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 disorder was, but that he could neither eat nor speak. After these words, Morgiana carried the lozenges home with her, and the next morning went to the same apothecary’s again, and with tears in her eyes, asked for an essence which they used to give to sick people only when at the last extremity. ‘‘Alas!” said she, taking it from the apothecary, “I am afraid that this remedy will have no better effect than the lozenges; and that I shall lose my good master.” On the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go between Cassim’s and their own house all that day, and to seem melancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the lamentable shrieks and cries of Cassim’s wife and Morgiana, who gave out everywhere that her master was dead. The next morning, soon after day appeared, Morgiana, who knew a certain old cobbler that opened his stall early, before other people, went to him, and bidding him good morrow, put a piece of gold into his hand. “Well,” said Baba Mustapha, which was his name, and who was a merry old fellow, looking at the gold, “this is good hansel: what must I do for it? I am ready.”

“Baba Mustapha,” said Morgiana, “‘you must take with you your sewing tackle, and go with me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to such a place.” Baba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words. “Oh! oh!” replied he, “you would have me do something against my conscience or against my honour?’’ ‘‘God forbid!” said Morgiana, putting another piece of gold into his hand, “that I should ask anything that is contrary to your honour; only come along with me, and fear nothing.”

Baba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes with a handkerchief, conveyed him to her deceased master’s house, and never unloosed his eyes till he had entered