The officer drew himself up to his full height, and his eyes flashed as he retorted, “Nicht fur uns. Nicht fur uns.” (“Not for us. Not for us.”) “Listen,” I retorted. “The intention of my remark was to convey to you how regrettable it is that a soldier of the worth of Lord Kitchener, instead of finding a glorious death on the battlefield, should have perished in the manner reported.” “Nicht fur uns. Nicht fur uns,” the Prussian insisted. Many months passed. The man had evidently forgotten the incident of Kitchener’s death. One morning he came to my cell with face long, and expression sad. “Have you heard the awful news?” he asked me. “Richthofen has fallen.” Richthofen, Germany’s most famous aviator, was dead after seventy-five great aerial victories. “Yes, Richthofen has fallen,” the officer repeated. “Is it not regrettable?” “Nicht fur uns. Nicht fur uns,” I answered without hesitation. “How can you say that?” he said. “Is it not a matter of regret that a great hero like Richthofen should disappear?” “Nicht fur uns,” I said again, not knowing what might be the outcome of my boldness. “Why do you talk like this?” the officer asked. “I am merely following your example,” I told him. “When I ventured to express my regret at Lord Kitchener’s death, regret that a soldier of his valor had been drowned, and not killed in the manner of the valiant soldier he was, you made use of this expression. To-day Richthofen has fallen, but he fell in the arena where his skill and genius and valor earned for him an immortal name. Acknowledge that his loss is regrettable for Germany, but you cannot expect the countries at war with Germany will experience regret in the same sense that you feel it, although I am sure they will pay just tribute to his valor as an aviator.” The officer left me a few minutes afterwards. I do not know if he appreciated the appropriateness of my remarks. One day I had a sharp discussion with Captain Wolfe, of the Kommandantur at Berlin. This officer occupied the position of a judicial war counsellor and held a high and responsible office at the Kommandantur. He was naturally vested with considerable authority. Nobody realized this fact more than those who were detained against their will, and in spite of just protests, in the jail on Dirksen street. Well, on the day to which I am referring Captain Wolfe visited the jail and condescended to hear me. That was his manner of answering the numerous petitions I had addressed to the military authorities during the previous months. Periodically I would undertake against the authorities what may be called an “offensive” for liberty. On this occasion I submitted to Captain Wolfe the fact that I had been arrested in a neutral country–that is to say, Belgium. I said that no foreign subject could lawfully be made a prisoner there, at least not until the military authorities had given all foreign subjects a fair opportunity to leave the territory.