Mr. Macshane had, however, like Mr. Conrad, the Corsair, one virtue
in the midst of a thousand crimes,--he was faithful to his employer
for the time being: and a story is told of him, which may or may
not be to his credit, viz. that being hired on one occasion by a
certain lord to inflict a punishment upon a roturier who had crossed
his lordship in his amours, he, Macshane, did actually refuse from
the person to be belaboured, and who entreated his forbearance, a
larger sum of money than the nobleman gave him for the beating;
which he performed punctually, as bound in honour and friendship.
This tale would the Ensign himself relate, with much
self-satisfaction; and when, after the sudden flight from London, he
and Brock took to their roving occupation, he cheerfully submitted
to the latter as his commanding officer, called him always Major,
and, bating blunders and drunkenness, was perfectly true to his
leader. He had a notion--and, indeed, I don't know that it was a
wrong one--that his profession was now, as before, strictly
military, and according to the rules of honour. Robbing he called
plundering the enemy; and hanging was, in his idea, a dastardly and
cruel advantage that the latter took, and that called for the
sternest reprisals.

The other gentlemen concerned were strangers to Mr. Brock, who felt
little inclined to trust either of them upon such a message, or with
such a large sum to bring back. They had, strange to say, a similar
mistrust on their side; but Mr. Brock lugged out five guineas, which
he placed in the landlady's hand as security for his comrade's
return; and Ensign Macshane, being mounted on poor Hayes's own
horse, set off to visit the parents of that unhappy young man. It
was a gallant sight to behold our thieves' ambassador, in a faded
sky-blue suit with orange facings, in a pair of huge jack-boots