Although, from the nature of the testimony before the coroner's jury, and the numerous developments in other directions, the arrest of the ex-president of the Irish National League of America was not entirely unexpected, it nevertheless produced a profound sensation, not only in the United States, but also across the Atlantic. By many of his friends and acquaintances in Ireland, the news was at first received with incredulity, and afterward, when confirmation had been flashed over the wires, with expressions of astonishment and denunciation of the course of the authorities. Men like Charles Stewart Parnell and Michael Davitt were not slow or conservative of words in giving utterance to the opinion that a serious mistake had been made; that Sullivan was an honest man, a patriot, a true worker in the cause of Irish liberty, and altogether a man whom it would be impossible to convict of identity with a conspiracy to assassinate one of his enemies. Meanwhile the Chicago friends of the accused lawyer were not inactive. Bright and early on the morning following his arrest they were in conference, for the purpose of determining upon the best course to pursue in order that his freedom could be secured. As a result of their deliberations, Counsellor A. S. Trude, one of the leading members of the Chicago bar, appeared before Chancellor Tuley upon the opening of the court, and secured a writ of _habeas corpus_, calling upon Sheriff Matson to produce his prisoner in court at three o'clock in the afternoon. The news spread rapidly. Popular feeling had been re-kindled by the events of the week, and, long before the hour designated, the court room was besieged by a crowd of people anxious to see the distinguished suspect. Sullivan was brought into the court room promptly on time, under escort of the sheriff and a couple of broad-shouldered deputies. Owing to some difficulty in securing a vehicle, and the stoppage of the street cars through an accident, the sheriff and his prisoner had been compelled to walk from the jail to the court room, a distance of nearly one mile, and strange as it may seem, although the route took them through a leading thoroughfare crowded with people coming and going, not one seemed to recognize the official or his companion. No one would have imagined for a moment that the latter had been the occupant of a cell over night. His linen was immaculate, and his attire--a neat fitting Prince Albert suit of black diagonal, with a black cravat tied in a simple knot over the snowy shirt bosom and the turn-down collar--was absolutely faultless. The occasion was one to try the soul of a strong man, but as he looked over the court room and glanced into the faces of many of his bitterest enemies, his expression was stoical, and he shook hands in a cheerful manner with several friends who were in court to show their allegiance to him. As counsel, he had Attorneys Trude, Windes and McArdle--the two