Woman from the End of the World, The (1938)

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LOST ISLAND.

Based on Alain Serdac's novel,

The Woman at the End of the Earth.

- Lieutenant.

- Mr. Arlanger.

- Having fun?

- Yes.

Lieutenant, how do you feel

about sailing on the Saint-Joachim?

It's quite a promotion for you,

you'll be first mate.

- A fine ship.

- There are more recent ones.

Good pay,

an extraordinary campaign.

What else do you need?

Give me a couple of days,

would you?

I need to think about it.

Think about it?

And miss out on the opportunity?

Spend your life on a coal freighter

going from Dunkirk to Cardiff?

Never see the world?

Risk no more than a bus driver?

I can assure you the navigation

will be marvelous.

You're young and strong enough

to make the most of it.

It's one

of the rarest substances on earth.

Only a few people

know its value

and its limitless power.

It's called radium.

We'll be looking for radium.

You know that your contract,

just like the captain's,

involves a stake...

- Excuse me.

Andrée, my dear Andrée.

- It's hot.

- You've been dancing too much.

With everyone.

Robert, stop your endless reproaches.

Have you forgotten we're engaged?

You hardly let me forget.

It's my right to have fun.

I simply ask you to be careful

about whom you have fun with.

Avoid Charles.

He's a boy

who's proud of his reputation,

but he's a troublemaker.

Stop your moralizing.

If I can't bear a fiancé's jealousy,

I won't be able to bear a husband's.

Let go of me!

I have a headache.

Hello, boys!

- How are you?

- It's party time!

Boss! Another bottle, and fast.

Did you sign with the Saint-Joachim?

I hope not. Ask him.

You were wrong.

Maybe you were wrong.

With a 40-year-old tub,

you never know.

Arlanger had a hard time

getting a crew together.

Of course,

with a worn-out old dinghy like that!

To go who knows where!

To hell with it!

What if I'm glad to go to hell?

You're better than that, Durc.

You don't need that job.

There's no one like him

for handling a ship.

Everyone knows that.

And what if he likes

being out at sea?

I knew others like him.

Staying put makes them sick.

They have to sail

as far away as possible.

Stop telling yarns!

I don't give a toss about the sea,

about faraway lands...

I signed on

and that's all there is to it.

Durc,

you never would've made that mistake

if you hadn't deep-sixed Marjo.

Marjo? Who...?

Don't talk about that.

Never say that name again. Never!

Come on, let's go.

- You're leaving already?

- Yes.

- Because of what I said?

- No. You gave me a migraine.

I'm sorry. You're really leaving?

- I'll take you home.

- No, thanks.

I've already accepted

Charles' company and his car.

Charles? After what I just told you?

I can make my own decisions.

Do you realize?

A walk will change my mind.

Good evening.

I won't let you do this. It's mad.

You're thinking ahead.

I haven't yet sworn to obey you.

You just have to trust me.

Andrée, I'm telling you

not to leave with Charles.

- I'm leaving with him.

- I will no longer trust you.

Then your trust

must have been rather weak

and mine wrongly placed.

This is madness!

Lieutenant, I'll expect you

in my office tomorrow at noon.

At noon.

Good. Very good. Bravo.

Now back to work.

Ah, here's Captain Sueur.

Hello. This is Lieutenant Jacquet,

your first mate.

All that's left

is to ask for your diligence

and precision.

We'll cast off in 8 days.

Jacquet, I'll leave you to it.

I'm freezing.

I'm going to get some sleep.

South 60 degrees east.

South 60 degrees east. Ok.

As soon as you see land,

sound the depth,

slow down and inform me

and Mr. Arlanger.

- Understood.

- You're up early.

- I can't sleep.

If I were the radioman,

I'd still be in bed.

It's true it's not very warm.

We've been talking about

Dumont-d'Urville Island for so long

that after six weeks at sea,

I don't want to miss

the sight of it.

We won't reach your island

for another 2 hours.

My island? You're mocking me.

It's "Mr. Arlanger's Island,".

"The Pearl of the Antarctic Ocean,"

as he says.

I don't know if it's a pearl,

but the sea is magnificent.

Look at those swells!

My poor boy.

