After considering what she could possibly, do for a light, she recollected the thirty-eight jars in the yard, and determined to take a little oil out of one of them for her lamp. She took her oil-pot in her hand, and approaching the first jar, the robber within said, “Is it time captain?” Any other slave, perhaps, on hearing a man in an oil jar, would have screamed out; but the prudent Morgiana instantly recollected herself and replied softly, No, not yet, lie still till I call you. She passed on to each of the jars, receiving the same question and giving the same answer, till she arrived at the last, which was full of oil.
Morgiana was now convinced that this was a plot of the robbers to murder her master Ali Baba; so she ran back the kitchen, and brought out a large kettle, which she filled with oil, and set it on a great wood fire; and as soon as it boiled, she went and poured into the jars sufficient of the boiling oil to kill every man within them.
Having done this, she put out her fire and lamp, and crept softly to her chamber.
The captain of the robbers hearing, every thing quiet in the house, and perceiving no light any where, arose and went down into the yard to assemble his men. Coming to the first jar, he felt the steams of the boiling
