he shook his stick at him, and swore that “before he slept he’d know whether he had brains or not.”  Their friends then took them different ways, he was separated from them, and knows nothing further about what happened.  He never saw his brother alive afterwards.  He then deposed to the finding of his coat and hat, each in a crushed and torn state.  The footmarks in the corner of the field were proved to have been those of his brother and the prisoner, as the shoes of each exactly fitted them when tried.  He was then asked how it could be possible, as his brother had altogether disappeared, to know whether his shoes fitted the foot-prints or not, to which he replied, that one of his shoes was found on the spot the next morning, and that a second pair, which he had at home, were also tried, and fitted precisely.

The next witness was Rody Duncan, who deposed that on the night in question, he was passing on a car, after having sold a load of oats in the market.  On coming to the corner of the field, he saw a man drag or carry something heavy like a sack, which, on seeing him, Rody, he (the man,) left hastily inside the ditch, and stooped, as if to avoid being known.  He asked the person what he was about, who replied that, “he hoped he was no gauger;” by which he understood that he was concerned in private distillation, and that it might have been malt; an opinion in which he was confirmed, on hearing the man’s voice, which he knew to be that of the prisoner, who had been engaged in the poteen work for some years.  One thing struck him, which he remembered afterwards, that the prisoner had a hat in his 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