I've seen the swells

of Newfoundland.

Those were swells.

In comparison,

this is just the current,

a dime a dozen, that's all.

And yet you got out of bed

to come and see it.

Certainly, on a precautionary basis.

I'm far from impressed.

But it sure impresses you.

"Impresses me"!

I just like it, that's all.

- I like the sea.

- You like it!

That's why you signed on

with the Saint-Joachim?

Yes.

I noticed

you weren't like the others.

An amateur.

I signed on for the pay,

like everyone else.

No, old boy. Make no mistake.

For me, it was a love story.

A pretty little chickadee.

She's in a family way

and I just want to do right by her.

My parents screamed blue m*rder!

They cut me off.

And you dropped the girl?

Are you kidding?

She's waiting for me.

And I'm going to marry her

when I return, thanks to the pay.

But two years is a long time.

See, that's what keeps me up

at night and keeps me out of bed.

I really like her, you know.

Molinier, you're a nice guy.

We're going to be good pals.

Because...

me, too.

I'm here because of a woman, too.

- A femme fatale?

- No.

Well, yes.

- She's my fiancée.

- She isn't dead, is she?

I'll tell you about it someday.

Damn women.

Land h*!

Land h*!

Look, Mr. Expert,

the richest island on earth.

- It's fantastic.

- It's pretty ugly.

We'll be stuck here for two years.

- Apparently, there's a bar.

- Are you hallucinating?

They told me so at the Cape.

- They were teasing you.

- Why?

I'll leave the pearl

of the Antarctic to him.

It's cold.

Look at that,

to the right of the boulder, there.

That's not normal.

I can't see her now.

Nothing there.

I'm sure I saw her,

our siren.

She's real!

It's like sea serpents.

They don't exist.

What's that got to do

with my siren?

You have to keep your eyes peeled,

my boy.

- Let's go ashore and check it out.

- Go ask for permission.

I'll go.

It's a primitive sorcerer's devilry.

- There's no more primitive than you.

- I'll go.

Lieutenant,

the men are asking to go ashore.

They're eager

to stretch their legs.

Sure, sure.

No danger of losing them

around here.

Understood.

Lieutenant,

get ready to drop anchor.

Let go on port side!

Well, old boy,

I didn't know Le Havre

was so ruggedly beautiful.

Gambetta Square,

Pascati Hotel.

Look, don't knife me.

And Marseille, the Canebière,

white wine with violet syrup...

An aperitif.

Strolls along the corniche,

concerts.

Ah, yes!

20 months!

Can you believe it?

20 months in this wasteland.

She'll forget me.

You're thinking of your fiancée?

Oh, I don't know.

It's all so far away.

- And you?

- Me?

I think I was a real schmuck.

I should have given it some thought

and found work

on the tramway...

I don't know.

There isn't even anywhere

to play boules.

Well, what did you expect?

You made your bed...

Now lie on it.

But 20 months here will be hard.

You're getting paid.

That's the pay you'll bring home.

- Being paid isn't everything.

- It's not everything

if we can't write home,

like the mechanic said.

House in sight!

Hey!

House in sight!

There's smoke to the right.

There's smoke to the right.

Doesn't look like a bar.

What do you think?

Some mechanic, he knows everything.

Well, it's lived in.

Maybe we better not bother them.

"Bother them"! How nice of you.

I don't mind bothering the natives.

Come on, Durc,

a little tact, please.

- I'll go check it out.

- Very well, Officer.

How about that? It's her.

Come in, gentlemen, come in.

You'll feel better in here

than out there.

What shall I serve you?

Something warm. A coffee,

with some rum, of course.

Coffee with rum, a good idea

that's sure to please everyone!

You speak French?

Of course I do, I'm Breton.

I saw your ship

arriving this morning.

You mustn't see many Frenchmen.

You're the second bunch.

The first ones came 3 years ago.

3 years? Well, sh**t!

Luckily, we'll only be here 2 years.

I said there was a woman and a bar.

You owe me a round.

If our cook made this,

we'd already be better off.

- Some coffee?

- Yes, please.

And some rum.

Thanks.

Won't you leave these men alone?

He's not bothering us.

Is that your son? Handsome boy!

Come here.

