"But those other witches were bad and Gloma seems really good and beautiful," objected Dorothy, looking around without much enthusiasm.
"Beautiful or not, she's a dark and dangerous lady," insisted the pig, beginning his search in a methodical way, "and it's her beauty or ours, remember, this Black Queen is quite determined to destroy us, if we don't destroy her first."
"Yes, I suppose so," agreed Dorothy. Slowly following Pigasus, she pulled aside black velvet curtains, peered behind cupboards and screens and looked under sofas and chairs. There were many ebony cabinets standing against the wall, but each one was securely locked and except for a great black crystal ball on a table in the center of the room, there seemed to be no magic apparatus at all. A dark lantern swinging from the domed ceiling cast its curious luminous black rays into every corner of the witch's laboratory. After circling the room three times, Pigasus and Dorothy were forced to admit there was no water of any kind or even a pail available.
"We'll have to think of something else," grumbled the pig, as Dorothy again sat down on her stool.
"Are you thinking?" he demanded sharply, as the little girl stared absently at the tips of her boots.
"No," confessed Dorothy frankly, "I was just wondering why Gloma calls this a dark room. She must know since General Blotz ducked us under the Black River we can see in here as well as in the forest."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that," muttered the pig, coming over and crowding as close to Dorothy as he could. It almost seemed as if someone had heard him, for scarcely were the words out of his mouth before the dark lantern over their heads sputtered ominously and went out, leaving them in a perfectly pitch black total darkness.
"I—I—I felt something like this would happen," faltered Pigasus, throwing his left wing protectingly around Dorothy. "Listen! Someone is coming."
A light sure footstep sounded in the passage—came closer, then a sudden puff of air told them that someone had opened the door.