“Merely because of my wife’s remarks,” he answered with a delicate smile in which it was impossible to detect the slightest shadow of reproach. The day following our interview the professor returned my call. He was, of course, accompanied to my cell by a non-commissioned officer, who, according to instructions, locked us in the room together. Mr. Marteau brought with him his marvelous instrument upon which he had been granted the privilege to play during his imprisonment. It was his music which had charmed our ears on previous days. On this occasion he was kind enough to entertain me with several selections from Bach and Gounod. The Poles, as is well known, have a passion for music, as, indeed, have the Russians, and they flocked to the windows and were charmed by the enchanting music. Every selection was heartily applauded. The entertainment caused a pleasant sensation in the prison, and when the professor visited me again the next day, there was the same enthusiastic audience to enjoy his masterly performance. Suddenly it was interrupted by the appearance of the Sergeant-Major at the door of my cell. Ignoring the professor’s courteous bow, he cried in a harsh voice: “This cannot be allowed; you have no permission to play here.” The officer left as abruptly as he came, and the door was closed with a bang. I must be excused if I do not report the remarks that were made at the ill-mannered behavior towards Professor Marteau, who was as refined as he was distinguished. This worthy man was the father of two charming daughters, aged four and five years respectively, but in spite of his requests–repeated over and over again during his three months’ confinement in the Stadtvogtei–for the privilege of receiving visits from his children and for permission that they might call to see their mother, the Kommandantur categorically refused to grant the petition. A few months afterwards Professor Marteau was granted provisional liberty. He was permitted to leave the jail and go and reside in the village of Mecklembourg, where he had to report himself daily at the municipal hall; but his movements were confined to the radius of the village boundaries. During our intercourse, I frequently expressed the hope that, after the termination of the war, we might have the pleasure of welcoming him on a return visit to Canada and the United States. I told him that he might be assured of the greatest triumph an artist of his outstanding talent could hope for.