"Mrs Blanche! Mrs Clare! If you 'll none miss th' biggest sight ever you saw, make haste and busk [dress] you, and come down to hall. There's th' biggest ship ever were i' these parts drove ashore o' Penny Bank. Th' Master, and Dick, and Sim, and Abel 's all gone down to th' shore, long sin'." "What manner of ship, Jennet?" asked both the girls at once. "I'm none fur learnt i' ships," said Jennet, shaking her head. "Sim said 'twere a Spaniard, and Dick said 'twere an Englishman; and Abel bade 'em both hold their peace for a pair o' gaumless [stupid] noodles." "But what saith my father?" cried excited Blanche, who had forgotten all about the fit of her cap. "Eh, bless you!--he's no noodle: Why, he said he'd see 't afore he told anybody what 't were." "Barbara, be quick, dear heart, an' thou lovest me. Let the cap be; only set my ruff.--Jennet! can we see it hence?" "You'll see 't off th' end o' th' terrace, right plain afore ye," said Jennet, and summarily departed. There was no loitering after that. In a very few minutes the two girls were dressed, Blanche's ruff being satisfactory in a shorter time than Barbara could ever remember it before. Clare stayed for her prayers, but Blanche dashed off without them, and made her way to the end of the terrace, where her sister presently joined her. "She is a Spaniard!" cried Blanche, in high excitement. "Do but look on her build, Clare. She is not English-built, as sure as this is Venice ribbon." Clare disclaimed, with a clear conscience, all acquaintance with shipbuilding, and declined even to hazard a guess as to the nationality of the ill-fated vessel. But Blanche was one of those who must be (or seem to be; either will do) conversant with every subject under discussion. So she chattered on, making as many blunders as assertions, until at last, just at the close of a particularly absurd mistake, she heard a loud laugh behind her. "Well done, Blanche!" said her father's voice. "I will get thee a ship, my lass. Thou art as fit to be a sea-captain, and come through a storm in the Bay of Biscay, as--thy popinjay." [Parrot.] "O Father, be there men aboard yonder ship?" said Clare, earnestly. "Ay, my lass," he replied, more gravely. "An hundred and seventy souls--there were, last night, Clare." "And what?"--Clare's face finished the question. "There be nine come ashore," he added in the same tone. "And the rest, Father?" asked Clare piteously. "Drowned, my lass, every soul, in last night's storm." "O Father, Father!" cried Clare's tender heart. "Good lack!" said Blanche. "Is she English, Father?" "The Dolorida, of Cales, [Cadiz] my maid." "Spanish!" exclaimed Blanche, her excitement returning. "And what be these nine men, Father?" "There be two of them poor galley-slaves; two sailors; and four soldiers, of the common sort. No officers; but one young gentleman, of a good house in Spain, that was come abroad for his diversion, and to see the sight."