Yes. He's almost six.

He'll be a big boy soon.

You don't live here all alone

with the boy, do you?

No, not quite all alone.

I have my husband.

He's just coming in now. Charley!

Don't mind him, he's been a bit odd

since the accident.

Your life mustn't be too cheerful.

Neither cheerful nor sad.

You get used to it.

Nice bar this island has.

Nothing to write home about.

I knew it wouldn't be long

before you opened your mouth.

Stop ogling her like that.

Don't all speak at once.

Are you done grumbling?

Were you expecting a dance hall

for you and the whales?

When I think

that in a few months

I'll have a little one like this.

Huh, Jacquet?

It reminds me of the last album

we bought together.

It was a Thursday evening.

Marie-Jeanne was 20.

Black hair

White teeth.

Her heart was locked twice.

No man had ever entered.

From her velvet blouse.

A rose fell one day.

It was a Sunday in May.

She was leaving mass.

The village was in full bloom.

Just like paradise must be.

A man passed by, if only you'd seen.

A strong man with a stubborn brow.

Picked up the flower, smelled it.

Smelled the woman, too.

When she left the church.

He returned it with a smile.

"Take me on your boat

"I'll be your deckhand".

"Marie-Jeanne, you don't belong there.

"To be a deckhand, I need a man"

"I'll make your fish soup.

"Better than your cabin boy does".

She kissed him so long and deeply.

That, in the end, he agreed.

Then one stormy night.

Marie-Jeanne disappeared.

Next spring, other girls.

Will see the roses and jasmine bloom.

Marie-Jeanne, lovesick.

The sea claimed you.

For not wanting to share.

Your beloved with her.

Sleep, Marie-Jeanne.

Sleep, sleep.

With no other flower.

Than the sea water.

Ah! It's my turn now.

I'll sing you something funnier:

"A Girl With Nice t*ts."

What an idiot. Shut up!

- Shut up.

- Oh, that's enough.

Come on, Jimmy,

say goodbye to these men

who've been so nice to you.

Bye, Curly!

I don't dare offer you

the compliments you deserve.

You really touched us, you know.

Oh, are you teasing?

When I'm bored,

I sing, that's all.

- Here.

- No. Sorry, drop it.

I'm the first mate,

it's my place to...

Please.

Good evening.

You're acting like a boor!

Good evening, gentlemen.

Get back safely. See you soon.

Good evening, ma'am.

Sleep well, my love.

It's true it's getting late.

Come on, boys, back to the ship.

We'll start work tomorrow at dawn.

Go!

Come on!

I'm not paying you

to play bloody knuckles.

"Pay"

is the only thing they talk about.

So, Mr. Expert?

For the past month,

I've been waiting

for your intuition.

But it's not about intuition.

I'm following your directions,

I'm looking.

It's not about looking.

There's pitchblende

on this island, and I'm paying you

not to look for it, but to find it.

There you are, Lieutenant.

We have to talk.

I reviewed the results

of our first analysis.

They are excellent.

It encourages us to continue.

Thus, we'll continue to take

numerous samples

from around the island.

But to do so,

we'll need them to work more.

Our men can't do more.

They're sailors,

not trench diggers.

No, they're paid as such.

- I know.

- And?

I know perfectly well.

What is it?

It's time.

Hey, hey!

Where are they rushing off to?

How about that?

The sun rises.

Coloring the house.

The heath and the river bank.

In Brittany,

Yann, at his threshold, breathes.

The sweet morning air.

He sees young Elvire.

And the bread wheat.

It's good and strong.

The men's land.

It is everlasting.

And will never betray them.

Yann leaves with a steady heart.

To cross through the fields.

It is no island.

He goes off singing.

He goes to town.

Where there is a market.

He sells, talks, shares.

And he's paid well.

Yann, from the hillside.

Sees his green valley.

Where a shadow hovers.

Beneath the tree trunks.

The wind sings to the leaves.

The bird in its nest.

The woods reflect.

As night falls.

The livestock come to drink.

And return slowly home.

Smoke rises.

Lightly into the sky.

The stars appear.

And perfume the night.

O, Earth, you let.

Us all fall asleep.

The moon rises.

Whitens the house.

