The particular embodiment of the evil principle now exciting Mr Tulliver’s determined resistance was Mr Pivart, who, having lands higher up the Ripple, was taking measures for their irrigation, which either were, or would be, or were bound to be (on the principle that water was water), an infringement on Mr Tulliver’s legitimate share of water-power. Dix, who had a mill on the stream, was a feeble auxiliary of Old Harry compared with Pivart. Dix had been brought to his senses by arbitration, and Wakem’s advice had not carried _him_ far. No; Dix, Mr Tulliver considered, had been as good as nowhere in point of law; and in the intensity of his indignation against Pivart, his contempt for a baffled adversary like Dix began to wear the air of a friendly attachment. He had no male audience to-day except Mr Moss, who knew nothing, as he said, of the “natur’ o’ mills,” and could only assent to Mr Tulliver’s arguments on the _a priori_ ground of family relationship and monetary obligation; but Mr Tulliver did not talk with the futile intention of convincing his audience, he talked to relieve himself; while good Mr Moss made strong efforts to keep his eyes wide open, in spite of the sleepiness which an unusually good dinner produced in his hard-worked frame. Mrs Moss, more alive to the subject, and interested in everything that affected her brother, listened and put in a word as often as maternal preoccupations allowed. “Why, Pivart’s a new name hereabout, brother, isn’t it?” she said; “he didn’t own the land in father’s time, nor yours either, before I was married.” “New name? Yes, I should think it _is_ a new name,” said Mr Tulliver, with angry emphasis. “Dorlcote Mill’s been in our family a hundred year and better, and nobody ever heard of a Pivart meddling with the river, till this fellow came and bought Bincome’s farm out of hand, before anybody else could so much as say ‘snap.’ But I’ll _Pivart_ him!” added Mr Tulliver, lifting his glass with a sense that he had defined his resolution in an unmistakable manner. “You won’t be forced to go to law with him, I hope, brother?” said Mrs Moss, with some anxiety. “I don’t know what I shall be forced to; but I know what I shall force _him_ to, with his dikes and erigations, if there’s any law to be brought to bear o’ the right side. I know well enough who’s at the bottom of it; he’s got Wakem to back him and egg him on. I know Wakem tells him the law can’t touch him for it, but there’s folks can handle the law besides Wakem. It takes a big raskil to beat him; but there’s bigger to be found, as know more o’ th’ ins and outs o’ the law, else how came Wakem to lose Brumley’s suit for him?”