and then a flash of colour so wonderful that Neville could not bear to
look. He closed his eyes, and, as he did so, he felt that the Cloud
Horse had come to a halt at last.

So Neville sat upon the cloud, not daring to open his eyes for quite a
long time. When at last he did look again he almost fainted with the
wonder of it. He was inside the sunset.

But scarcely had he begun to enjoy the wonderful sight, when he was
startled by the sound of a funny, shrill little voice close by his
side. Looking down, he saw a strange little man, no taller than a
walking-stick, and dressed from top to toe in golden-yellow clothes.
"My stars!" said the wee yellow man. "How did YOU manage to get in
here? Don't you know this is private?"

"I'm very sorry," said Neville, "but I couldn't help it. The Cloud
Horse brought me, you know."

"Ah!" said the wee yellow man. "He tricked you, did he? He's much too
playful, that Cloud Horse; and, I must say, he's put you in a pretty
fix."

"Excuse me," said Neville, "but do you mind telling me who you are?"

"I?" cried the little yellow man. "Why, I'm the Last Sunbeam, of
course. I thought you knew that. My job, you know, is to shut up the
show when the sunset is over. And it's pretty hard work, I can tell
you, because I've got to keep on doing it all round the earth every
few minutes or so. And it gets very tiresome at times. Would you
believe it? I've never seen a dawn or a bright mid-day in all my