face.
Florence's plate somersaulted, scattering salad over the table. She reached out to grab it, then jolted back as the plate went flying across the table. Barrett jerked his head aside. The plate scaled past his ear and landed on its edge, rolling rapidly across the floor, to break against the wall. Edith cried out as a heavy serving dish began to slide across the table toward him. Barrett jumped up, toppling his chair. He almost fell, then leaned against the table. The serving dish slid off the table edge and crashed to the floor. Mashed potatoes splattered over his shoes and trouser cuffs.
Fischer was on his feet now. He tried to turn from the table, but was slammed against it as his chair lurched hard against his legs. He saw his cup go leaping from the table, gouting coffee over Barrett's shirt front as it struck him in the middle of the chest. Edith's scream choked off as Fischer's plate was catapulted from the tabletop, flying closely over her head. The chair slid back from Fischer, and he crumpled to his knees, his face a mask of shock.
Barrett tried to twist the handkerchief around his bleeding thumb. The silver pot fell over and began to spin across the table at him, spouting coffee. Barrett lurched aside to avoid it, slipped on the potatoes, flailed for balance, then went crashing onto his right side. The coffeepot fell off the table, bouncing off his left calf. He cried out at the burning impact. Edith tried to stand to help him, but her chair rocked backward, throwing her off balance. A knife and spoon went flying past her cheek.
Florence shrank into her chair as another serving dish began to skid across the table, headed for Barrett. Barrett scrabbled aside with a gasp. The serving dish crashed down beside him, the edge of its cover striking his shin. Edith struggled to her feet. "Under the table!" Fischer cried. Florence slid from the chair, falling to her knees. Fischer flung himself beneath the table. Overhead, the hanging lamp began to pendulum, the length of its swings increasing rapidly.
They were barely in the shelter of the table when the objects on the monastery table against the east wall came to life. A heavy silver chafing dish arced across the room and hit their table with a deafening impact. Edith cried out. Barrett started reaching for her automatically, then went back to wrapping his thumb. A silver bowl came hurtling at them, struck a table leg, and spun around in a blur of movement. Florence glanced at Fischer. He was on his knees, eyes staring, face a frozen mask of dread. She wanted to help him but felt too dazed. There was a churning coldness in her stomach.
All of them looked up in shock as the dining table started rocking back and forth. The silver creamer landed nearby, contents splattering across the floor like a gout of ivory paint. The silver sugar bowl fell beside it as the table rocked with mounting violence, legs crashing down like pounding horse hooves. The table shifted suddenly, and Barrett had to jerk his hand away to keep from getting it crushed. The chairs began to overturn, banging one by one against the floor, the noise like rifle shots.
Suddenly the table surged away from them, sliding fast across the polished floor. It smashed against the fire screen and bent it out of shape. Above them, all the sanctuary lamps were swinging violently. One of them tore loose and hurtled sideways, creating a shower of sparks as it collided violently with the stone mantel, then crashed to the tabletop. A silver candelabrum flew across the room and landed on the floor by Barrett, thudding against his side. He fell with a gasp of pain. Florence cried out. " No! "
All movement ceased abruptly, except for the decreasing arcs of the remaining sanctuary lamps. Edith bent over Barrett anxiously. "Lionel?" She touched his shoulder. He managed to nod.
"Ben, you've got to leave this house."
Fischer turned to Florence, startled by her words.
"You aren't up to it," she told him.
" What the
Florence's plate somersaulted, scattering salad over the table. She reached out to grab it, then jolted back as the plate went flying across the table. Barrett jerked his head aside. The plate scaled past his ear and landed on its edge, rolling rapidly across the floor, to break against the wall. Edith cried out as a heavy serving dish began to slide across the table toward him. Barrett jumped up, toppling his chair. He almost fell, then leaned against the table. The serving dish slid off the table edge and crashed to the floor. Mashed potatoes splattered over his shoes and trouser cuffs.
Fischer was on his feet now. He tried to turn from the table, but was slammed against it as his chair lurched hard against his legs. He saw his cup go leaping from the table, gouting coffee over Barrett's shirt front as it struck him in the middle of the chest. Edith's scream choked off as Fischer's plate was catapulted from the tabletop, flying closely over her head. The chair slid back from Fischer, and he crumpled to his knees, his face a mask of shock.
Barrett tried to twist the handkerchief around his bleeding thumb. The silver pot fell over and began to spin across the table at him, spouting coffee. Barrett lurched aside to avoid it, slipped on the potatoes, flailed for balance, then went crashing onto his right side. The coffeepot fell off the table, bouncing off his left calf. He cried out at the burning impact. Edith tried to stand to help him, but her chair rocked backward, throwing her off balance. A knife and spoon went flying past her cheek.
Florence shrank into her chair as another serving dish began to skid across the table, headed for Barrett. Barrett scrabbled aside with a gasp. The serving dish crashed down beside him, the edge of its cover striking his shin. Edith struggled to her feet. "Under the table!" Fischer cried. Florence slid from the chair, falling to her knees. Fischer flung himself beneath the table. Overhead, the hanging lamp began to pendulum, the length of its swings increasing rapidly.
They were barely in the shelter of the table when the objects on the monastery table against the east wall came to life. A heavy silver chafing dish arced across the room and hit their table with a deafening impact. Edith cried out. Barrett started reaching for her automatically, then went back to wrapping his thumb. A silver bowl came hurtling at them, struck a table leg, and spun around in a blur of movement. Florence glanced at Fischer. He was on his knees, eyes staring, face a frozen mask of dread. She wanted to help him but felt too dazed. There was a churning coldness in her stomach.
All of them looked up in shock as the dining table started rocking back and forth. The silver creamer landed nearby, contents splattering across the floor like a gout of ivory paint. The silver sugar bowl fell beside it as the table rocked with mounting violence, legs crashing down like pounding horse hooves. The table shifted suddenly, and Barrett had to jerk his hand away to keep from getting it crushed. The chairs began to overturn, banging one by one against the floor, the noise like rifle shots.
Suddenly the table surged away from them, sliding fast across the polished floor. It smashed against the fire screen and bent it out of shape. Above them, all the sanctuary lamps were swinging violently. One of them tore loose and hurtled sideways, creating a shower of sparks as it collided violently with the stone mantel, then crashed to the tabletop. A silver candelabrum flew across the room and landed on the floor by Barrett, thudding against his side. He fell with a gasp of pain. Florence cried out. " No! "
All movement ceased abruptly, except for the decreasing arcs of the remaining sanctuary lamps. Edith bent over Barrett anxiously. "Lionel?" She touched his shoulder. He managed to nod.
"Ben, you've got to leave this house."
Fischer turned to Florence, startled by her words.
"You aren't up to it," she told him.
" What the
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