Year: 1869

i've, said Mr.. F., is in reference to
young girl, who many years ago was
accused of murder. There are those
vet in New Orleans who will remember
the details of the case. At the time ii
created an intense excitement, which
subsequent revelation did not intend to
lessen.


In one of our fashionable millinery
establishments was young girl named
Mary Elliston. She was very young,
but with a character formed by the Fad
experience which is sure to be met with
in the life ofan orphan. She had clear,
beautiful gray eyes, and cheeks soft and
delicate as the leaf of the rose; brown
curly hair shaded low broad forehead,
instinct with intellect and intelligence.
She was small in figure, but the petite
frame was faultless in its exquisite de-
licacy of outline and contour. 1t was
impossible not to love if to such physical
beauty is added the generous and kind
heart she really possessed.


1t is not surprising that such girl
had many admirers. It would be strange
if she had not. But there were two
whom from their devotion and her
treatment, acquired prominence over
she rest. Indeed the sphere they moved
in was far above that of the little MILL
ner. She believed they loved her; and,
notwithstanding the great difference in
their social position, that they loved is
certain. They were jealous and more
than once hostile meeting was immi-
nent between them.


Her way home from the store led by
jackson square. 1t was not as beauti-
full then as now but its rich foliage
and elegant flowers at that day even ex-
cited admiration.


One evening, as she passed along the
riverside of the square she was met by,
Louisand Lacour, the richest and most
pcrsevering of her admirers, but the
one whom she favored least.


Indeed, it was said she disliked him,
and on one occasion had resented bitterly
an insult he had offered her. A passer
by heard her voice raised Indignantly,
as he passed them that evening in front
Of the iron gate. Standing here a mo-
mcnt, they entered the square from
which half hour afterward, she was
seen to hurry away, with every sign of
distress aud intense excitemet.


1t was but few moments after this
that young Lacour was found-murler-
ed-lying on the iron bench, with a
short Spanish dagger through his heart
The girl had been known to possess
such a weapon-the gift Of one she
never named.


This was all.


Of course, almost every one believed
her to be the assassin. I could not. l
had seen too much of criminal life to
mistake its characteristics. That the
girl was innocent l knew. When ar
rested she protested her innocence in
language frantic and wild. Terror had
made her forgetful, seemingly, of look
and action and she gave way to the most
excessive paroxism of grief and dis
tress.


After she was taken to the station,
Mr.. land myself visited her to see
if we could learn anything of her case.
We felt more like friends. The sad
orphanage of the young girl touched
our hearts-they would have been linty
indeed had they not softered at her dis
trcss. I never saw such anguish be-
fore. The pale, beautiful face was al
most wild with terror. She was frantic
one moment, and then sobbing, wailing
and terror-stricken the next. As we
entered the cell she threw herself at
my feet and lifted her face, so pale and
walled out, Il am innocent, sir-I am
innocent.


"I believe you are Mary; and it was
to help you that we came here"


~ could not do such deed, sir, in
decd l could not"


M know that, but, Mary do you know
who did ?"


She lifted her face quickly, and a
wild frightened expression crossed it,
and then it grew like marble on the in