the autumn
noon
Had he not been so hungry , and so unable to get the idea of the stewpot out of his head , Michael would have been content to sit with his back to the sun-warmed wall for ever . The high-road , raised and embanked above the low-lying fields , ran eastwards in an undeviating straight line . Just opposite the farm were the last outlying huts of the village , and from there onwards it lay untenanted . But before many minutes were passed , the quiet of the autumn noon began to be overscored by distant humming , faint at first , and then quickly growing louder , and he saw far away a little brown speck coming swiftly towards him . It turned out to be a dispatch-rider , mounted on a motor-bicycle , who with a hoot of his horn roared westward through the village . Immediately afterwards another humming , steadier and more sonorous , grew louder , and Michael , recognising it , looked up instinctively into the blue sky overhead , as an English aeroplane , flying low , came from somewhere behind , and passed directly over him , going eastwards . Before long it stopped its direct course , and began to mount in spirals , and when at a sufficient height , it resumed its onward journey towards the German lines .