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Updated: June 15, 2025
When Maximilian received notice that Napoleon III. was about to desert him and his cause, he was absolutely discouraged, and would have resigned at once and returned to Europe; but his courageous wife dissuaded him. She started the very next day for Vera Cruz, on her way to induce the French emperor to keep his word and hold sacred the treaty of Miramar.
Lane, as many as eleven hundred packages of private furniture to be transferred to Miramar, Maximilian's home; and Lieutenant Clarin, of the French navy, who visited the Susquehanna from the French commodore, Clouet, told me, without reserve, that, if we had delayed eight days more, we would have found Maximilian gone.
"He was here two years ago when Señor De Gex had some big financial deal with the Count Chamartin, who was head of the Miramar Shipping Company of Barcelona. They say he bought the whole fleet of steamers from Count Chamartin." "Was Count Chamartin wealthy?" "Yes. A millionaire, without a doubt. But it is said that shortly before his death he quarrelled with his wife. Why, nobody knows.
In a second line, farther from the shore, and speculating on the appetite that salt air awakens in dyspeptics, came the more pretentious and the more permanent structures of the restaurants and eating-places, with stairways and verandas, façades of ornate but inexpensive stucco, masking the frailty of such pomp under ostentatious names: The Paris Hotel and Restaurant, The Miramar, The Fonda del Buen Gusto; and between these pedants of summer-time gastronomy, the lunch-rooms of the natives, huts with roofs of matting, rickety tables with wine jugs in the center, and outdoor kitchens, dispensing shell-fish with vinegar dressing from Saint John's day till mid-September, under signs of delightfully capricious spelling: Salvaor and Neleta, wines, bears and likers.
So immersed did he become that his nascent interest in Paula might have languished, had it not been for meeting her each evening at dinner. Then, too, until Ernestine and Lute left for Santa Barbara, there were afternoon swims and rides and motor trips to the pastures of the Miramar Hills and the upland ranges of the Anselmo Mountains.
The witness admits it. We admit it. It wa'n't necessary. No tracks led to that bank. The snow wa'n't broke." "There was a man on the other bank just the same," Smoke insisted. "That's too thin for skatin', young man. There ain't many of us on the McQuestion, an' we got every man accounted for." "Who was the man you hiked out of camp two weeks ago?" Smoke asked. "Alonzo Miramar. He was a Mexican.
As he caught Graciosa's eye he raised his sombrero, then rode through the open door of a neighbouring saloon and tossed off an American drink without dismounting from his horse. Eulogia lifted her shoulders. "I like his saddle and his horse, but he is too small. Still, a new man is not disagreeable. When shall I meet him?" "To-night, my Eulogia. He goes with us to Miramar."
"And by the way," Dick's voice went on, "you've been over the reports on the Big Miramar?... Very good. Discount them. I disagree with them flatly. The water is there. I haven't a doubt we'll find a fairly shallow artesian supply. Send up the boring outfit at once and start prospecting. The soil's ungodly rich, and if we don't make that dry hole ten times as valuable in the next five years ..."
In the study on the ground floor hangs a photograph, still sharp and clear after the lapse of half a century, of the members of the delegation swarthy men in the high cravats and long frock-coats of the period, some of them wearing the stars and sashes of orders who came to Miramar to offer Maximilian the Mexican crown.
She says: "It was an awful trial not to make an exhibition of myself, and I was glad when the train steamed out; but for a whole hour, ascending the beautiful road close to the sea and Miramar and Trieste, I never took my misty eyes off Trieste and our home where I had been so happy for eighteen years."
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