The Story of John S Hudson

"I am unsure of the elapsed time I remained there on the floor.  I neither dreamed nor held tangible thoughts.  Whatever the instance, I eventually regained reason, along with more of faculties, as the pain subsided and the stupor completely wore off.  Next, I busied myself with determining the actual layout of the basement.  My eyes had adjusted to the lack of light during my repose and I now was capable of making out the limits of vision by the faint traces of light reflected off the walls and back to my honed eyes.  I could judge that the far walls stretched only about twenty feet from the base of the stairs I had tumbled down.  The incline of the steps was steep, as my descent was quick, and the wall under them rose to the bottom of the house above.  On that wall, as I could more easily see, laid a series of heavy tiered bricks.  There was no opening or discontinuation in the even masonry.  The walls at the lengths appeared in similar fashion.  Any window or opening would have presented itself in a shinier or darker section compared to the dull reflection of the off-white brick.  I had no exit save for the door, which it would be folly to assume open for my leisurely leave.  And if I tried a forceful departure, I would be killed; for surely the Baron remained in earshot, and had in his possession some armament.  Thus I concluded to stay here and let the passage of time offer me some answer.  Looking about the jail, I found no articles but a few misconstrued newspapers, an old iron crate under the stairs, some books piled neatly to my left, an assortment of old curtains and furniture dressings, many canisters; the contents unknown, some rubber piping, both of thin and thick width, wooden planks of various size, and to my delight, what looked like a box of nails.
I immediately came upon a design for a bludgeonous weapon.  However, a hammer was needed, and thought better of the possibility of it existing down here.  My previous silent search turned up no tools.  The ground could be used to drive the nail into the planks by somehow propping it right, pinend up, and hoping to hit it evenly enough with the wood as to drive it in.  I could use another piece of wood as the hammer.  This would of course have to be accomplished without the slightest attention drawn from the Baron.  I am sure he listened in on his captive from time to time, and I assumed him to be smart enough to not appear in the light that I could see by, thus making it impossible for me to predict his presence.  However, for all I knew, the Baron could be nowhere on the premises; but this idea too seemed ridiculous because the Lady Regina would come for me, unless..."
Now John Hudson breathed deep with the last word trailing.  I knew from his countenance that the very Lady he spoke of had met with ill fate.  I sat mortified at the turn of events in his tale.  How could such a horrific series of event transpire?  His still living presence was testament to the fact that the happenings of the case were not complete and thus rendered some final explanation to the eventual escape.  Without letting me ponder, or even allow a thought on the matter, he progressed, having mentally disregarded the last sentence uttered...