The heath and the river bank.

In Brittany.

Jacquet, it's none of my business,

but do you think they're finding

their pitchblende?

Not quite.

At least, not as far as I know.

Look at this telegram

I was asked to send.

It's from this morning.

"Third deposit.

Abundant and of exceptional quality."

It's curious.

You shave every day now?

Like you.

I have nothing else to do.

I find time to shave.

Do you mind?

Yes, I do!

Want me to tell you something?

You're in love.

In love? Hey, that's funny.

I never heard anything so funny.

No, no.

It's worse for you. You're jealous.

Me, jealous?

Of whom and what, if you will?

Dare to speak directly.

You know what I mean.

I'm not as crazy as you,

my old man.

I'm not your "old man."

Familiarity isn't always appropriate,

even without hierarchy.

No, on the contrary.

Let's not forget about the hierarchy.

It's better

to define our relationship.

- As you wish.

- Understood.

There he is again.

I've had it with him.

Listen.

It's done, it's magnificent.

Those two are at each other's throats

for your Madonna.

"You're in love."

"You're jealous," the other replied.

"My old man."

"I'm not your 'old man."'

Then the big words,

familiarity for one,

hierarchy for the other,

it's funny.

It doesn't seem to make you laugh.

- Stop going on like that.

- Get back to work.

Unbelievable!

Incredible!

You're dumber than I thought.

You're all in love

with that woman,

a b*tch like any other.

But you lack courage.

I'll show you what a man is.

I'll go myself.

And I'll have my way

with your angel.

Durc,

if you touch that woman,

I'll beat the hell out of you.

You're handsome when you're angry.

I swear I'll have my way with her.

You've been warned.

Yes. A forewarned man

is worth two. Good evening.

And what would you like, sir?

I'd like a dance with you, sweetie.

A nice slow one

while that guy

plucks at his guitar.

Lout! Lout!

What's this? One to one!

Hey, let go of him!

Let go of him. Let go.

Ok, come on.

Come outside and we'll settle this.

At your disposal.

Then I'll be at the disposal

of all the amateurs.

You'll deal with me next.

That's enough!

You'll be quiet now.

He treated me like a dog.

He's bothering everyone.

Settle your little drama elsewhere.

No!

I'll smash his face in.

Let us be, Lieutenant.

- Go sit down.

- I can't.

Bourrhis, don't force it.

You can jail us back in France,

but I'll show him.

Bourrhis!

Look, Mr. Durc,

Mr. Bourrhis,

it's of such little importance.

You won't fight, will you?

You're normally all so nice.

Mr. Durc didn't do any harm.

I've heard worse from the whalers.

Gentlemen, please sit down,

do it for me.

And your lieutenant

will go easy on you.

He'll forget your temper.

It's the storm

that's making us all upset.

- Fine.

- Another time.

- Just you wait.

I don't know how to thank you.

Don't exaggerate.

Fights between deckhands

are common around here.

Ok, go on, Charley.

With this weather,

it would be dangerous to row out.

I agree with you.

Better wait for a lull.

Yes, in other words, low tide,

in other words, dawn.

I think they'll agree to host us.

But someone should send

a signal to the ship.

Which one of us will have

the privilege of staying here

while the other one goes

to send the signal?

Heads or tails, what do you say?

Choose.

I don't care, as you wish.

Tails.

What should I signal?

"Weather permitting,

we'll be back aboard at low tide."

"Weather permitting,

we'll be back aboard at low tide."

- That's all?

- Yes.

What are they doing?

Whenever I have a message,

it's the same: no one aboard.

Where's the radioman?

Everyone is shirking his work,

and you most of all!

Where are your ore and your samples?

They haven't been analyzed.

Of course not!

What are you writing? A memoir?

- But, sir...

- Sir who?

"Negative."

That's the only word you know.

You do a good negative.

Where's the other guy?

I'd like to know

where the radioman is

and why everyone is late.

You know, sir, at all times,

crews that have gone ashore

tend to wash up after a bender.

It's just a minor shipwreck.

What about discipline?

It's not about discipline

but the storm.

And with the sea as it is now,

the officers have to wait for a lull

before coming aboard.

Come in.

