At the moment of Prince Charles’s entry into Ismaïl, and in the midst of the fire and pillage and the fearful carnage, he saw a child three or four years old standing alone under the doorway of a fine-looking house, and uttering the most heartrending cries; his beauty and the richness of his attire attracted the attention of the Prince; he took up the child in his arms; it ceased crying, and looked at him with eyes full of astonishment; then, terrified at the tumult and the horrible scenes going on around them, he hid his face on his deliverer’s breast, clinging to his neck with all the strength of his little arms. Much moved, the Prince hastily carried the child to a place of safety, and had it questioned by some prisoners who had escaped the massacre. All he could say was that he was called Norokos, and that his mother and the women who took care of him had been killed. The Prince chose among the prisoners a Turkish man and woman, gave the child into their keeping, and commanded that he should receive every possible care, as he had decided to adopt him, and take him to Vienna on his return. Immediately after the taking of Ismaïl the Empress Catherine wrote to Prince Charles to tell him herself of his promotion to the rank of colonel, and to confer on him the cross of commander of the order of Saint Georges. The Prince de Ligne was at Vienna when he received the news of the capture of Ismaïl, and of the honours the Empress had bestowed on his son. He had just been slighted and treated with flagrant injustice by Leopold II., but he forgot everything on hearing of his Charles’s success, and wrote the same day to the Czarina:-- “MADAME--My heart, which bounds forward so quickly that my pen is unable to keep pace with it, can never sufficiently express my gratitude for the favours bestowed by your Imperial Majesty on my excellent and fortunate Charles. I shall not publish the letter you have deigned to write to me, but shall content myself with never forgetting it. Not until we have peace will your Majesty regain your former wit, as during the last four years you have been all soul and genius. Good heavens, what abundant proof of it there is in your letter to my good Charles! I am afraid it will have put him quite beside himself....” But it is with his son that the Prince gives himself up to the full vehemence of his feelings. VIENNA, _25th November 1790_.