He threw the rope over the wheel and ran like a cat up the rigging.
Willy, in utmost danger of falling, was sliding and swinging along
between the sails of the fore and mainmast, every moment expecting that
his strength would give out and that he would fall on the planks of the
deck below or into the sea.

"Holy guardian angel," he cried, "take me; I cannot hold on any
longer!" Everything swam before his eyes, and in a moment he would
have fallen, if the helmsman had not, almost miraculously reached him
and seized him in his arms. He carried him down to the deck and laid
him in a dead faint on a pile of rope, and began working over him.
Before Redfox came down from the rigging Willy had recovered. "You
see," he said to Green, "my holy guardian angel did not leave me."

"Indeed, Master Willy, you speak the truth, for without the help of
your guardian angel I should not have been able to save you," affirmed
Green, wiping drops of cold sweat from his forehead. Then he thundered
at Redfox:

"Thank God, that you lay yourself down to rest tonight without a murder
on your conscience. It is no fault of yours that that boy came down
from the rigging alive."

"I forbid any such talk," answered Redfox without meeting the gaze of
the helmsman. "The stupid youngster got dizzy when I let go of his
jacket and started to get a better hold of his belt."

"No, no, Mr. Redfox," answered Willy firmly, "you pushed me instead of
getting hold of my bolt. I did not get dizzy."