Columba found St. Abban in the Church of one of his religious foundations, known amongst the people as the "Cell of Tears" on account of the contrition of the penitents who frequented it. He besought the holy abbot to pray for the souls of those who through his fault had met their death, and the thought of whose fate had destroyed his peace. He entreated Abban also to pray to God that He would reveal to him through the angel who spoke to him continually of the things of heaven, whether they were saved or lost. The humility of the holy abbot would not allow him for a long time to accede to this last request; but in the end, so moved was he by the anguish of Columba, that he fell on his knees and implored of God to give this comfort to a soul in pain. The knowledge that he asked was given him; he returned with great joy to his visitor to tell him that, through the infinite mercy of God, the souls of all who had fallen on that fatal day had been saved. The chief solicitude of Columba was now at rest, but the future was not yet clear before him. How was he to mould his life that the days to come might be an atonement for the fault that was past? He had learnt his own weakness, he must lean more than ever on the Strength that cannot fail, and the desire for a more perfect expiation was strong in his heart. He determined to seek out St. Molaise, his "soul's friend," in the lonely isle of Inishmurry and to ask his counsel. St. Molaise knew well the character of his penitent. The penance that would satisfy that great heart must be full and complete. To Columba the love of country came next to the love of God; the decision was taken ere the penitent had ceased to speak. It had been decreed, said he, by the Synod that Columba was to win to the faith of Christ as many men as had perished at the battle of Cuil-dreimhne. Let him do so; but that the atonement might be more perfect let him go forth from his own people and his own land, and never look upon the hills of Erin again. Columba bowed his head before the sentence. "It shall be done," he answered, and none but God was to know what the doing cost him. It only remained to break the news to his friends and kinsfolk. A wail of sorrow rang through Tir-Connell at the tidings.