 The morrow was the 27th of August, and even now, so long afterwards, my heart beats wildly at the memory of that fearful day. At six o'clock in the morning, we were up and ready. I begged that I should be allowed to ignite the explosive, and my uncle agreed. Our plan was simple. The professor and Hans would wait on the raft, and there I would join them as soon as I had fired the fuse.