The crew have just signaled.

"Weather permitting,

we'll be back aboard at low tide."

Listen to the wind.

That groans.

At the base of the storm.

The voice roams.

Carrying fates both good and ill.

Well?

The Pretoria

should be in sight by now

but given this fog...

Lieutenant, have a look,

your eyes are well rested.

What should I look for?

Did you just fall from the moon?

The Pretoria.

A valiant British freighter

that has gone off course

to drop us a bag of mail

they found at the Cape.

You communicated with the Pretoria

and you didn't inform him?

Yes, I'm sorry, Captain, I...

I didn't think of it.

And what did you think of?

Mr. Arlanger and I,

we're impatient.

I swear that,

despite the years I've spent at sea,

a letter from France sent like that,

it means something to me.

You know, Captain,

not everyone shows emotion

in the same way.

It also depends on various

circumstances.

Pardon us

for not having the same concerns

as you do.

And for not having

the luck of speculating

about the inexhaustible deposits

of pitchblende,

of the pearl of the Antarctic Ocean.

Sir, let's give our men a day off

so they can welcome

their British counterparts.

- Think so?

- I'm sure of it, it's customary.

Well, then...

Lieutenant, let the crew know.

Yes.

- Hey, boys!

- Yes?

Right, listen up.

You think the Brits will go ashore?

Well, yes.

- So, they'll go to the inn.

- Well...

Maybe they don't know about it.

- They'll find it.

- We'll see.

It's good

they're bringing the mail,

but all the same, the inn...

- It's ours.

- He's right.

We're islanders

and they're foreigners.

It's clear what we have to do.

We just have to get ashore

before them.

- And take over the inn.

- Exactly.

We'll spread out

and we won't leave

a single seat empty.

The Limeys will stay outside.

Hello.

A seat, my friend?

A little seat?

Give me a seat.

Thank you.

The door!

The Brits' report is precise

and justifiably insolent toward us.

So, here's the assessment

of your evening:

a half-dozen injuries,

the indignation

of the Pretoria's general staff

and the captain's refusal

to allow me aboard his vessel.

It's the 1st time I've been subjected

to such an affront.

I don't claim

that it is all your fault,

but didn't you

give the crew free rein?

Didn't you socialize with your men

and lose your authority?

Because the fight

must have been for a reason, no?

In the inn where you spend

all your free time,

there's a woman.

Lieutenant,

you must answer me frankly.

Discipline aboard the ship

and our professional honor

are at stake.

Was it because of that woman

that the fight

broke out?

In short, did the Saint-Joachim

fail in its duty

of maritime courtesy

over a deckhand's girl?

- You're wrong, Captain.

She's an irreproachable woman.

None of our men lay a hand on her.

None of our men let anyone

lay a hand on her.

That woman

has enviable courage and dignity.

She may have been

the underlying cause of the fight,

but only despite herself.

- My word,

it seems

as if you're all in love with her,

and you, Lieutenant, in particular.

Very well. You may take your leave.

What's wrong? Sit down.

Thank you.

I realize I was wrong

to ignore your warnings.

The causes

of a certain obvious disturbance

can be found

at the inn with that woman.

Of course.

A fight between sailors

isn't anything unusual.

What do you plan to do?

If I forbid the inn,

I risk provoking

an act of flagrant disobedience.

Indeed.

Careful, dear Captain.

We must know

exactly who that woman is.

The danger.

How about we visit the inn,

Captain?

Good idea.

The crew is at work,

let's go.

We have the perfect excuse:

paying for the damages.

Perfect. Pass me my fur.

Magnificent.

I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.

Not at all.

I'm the one who should apologize

for the Saint-Joachim

and the incident the other day.

Things like that happen

between crews.

Fortunately,

there was more noise than damage.

If I'd been there when it started,

maybe I could have...

I don't doubt it.

According to what I've been told,

it was somehow because of you

that they fought.

Because of me?

Oh, no, sir. Certainly not.

Long-haul sailors,

as soon as they see a woman,

they get ideas.

I know what they're like

and how to handle them.

But the Saint-Joachim crew,

I've nothing to say,

they are decent men,

like well-behaved children.

With a little song,

they smile and calm down.

