His conscience, however, always kept him uneasy, and to tell the truth, he had neither peace nor rest for many a long year, in consequence of concealing his knowledge of the murder, and he now came forward to free his own mind from what he had suffered by it.
He wished both parties well, and he hoped no one would blame him for what he was doing, for, indeed, of late, he could not rest in his bed at night.

Many a time the murdhered man appeared to him, and threatened him, he thought for not disclosing what he knew.
At this moment, there was a slight bustle at that side of the court where the counsel for the defense sat, which, after a little time, subsided, and the evidence was about to close, when the latter gentleman, after having closely cross-examined him to very little purpose, said: "So you tell us, that in consequence of your very tender conscience, you have not, of late, been able to rest in your bed at night ?" "I do." "And you say the murdered man appeared to you and threatened you ?" "I do." "Which of them ?" "Peter Magennis--what am I sayin'?
I mean Bartle Sullivan." "Gentlemen of the jury, you will please take down the name of Peter Magennis--will your lordship also take a note of that?
Well," he proceeded, "will you tell us what kind of a man this Bartle or Bartholomew Sullivan was ?" "He was a very remarkable man in appearance; very stout, with a long face, a slight scar on his chin, and a cast in his eye." "Do you remember which of them ?" "Indeed I don't, an' it wouldn't be raison able that I should, afther sich a distance of time." "And, you saw that man murdered ?" "I seen him dead, afther having been murdhered." "Very right--I stand corrected.

Well, you saw him buried ?" "I didn't see him buried, but I saw him dead, as I said, an' the grave ready for him." "Do you think now if he were to rise again from that grave, that you would know him ?" "Well I'm sure I can't say.

By all accounts the grave makes great changes, but if it didn't change him very much entirely, it wouldn't be hard to know him again--for, as I said, he was a remarkable man." "Well, then, we shall give you an opportunity of refreshing your memory--here," he said, addressing himself to some person behind him; "come forward--get up on the table, and stand face to face with that man." The stranger advanced--pushed over to the corner of the table, and, mounting it, stood, as he had been directed, confronting the Black Prophet.
"Whether you seen me dead," said the stranger, "or whether you seen me buried, is best known to yourself; all I can say is, that here I am--by name Bartle Sullivan, alive an' well, thanks be to the Almighty for it!" "What is this ?" asked the judge, addressing Dalton's counsel; "who is this man ?" "My lord," replied that gentleman, "this is the individual for the murder of whom, upon the evidence of these two villains, the prisoner at the bar stands charged.

It is a conspiracy as singular as it is diabolical; but one which, I trust, we shall clear up, by and by." "I must confess, I do not see my way through it at present," returned the judge; "did not the prisoner at the bar acknowledge his guilt ?--had you not some difficulty in getting him to plead not guilty?
Are you sure, Mr.O'Hagan, that this stranger is not a counterfeit ?" The reply of counsel could not now be heard--hundreds in the court house, on hearing his name, and seeing him alive and well before them, at once recognized his person, and testified their recognition by the usual manifestations of wonder, satisfaction and delight.