duct toward the defeated is doubtless due much of the magnanimity exercised by the visitors towards those who, according to strict rule, had no right to expect mercy. While the mingled party was still at the table, it was whispered in Marion's ear that Colonel Lee's men were even then engaged in hanging certain of the Tory prisoners. Marion instantly hurried from the table, seized his sword and, running with all haste, reached the place of execution in time to rescue one poor wretch from the gallows. With drawn sword and a degree of indignation that spoke more than words, Marion threatened to kill the first man that made any further attempt in such diabolical proceedings. Mrs. Motte's gentle kindness in the face of personal loss had pointed the way to Christian warfare.
When an attack upon Charleston was apprehended, and every man able to render service was summoned to aid in throwing up intrenchments for the defense of the city, Mrs. Motte dispatched a messenger to her plantation, and ordered down to Charleston every male slave capable of work, providing each, at her own expense, with proper implements and a soldier's rations. The value of this unexpected aid was enhanced by the spirit which prompted the patriotic offer.
When, indeed, the British took possession of Charleston, the house in which Mrs. Motte resided was selected as the headquarters of the English colonels in command, but she determined not to be driven out, and with inimitable grace and tact, she continued to preside at the head of her own table in a company of thirty British officers, who may have been disconcerted at being treated as guests, but who certainly could not complain of her hospitality. The duties forced upon her were discharged with exquisite tact, yet she always replied with spirit to the discourteous taunts frequently uttered in her presence against her "rebel countrymen." In many scenes of danger and disaster her fortitude was put to the test, yet, through all, this noble-
