rule over my fields."

The astonished heralds knew not what to make of this. To them the man who
would not be king must be a saint--or an idiot. They reasoned, begged,
implored, until Wamba, anxious to get rid of them, said,--

"I will accept the crown when the dry rod in my hand grows green
again,--and not till then."

The good old husbandman fancied that he had fairly settled the question,
but miracle defeated his purpose. To his utter surprise and their deep
astonishment the dry stick which he thrust into the ground at once became
a green plant, fresh leaves breaking out on its upper end. What was the
old man fond of his plough to do in such a case? He had appealed to
Heaven, and here was Heaven's reply. He went with the heralds to the
electoral congress, but there, in spite of the green branch, he again
refused to be king. He knew what it meant to try and govern men like those
around him, and preferred not to undertake the task. But one of the chiefs
sprang up, drew his sword, and advanced to the old man.

"If you are still obstinate in refusing the position we offer you," he
sternly said, "you shall lose your head as well as your crown."

His fierce eyes and brandished sword gave weight to his words, and Wamba,
concluding that he would rather be a king than a corpse, accepted the
trust. He was then escorted by the council and the army to Toledo, feeling
more like a captive than a monarch. There he was anointed and crowned,
and, from being lord of his fields, the wise old husbandman became king of
Spain.

Such a king as Wamba proved to be the Goths had never known. Age had
brought him wisdom, but it had not robbed him of energy. He knew what he
had to expect and showed himself master of the situation. Revolts broke
out, conspiracies threatened the throne, but one after another he put them
down. Yet he was as merciful as he was prompt. His enemies were set free
and bidden to behave themselves better in the future. One ambitious noble
named Paul, who thought it would be an easy thing to take the throne from
an old man who had shown so plainly that he did not want it, rose in
rebellion. He soon learned his mistake. Wamba met him in battle, routed
his army, and took him prisoner. Paul expected nothing less than to have
his head stricken off, but Wamba simply ordered that it should be shaved.

To shave the crown of the head in those days was no trifling matter. It
formed what is known as the tonsure, then the mark