"Castle Stanley—Loch Stanley—that was now established; let them take their title from what belonged to them, which was the island. Ay; but do ye think the people about here would follow the change?" Mr. Purdie went on, with something more of vindictiveness coming into his tone. "Would they? Not one o’ them, the stubborn deevils! There was not an old bedridden woman, there was not a laddie on his way to school, ye could get to say ’Castle Stanley’ or ’Loch Stanley’; it was Loch Heimra and Castle Heimra from every one; and they held on to it as if it had been the Westminster Confession of Faith—the dour and bigoted animals they are! Even the very gamekeepers, that ye might think would be afraid o’ losing their situation, they were just like the rest, though they had their plausible and cunning excuses. ’You see, Mr. Stanley,’ they would say, ’if we tell the gillies about Castle Stanley they will think it is Lochgarra House we mean; and if we send them to Loch Stanley, they will be going down to the seashore.’ But well I know who was at the back of all their stubbornness," the factor continued, with a scowling face. "Well I know: it was that idling, mischievous, thrawn-natured, impudent ne’er-do-weel, egging them on, and egging them on, and keeping himself in the background all the time. The dignity of his family! I suppose that was what he was after—the old castle and the old name; so that strangers might think that his mother and he had still property on the mainland! And I warned your uncle about it. I warned him. I told him that as long as that graceless scoundrel was in the neighbourhood there would be nothing but spite and opposition on the part of the tenantry. ’Well, then,’ said he, ’for spite there will be spite, if it comes to that!’ Miss Stanley, your uncle was not a man to be defied." "I know," said Mary, with downcast face: she foresaw what was coming—and did not at all share in the savage glee the factor was beginning to betray.