Have you been on this island

a long time?

4 years.

No, 5.

My word, I can't remember.

Won't you have a little coffee?

Yes, I'm from Roscoff,

like my first husband,

a petty officer in the navy.

I followed him to Saigon,

but he fell ill and died.

So, the following year,

I married Charley,

a sailor himself.

During a big storm,

he got hit on the head.

He can't do anything anymore

except play his guitar.

I heard about this abandoned cabin,

by chance.

During the warm season,

there are whalers and seal hunters.

Rough men who don't go easy on drink.

In a few years,

I can go back home

and buy some land

for Jimmy to work.

I don't want him to be a sailor.

No, never.

Roscoff. I know the area well.

My cousins run the Hôtel de la Plage.

- The Sergent family?

- Yes.

You're a Sergent?

No, I'm a Sueur, from Le Havre.

My wife is from there,

and our youngest

is the same age as your son.

Less tanned, of course.

When I see them next,

we'll all be 2 years older.

Captain,

I think we came to settle

the question of damages.

Yes.

The lady will simply tell us

what the damages are.

Not much.

Everything's solid around here.

A couple of glasses,

two or three broken bottles.

For the glasses,

if the Saint-Joachim can afford it,

I'd prefer you replaced them.

To bring glasses here...

That's easy enough.

So, that's settled.

So long, my boy.

Ma'am.

It's incredible.

What's incredible?

That woman.

There's nothing dangerous

or seductive about her.

She's not flirtatious or provocative,

just good, wholesome ideas:

love and respect

for family and country.

She'll have

a superb influence on our men.

In short,

you suggest seeing her again?

I think it would be worthwhile.

Well, you're like the others,

smitten, infatuated, in love.

That ridiculous comment

is unworthy of you.

You should know

that no one mocks Captain Sueur.

If you think

it would really be worthwhile,

go ahead, Captain, go right ahead.

We'll be glad for the results.

I have assured you of the deposits.

Yet, the crew has fallen ill.

Come in.

Once again, sir,

my apologies

and I recognize that you were right.

Bourrhis's death

was an accident, as happens

during expeditions like this.

It's appalling.

No, sir,

I don't believe it was an accident.

I went there myself

to investigate.

And I found this tobacco pouch,

which belongs to the mechanic, Durc.

No, no detective novel,

no drama.

I assure you,

I'd prefer to return to the Cape.

What?

Given the general feeling

as a result of...

of Bourrhis's death,

I ordered everyone aboard,

and they complied.

- And?

- We can set off straight away.

Who is in charge here, you or me?

Am I speaking to a sailor

or to an old biddy

who's afraid of bandits?

If you're having hallucinations,

some bromide should help.

What's wrong?

I've come to tell you

the ship's boy isn't aboard.

What?

It's not hard to guess

where we'll find that kid.

But who should we send?

I don't trust anyone.

Simple: I'll go myself.

Perfect.

Lieutenant, take Mr. Arlanger

ashore on the dinghy.

But give me your word of honor

that you'll stay put when you land

and that you'll let Mr. Arlanger

go to the inn alone.

I promise.

I don't want your promise,

I want your word of honor.

You have my word.

Fine, you can get ready.

Molinier,

I'll come for you in half an hour.

I'm going to the inn. It's bad.

She will probably need you.

Excuse me,

I'm the one going to the inn.

You will wait for me here.

I was going to suggest

we trade roles. Go ahead.

Goodbye.

Hey!

Hey!

Hey, the Saint-Joachim!

The poor boy

came in like a lunatic.

He was crying.

I didn't know what to say.

I struggled to calm him down.

Leave him alone now,

let him rest.

Wait outside by the door.

Wait for me there.

Understand?

Go wait by the door. Go on!

You're not going to punish him,

are you?

You look worried. What's wrong?

I love you.

Won't you ever understand?

I love you.

What?

The Saint-Joachim's dinghy capsized.

- What?

- Yes, the keel in the air.

Oh! It's the devil's work.

Get the whaleboat ready.

I'll go down myself.

But no one leaves the ship

while I'm gone.

You can use force.

Take my revolver.

Fine, Captain.

Arlanger!

Arlanger!

