The first witness called was Jeremiah Sullivan, who deposed that at one of the Christmas markets in 1798 he was present when an altercation took place between his late brother Bartle and the prisoner. They were both drinking, and their friends separated them. He never saw his brother alive afterwards. He then deposed to the finding of his brother's coat and hat, crushed and torn. The next witness was Roddy Duncan, who deposed that on the night in question he was passing on a car and saw a man drag something heavy, like a sack. He then called out was that Condy Dalton? And the reply was, "It is, unfortunately!" upon which he wished him good-night. Next came the Prophet. He said he was on his way through Glendhu, when he came to a lonely spot where he found the body of Bartholomew Sullivan, and beside it a grave dug two feet deep. He then caught a glimpse of the prisoner, Condy Dalton, among the bushes, with a spade in his hand. He shouted out and, getting no answer, was glad to get off safe. On the cross-examination, he said "the reason why he let the matter rest until now was that he did not wish to be the means of bringin' a fellow-creature to an untimely death. His conscience, however, always kept him uneasy, and many a time of late the murdhered man appeared to him, and threatened him for not disclosing what he knew." "You say the murdered man appeared to you. Which of them?" "Peter Magennis--what am I sayin'? I mean Bartle Sullivan." The counsel for the defence requested the judge and jury to make a note of Peter Magennis, and then asked the Prophet what kind of a man Bartle Sullivan was. "He was a very remarkable man in appearance; stout, with a long face, and a scar on his chin." "And you saw that man murdered?" "I seen him dead after havin' been murdhered." "Do you think, now, if he were to rise again from the grave that you would know him?" Then the counsel turned round, spoke to some person behind, and a stranger advanced and mounted a table confronting the Black Prophet. "Whether you seen me dead or buried is best known to yourself," said the stranger. "All I can say is that here I am, Bartle Sullivan, alive an' well." Hearing the name, crowds pressed forward, recognising Bartle Sullivan, and testifying their recognition by a general cheer. There were two persons present, however, Condy Dalton and the Prophet, on whom Sullivan's appearance produced very opposite effects. Old Dalton at first imagined himself in a dream, and it was only when Sullivan, promising to explain all, came over and shook hands with him, and asked his pardon, that the old man understood he was innocent. The Prophet looked with mortification rather than wonder at Sullivan; then a shadow settled on his countenance, and he muttered to himself, "I am doomed! Something drove me to this." The trial was quickly ended. Sullivan's brother and several jurors established his identity, and Condy Dalton was discharged.