Friday or Saturday, June 13 or 14, 1650
Delfig awakes, uncertain as to where he is.
To begin with, he has been stripped of most of his clothing. He has a shirt, and a loin cloth, and breeches. Nothing else. His feet are bare.
All is utter darkness. He can feel stone under his hands and against his knees. The blindness is disconcerting, as he literally cannot see his hand in front of his face. But after some minutes, he begins to perceive that the there a very narrow band of light that can be identified on his right ... he moves towards it, and finds that it is the slit under a door - he can feel the wood on this fingers, and can feel the depth of the slit. It is nothing more than a quarter of an inch. He presses his face to the floor, and cannot make his eye close enough to the floor to see through the slit. The very dim light seems steady, but he can tell nothing more about it.
An examination of the door first reveals that there is no doorknob, on either the left side of the wooden slab or the right. But after a time, Delfig finds a wooden flap, which he can lift - peering through it, he can see a gently lit hall, about ten feet long, reaching away from the door. He can see no other doors in the hall, nor any torches ... but clearly the light he sees comes from torchlight, from somewhere beyond his sight. The light of the hall is no more than one might find in a dark room on a moonless night - for the walls are not yellowed with light, but blue-black. Just enough that he can make out the shape of the hall, and its features - but nothing else.
He might call out, but no one comes. And when he surrenders the flap, and looks around him again, he will find his eyes have adjusted somewhat, to the degree that the cell he is in - for it is a cell, about 8 feet by 6 - is lit almost as well as the hall outside. The source of this light proves not only to be the door, but also an opening in the ceiling - unobserved previously. This opening is about six inches square, and by looking up through it, Delfig can see a hint of light, a reflection at best, that might be natural, although he cannot see the sky.
Delfig has nothing, nothing at all, except his clothes.