But the time came when the nine hundred years of banishment were ended,and they might fly back to their father's old home, Finnaha. Flying fordays above the sea, they alighted at the palace once so well known, buteverything was changed by time--even the walls of their father's palacewere crumbled and rain-washed. So sad was the sight that they remained oneday only, and flew back to Inis Glora, thinking that if they must beforever solitary, they would live where they had lived last, not wherethey had been reared.One May morning, as the children of Lir floated in the air around theisland of Inis Glora, they heard a faint bell sounding across the easternsea. The mist lifted, and they saw afar off, beyond the waves, a vision ofa stately white-robed priest, with attendants around him on the Irishshore. They knew that it must be St. Patrick, the Tailkenn, or TonsuredOne, who was bringing, as had been so long promised, Christianity toIreland. Sailing through the air, above the blue sea, towards their nativecoast, they heard the bell once more, now near and distinct, and they knewthat all evil spirits were fleeing away, and that their own hopes were tobe fulfilled. As they approached the land, St. Patrick stretched his handand said, "Children of Lir, you may tread your native land again." And thesweet swan-sister, Finola, said, "If we tread our native land, it can onlybe to die, after our life of nine centuries.
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