of his counsel, with some vague notion of his resurrection from the grave, filled his mind with such a morbid and uncertain feeling of everything about him that he began to imagine himself in a dream, and that his reason must soon awaken to the terrible reality of his situation.  A dimness of perception, in fact, came ever all his faculties, and for some minutes he could not understand the nature of the proceedings around him.  The reaction was too sudden for a mind that had been broken down so long, and harrassed so painfully, by impressions of remorse and guilt.  The consequence was, that he had forgot, for a time, the nature of his situation—­all appeared unintelligible confusion about him,—­he could see a multitude of faces, and the people, all agitated by some great cause of commotion, and that was, then, all he could understand about it.

“What is this,” said he to himself;—­“am I on my trial?—­or is it some dhrame that I’m dhramin’ at home in my own poor place among my heart-broken family?”

A little time, however, soon undeceived him, and awoke his honest heart to a true perception of his happiness.

“My lord,” said the strange man, in reply to the judge’s last observation, “I am no counterfeit—­an’ I thank my good an’ gracious God that I have been able to come in time to save this worthy and honest man’s life.  Condy Dalton,” said he, “I can explain all; but in the mane time let me shake hands wid you, and ax your pardon for the bad tratement and provocation I gave you on that unlucky day—­well may I say so, so far as you are concerned—­for, as I hear, an’ as I see, indeed, it has caused you and your family bitter trouble and sorrow.”

“Bartle Sullivan!  Merciful Father, is this all right? is it real?  No dhrame, then! an’ I have my ould friend by the hand—­let me see—­let me feel you!—­it is—­it’s truth—­but, there now—­I don’t care who sees me—­I must offer one short prayer of thanksgivin’ to my marciful God, who has released me from the snares of my enemies, an’ taken this great weight off o’ my heart!” As he-spoke, he elapsed his hands, looked up with an expression of deep and heartfelt gratitude to heaven, then knelt down in a corner of the dock, and returned thanks to God.

The Prophet, on beholding the man, stood more in surprise than astonishment, and seemed evidently filled more with mortification rather than wonder.  He looked around the court with great calmness, and then fastening his eyes upon Sullivan, studied, or I appeared to study, his features for a considerable time.  A shadow so dark or we should rather say, so fearfully black settled upon his countenance, that it gave him an almost supernatural aspect; it looked in fact, as if the gloom of his fate had fallen upon him in the midst of his plans and iniquities.  He seemed, for a moment, to feel this himself; for while the confusion and murmurs were spreading through the court, he muttered to himself—­

“I am doomed; I did this, as if something drove me to it; however, if I could only be sure that the cursed box was really lost, I might laugh at the world still.”