He abducted her then physically and sexually assaulted her before fleeing, leaving her to make her way home. The word of the outrage quickly spread through the town and search parties were out looking for Ellis, but he evaded capture.
The next morning, a man answering the description given of the attacker was seen on Kuratawhiti St but, when challenged, managed to find his way into the bush, heading south. His chasers caught him later that day at Moroa and he was taken into custody. After a hearing at the Greytown courthouse, Ellis was remanded to Wellington. He was lucky to make it as a crowd had gathered outside the courtroom to exact their own punishment, but Constable Eccleton, with assistance from some of the more sanguine locals, was able to spirit him away.
He was convicted at trial in early July 1882, the jury returning their verdict almost immediately. In sentencing him, Judge Richmond said he must make an example of Ellis. "Your crime is one that disgraces human nature. It is the crime of the brute, and you must receive the punishment of a brute. The judgment of the court upon you is that you be kept in penal servitude in the colony of New Zealand for the term of 12 years and, further, that, you be twice whipped, receiving at each whipping 30 strokes with the instrument commonly called the cat-of-nine-tails." The sentence was received with loud applause.
In August, it was reported that the first flogging had been carried out -- it was said to have been severe and, although Ellis had taken the punishment stolidly, at times he had been unable to stop crying out with pain. The second flogging was carried out in October, again vigorously; Ellis's back becoming raw and bloody. Although he once more bore the punishment with dogged determination, this time he turned to the officer who had administered the flogging with a look of intense hatred, saying he would make him pay for it. He also threatened others who were present.
Ellis served his time and then disappeared from the record for nearly 20 years. It became obvious, however, that he carved out a new name for himself, and returned to Wairarapa, where he worked as a labourer on farms, and sometimes took contracts for scrub clearing and similar work. He also changed his name, becoming known as John McKenzie.
In 1903, John McKenzie was working on the Riddiford family's Te Awaiti Station, working for Leonard Collinson, a well-educated Englishman who had won a contract for scrub cutting. McKenzie was a rough diamond, suspected of poaching deer, but he was a hard worker and liked well enough by his fellow workers. Oddly enough one of those was Denis Reardon, a relative of Mary O'Connor's.
Collinson noticed that McKenzie never took his shirt off, no matter how hot the day became. He deduced that he must have been flogged at some time in the past and wanted to keep his punishment a secret. He asked around and quickly came to the conclusion that McKenzie was actually Ellis. Collinson started teasing Ellis, asking him to take his shirt off, and saying he knew why he would not. The atmosphere between the two men quickly became very strained.
In May 1903, Collinson sacked Ellis after the station's manager said he should be dismissed as he had been shooting deer on Te Awaiti and Glenburn, and been selling the meat to Collinson's cook. It was also claimed that Ellis had been seen shooting sheep on both properties. Ellis continued to live on the Te Awaiti property, shooting deer to make a living, and largely keeping out of sight of the station staff. He became increasingly bitter about his treatment and was reported to have made threats.
In late February 1904, Ellis struck, hiding among the scrub and shooting Collinson, killing him. Police quickly came to the conclusion that it had been Ellis and mounted a hunt for him. McKenzie had taken off though and it was to be 10 months before he was tracked down, living in a hut in the bush near Maraekakaho, in Hawke's Bay.
In January 1905, Ellis was up before the magistrate in Wellington and committed for trial in the Supreme Court in early February.
The trial was a sensation, with most newspapers throughout the country carrying extensive coverage. At one stage, the court adjourned to the site of the murder, travelling to Featherston by train, then through Martinborough by coach as far as they could, before switching to horseback to make their way out to the isolated site on the Wairarapa coast.
In court a number of Ellis's workmates, some of who said they were his friends, gave evidence as to his increasing animosity towards Collinson. They said he had been seen on Te Awaiti in the months leading up to the killing, and Denis Reardon said that the man he knew as McKenzie had told him he would be avenged on Collinson. Chillingly, he said Ellis had also told him he had stalked another man and had him in his rifle sights before changing his mind.
The fourth and last day of the trial was taken up with closing arguments, the defence electing not to offer any evidence. The jury retired for only an hour-and-a-half before returning with a guilty verdict, albeit with a "recommendation to mercy, on the ground of great provocation". Judge Denniston told Ellis he would forward the recommendation to the authorities, but also told him not to hold hopes. He then pronounced the death sentence.
The judge's view was proven correct -- the recommendation for mercy was ignored and the death sentence was carried out. Tom Long, the nation's hangman, and frequent Wairarapa resident was brought to the Terrace Gaol in Wellington, and Ellis, still protesting his innocence, was hanged.
The cottage's builder, John O'Connor, lived until 1915, his wife, Mary, until 1931.
They were predeceased by their elder daughter, Ellen, who died in 1901. Their other daughter, Eliza, who had married cricketer and compositor Herbert Haggett, inherited the Cobblestones cottage and kept it until her death in 1961, renting it out as she lived in Petone. Their son, John Hugh O'Connor, died in Greytown in 1935.