The Island at the Top of the World

Congratulations, Josephine.

We've signed on our ship's mascot.

Very well, but I don't like small dogs,

and I never did.

Britain may rule the waves,

Sir Anthony,

but the French airship rules the sky.

Already, we are speeding in triumph

across the shores of your homeland.

It's raining as usual, I see.

- How far have we come?

- About 150 miles.

Hundred and fifty? In six hours?

Is that what you call

"speeding in triumph"?

We'll travel faster,

but now my motors are at half-speed.

What on earth for?

Damn you!

- They must run themselves in.

- Poppycock!

I want full speed!

There are the controls.

If you want full speed,

it is your responsibility, not mine.

What do you say now, Sir Anthony?

I say, I want full speed.

And I mean to have it.

You have your wish, Monsieur.

It's on your head.

- What's happening?

- Somebody route the propeller.

I followed your orders, Monsieur,

and you see the result.

Now we must go back

to France for repairs.

We will not.

We will proceed on one propeller.

The Arctic winds!

That would be insanity!

Without full power,

my airship could not survive.

- I refuse to go forward.

- And I refuse to go back.

Well, gentlemen,

we have to go somewhere.

Captain, you carry

a spare propeller, don't you?

- That is right.

- Well, why don't we put it on now.

In midair?

- Impossible!

- Nothing's impossible.

Splendid idea, Ivarsson.

Come along. Give me a hand.

Sir Anthony!

May I remind you

that I am in command here!

Only an idiot

would attempt such a thing.

I will do it myself.

Do be careful

and don't take any unnecessary risks.

Take good care.

The wind's coming up.

Let's haul him up.

Well done, Captain.

My congratulations.

Thank you, Sir Anthony.

I am deeply honoured.

What's he up to now?

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