Hey, the Saint-Joachim!

What happened?

Where is Arlanger?

I don't know, I left him here.

- You went to the inn?

- Yes.

Arlanger didn't hold you

to your word of honor?

He suggested it, I obeyed.

Unlikely.

Was it by releasing you

from your word

that Arlanger hurt you?

I didn't argue

with Mr. Arlanger.

With whom, then?

- I can't tell you that here.

- Very well.

Get on.

You can explain it aboard.

Come on, boys.

We have to keep looking.

So, Arlanger drowned

trying to come aboard

to look for Molinier

for some unknown purpose?

Gentlemen, I'd like to believe you.

Let's say Jacquet

was not involved

in our ship-owner's accident.

Let's say Durc wasn't involved

in our boatswain's accident.

Let's say it's all true.

But I've had it.

We'll set sail within the hour.

In an hour,

your ship will be up and running.

In an hour, Jacquet,

your men will be ready

to weigh anchors.

I'll blow out the brains

of anyone who flinches.

I'll remain at the helmsman's side

until we're 100 miles

from this damned rock.

Molinier, stay here.

I'll give you a message

for Le Havre

concerning our return

and the accidents.

You may leave, gentlemen.

Durc, here, take this.

We found your pouch there,

you know where.

The sun rises.

Coloring the house.

The heath and the river bank.

In Brittany,

Yann, at his threshold, breathes.

The sweet morning air.

Sees young Elvire.

And the bread wheat.

It's good and strong.

The men's land.

It is everlasting.

And will never betray them.

Since you left, every day,

every week, every month,

I understand it's you I love.

Here.

Another telegram

for your fiancée? Hang on.

Well, if the company

charged you for the telegrams,

you'd be broke.

You send twice as many as me,

but you sneak them!

It's different for me.

I'm a family man, look.

He's handsome.

But I already knew that.

You're getting married?

Married? As soon as we berth.

Even if my parents disown me,

I'm getting married.

Enough goofing around.

We were stupid, really stupid.

- When I think of it...

- Stop thinking of it.

I won't think of it.

- Arlanger was a crook...

- You could even say a gangster.

Fortunately the captain

found out about his dirty plot

and we didn't get caught up in it.

He wanted to get rid of us

and everyone who knew too much

about his alleged radium.

Say...

The geologist... you know,

the chemist,

do you think he was in on it?

He can't hurt a fly anymore.

I have to go.

- My telegram.

- I won't forget.

- Ah, Jacquet!

- Hello, Captain.

Check our position. We should be

1,400 miles from Le Havre.

Just 4 days away.

Boys, in 4 days, we'll be home.

In time for my wife's birthday.

They're expecting me

for my son's baptism.

I invite you all, especially you.

I'll show you how it's done.

I only like white sausage.

Sausage?

If you tasted the fish stew

my wife makes...

It's never just fish.

Tell me about some nice beef stew.

Come to my place someday,

Brindeau Street.

On Brindeau Street?

- That's a nice area.

- Yes.

Come in.

What's wrong?

It's that, Captain...

- It can't go on like this.

- What can't go on?

- You have reason to complain?

- No, Captain, it's not that.

It's just...

I'd rather tell you everything.

I'm the one who...

Be quiet.

There's nothing I don't know.

You have nothing to tell me.

You were crazy at that moment.

We were...

We were all mad.

You were no worse than anyone else.

A man owes his life to you.

If you have

a guilty conscience,

find a way to cope with it,

go on a pilgrimage,

redeem yourself.

We'll be in Le Havre in 4 days.

I'll take you off the crew.

You'll get your money,

you can sign on with another ship,

reform your character

and try to forget it.

Goodbye, Durc.

No, don't worry.

I just came to say goodbye.

So long, Jacquet,

but look at me a moment.

I'll go get my pay and then I'm off

to see my wife and child.

Ma'am, I have a little...

No, never mind.

No, go on.

So long.

So long, Mr. Jacquet, excuse me.

Lieutenant.

- Is it far, Papa?

- Yes, it's very far.

Is it beautiful there?

No! An ugly rock with nothing to see.

A ship

is coming from over there.

- It's not for us.

- When will one come for us?

- Later.

But when, later?