hand; and when it was observed in the
cross-examination that the hat might have been his own, he replied that
he did not think it could, as he had his own on his head at the time.
He then asked was that Condy Dalton, and the reply was, "it is,
unfortunately;" upon which he wished him good-night, and drove
homewards. He remembers the night well, as he lived at that time down at
the Long Ridge, and caught a severe illness on his way home, by reason
of a heavy shower that wet him to the skin. He wasn't able to leave the
house for three months afterwards. It was an unlucky night any way.

Next came the Prophet. It was near daybreak on the morning of the same
night, and he was on his way through Glendhu. He was then desired to
state what it was that brought him through Glendhu at such an hour. He
would tell the truth, as it was safe to do so now--he had been making
United Irishmen that night, and, at all events, he was on his keeping,
for the truth was, he had been reported to government, and there was a
warrant out for him. He was then desired to proceed in his evidence,
and he did so. On his way through Glendhu he came to a very lonely
spot, where he had been obliged to hide, at that time, more than once or
twice, himself. Here, to his surprise, he found the body of a man
lying dead, and he knew it at once to be that of the late Bartholomew
Sullivan; beside it was a grave dug, about two feet deep. He was
astonished and shocked, and knew not what to say; but he felt that
murder had been committed, and he became dreadfully afraid. In his
confusion and alarm he looked about to try if he could see any person
near, when he caught a glimpse of the prisoner, Condy Dalton, crouched
among a clump of black-thorn bushes, with a spade in his hands. It
instantly came into his head that he, the prisoner, on finding himself
discovered, might murder him also; and, in order to prevent the other
from supposing that he had seen him, he shouted out and asked is there
any body near? and hearing no answer, he was glad to get off safe. In
less than an hour he was on his way out of the country, for on coming
within sight of his own house, he saw it surrounded with soldiers, and
he lost no time in going to England, where, in about a month afterwards,
he heard that the prisoner had been hanged for the murder, which was
an untrue account of the affair, as he, the prisoner, had only been
imprisoned for a time, which he supposed led to the report.