Together with Andrée, we went to the top of the shed to examine carefully the work that had been done, and to arrange about the preparations for starting. The wind was very violent. The wooden structure trembled under our feet; I feared sometimes that it would be blown down, and the balloon destroyed. But this apparently light structure was really very solidly built, of which fact it had furnished excellent proofs. Moreover, it was sheltered by a hill 329 feet high. After having enumerated the various operations to be performed, Andrée returned to his observations for a few minutes. The result was favourable. The direction of the wind seemed quite settled; but he did not give the order to start. This time he dared not take the sole responsibility of this decision, so he consulted his fellow-travellers. It was a very delicate question for the members staying behind, Svedenborg and myself, to decide; the decision rested rather with those directly interested. Strindberg and Fraenkel wished to start at once, and besides, what were we waiting for? Time was passing, the season was advancing; therefore, the sooner, the better. Andrée did not express his opinion; it was not necessary, we guessed it. He was burning to set out for the conquest of the Pole; and he only said, “The departure is decided upon.” We returned on board the _Svensksund_, where the sailors in uniform, and in the presence of the officers, were attending a short religious service, after having been reviewed as usual on Sunday. As soon as the decision was known, Captain Ehrensvärd gave orders for the whole crew to resume their working clothes immediately. [Illustration: K. FRAENKEL.] Two Norwegian sailing vessels, returning from the north, entered the bay, and made ready to cast anchor opposite the shed. Signals were exchanged, to ask them to take up a different position, so as to leave a free passage for the Andrée balloon, which would start in a few hours. The workers are ready, and are being taken ashore by the boats. The carpenters and a detachment of sailors go quickly up into the shed, and demolish the northern portion with surprising rapidity. It is 11 o’clock in the morning. Andrée is standing before the shed, observing everything. His orders follow one another, brief and rapid; his voice resounds, rendered still stronger by a speaking trumpet. Nothing is heard but the crackling of the wood as it is broken away, and the wooden beams as they come crashing to the ground. A detachment of men clear away the rubbish as it falls. On the south side, at the top of the shed, sailors are stretching the canvas between the masts, thus increasing by 13 feet the height of the roof. Everywhere is feverish activity; the preparations go on rapidly. We now turn our attention to the balloon, which slowly rises, as the bags of ballast are slowly let down from mesh to mesh until they stop at the hoop.