[XV.] The sea between Erin and Alban (Ireland and Scotland) was anciently called the Sea of Moyle, from the Moyle, or Mull, of Cantire. [XVI.] Irros Domnann; Erris, in the county Mayo. Inis Glora; a small island about five miles west from Belmullet, in the same county, still known by the same name. [XVII.] Taillkenn, a name given by the druids to St. Patrick. CHAPTER IV. THE FOUR WHITE SWANS ON LAKE DARVRA. When Eva arrived at the house of Bove Derg, the chiefs bade her welcome; and the king asked her why she had not brought the Children of Lir to him. "Because," she replied, "Lir no longer loves thee; and he does not wish to intrust his children to thee, lest thou shouldst harm them." The king was greatly astonished and troubled at this, and he said, "How can that be? For I love those children better than I love my own." But he thought in his own mind that Eva had played some treachery on them. And he sent messengers with all speed northwards to Shee Finnaha, to inquire for the children, and to ask that they might be sent to him. When the messengers had told their errand, Lir was startled; and he asked, "Have the children not reached the palace with Eva?" They answered, "Eva arrived alone, and she told the king that you refused to let the children come." A sad and sorrowful heart had Lir when he heard this; and he now felt sure that Eva had destroyed his four lovely children. So, early next morning, his chariot was yoked for him, and he set out with his attendants for the king's palace; and they travelled with all speed till they arrived at the shore of Lake Darvra. The children of Lir saw the cavalcade approaching; and Finola spoke these words-- I see a mystic warrior band From yonder brow approach the strand; I see them winding down the vale, Their bending chariots slow advancing; I see their shields and gilded mail, Their spears and helmets brightly glancing. Ah! well I know that proud array; I know too well their thoughts to-day: The Dannan host and royal Lir; Four rosy children they are seeking: Too soon, alas! they find us here, Four snowy swans like children speaking! Come, brothers dear, approach the coast, To welcome Lir's mysterious host. Oh, woful welcome! woful day, That never brings a bright to-morrow! Unhappy father, doomed for aye To mourn our fate in hopeless sorrow! When Lir came to the shore, he heard the birds speaking, and, wondering greatly, he asked them how it came to pass that they had human voices. "Know, O Lir," said Finola, "that we are thy four children, who have been changed into swans and ruined by the witchcraft of our stepmother, our own mother's sister, Eva, through her baleful jealousy." When Lir and his people heard this, they uttered three long mournful cries of grief and lamentation. After a time, their father asked them, "Is it possible to restore you to your own shapes?"