with joy and fear at his boldness.  But they had not been long together when a sudden noise was heard and a band of armed men with spears burst into the room.