James Grant, The Secret Dispatch; or, The Adventures of Captain Balgonie
“ I have heard that they are not bearded like men. I shall never see one, it is forbidden; yet—yet—as I often tell Father Chrysostom, I have dreams by day—dreams of something else than wild swans and bearded Cossacks—of something to cling to, some one to love and be loved by. It must be this kind of love you speak of—oh yes, it must!" said Ivan, as he gazed with stupid, but reverent wonder at the lock of hair, ere he returned it to Balgonie. "Poor young Prince!" exclaimed the latter, as the chaplain hurried him away, and the portcullis clanged behind them in its grooves of stone. ”
