The Jesuits - James Aitken Wylie

At last we came to a side-door in the narrow
passage. We halted, applied the key, and the door,
with its ancient mould, creaking harshly as if
moving on a hinge long disused, opened to let us
in. We found ourselves in a rather roomy chamber,
it might be about twelve feet square. This was the
Chamber of Question. Along one side of the
apartment ran a low platform. There sat of old the
inquisitors, three in number--the first a divine, the
second a casuist, and the third a civilian. The only
occupant of that platform was the crucifix, or
image of the Savior on the cross, which still
remained. The six candles that usually burned
before the "holy Fathers" were, of course,
extinguished, but our lantern supplied their place,
and showed us the grim furnishings of the
apartment. In the middle was the horizontal rack or
bed of torture, on which the victim was stretched
till bone started from bone, and his dislocated
frame became the seat of agony, which was
suspended only when it had reached a pitch that
threatened death.
192