th.

And Kemoc answered: "It is truth."

Then Larguen, in furious anger, seized hold of the silver chain that
bound Finola and Aed together, and of the chain by which Conn and
Ficra were bound, and dragged them away from the altar by which they
sat, that he might take them to his queen.

But as the king held their chains in his rude grasp, a wondrous thing
took place.

Instead of swans, there followed Larguen a very old woman,
white-haired and feeble, and three very old men, bony and wrinkled
and grey. And when Larguen beheld them, terror came upon him and he
hastened homeward, followed by the bitter denunciations of Kemoc. Then
the children of Lir, in human form at last, turned to Kemoc and
besought him to baptize them, because they knew that death was very
near.

"Thou art not more sorrowful at parting from us than we are to part
with you, dear Kemoc," they said. And Finola said, "Bury us, I pray
you, together."

"As oft in life my brothers dear
Were sooth'd by me to rest--
Ficra and Conn beneath my wings,
And Aed before my breast;

So place the two on either hand--
Close, like the love that bound me;
Place Aed as close before my face,
And twine their arms around me."

Joyce.

So Kemoc signed them in Holy Baptism with the blessed Cross, and even
as the water touched their foreheads, and while his words were in
their ears, death took them. And, as they passed, Kemoc looked up,
and, behold, four beautiful children, their faces radiant with joy,
and with white wings lined with silver, flying upwards to the clouds.
And soon they vanished from his sight and he saw them no more.

He buried them as Finola had wished, and raised a mound over them, and
carved their names on a stone.

And over it he sang a lament and prayed to the God of all love and
purity, a prayer for the pure and loving souls of those who had been
the children of Lir.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] The North Channel.

[12] Erris, in Mayo.

[13] A small island off Benmullet.

DEIRDRE

"Her beauty filled the old world of the Gael with a
sweet, wonderful, and abiding rumour. The name of
Deirdre has been as a harp to a thousand poets. In a
land of heroes and brave and beautiful women, how shall
one name survive? Yet to this day and for ever, men will
remember Deirdre...."

Fiona Macleod.

So long ago, that it was before the birth of our Lord, so says
tr