"There is another message.

One has come from the Bredestreet with word of your lady daughter.

An hour ago she has borne a child...A lusty son, madam." The reply from the bed was laughter.
It began low and hoarse like a fit of coughing, and rose to the high cackling mirth of extreme age.

At the sound both Anton and the monk took to praying.

Presently it stopped, and her voice came full and strong as it had been of old.
"Mea culpa," it said, "mea maxima culpa.